Ah. It feels so nice to have rejoined the online world. We had internet installed today, and J and I are such happy campers. The net junkies inside us have been starving to death.
We moved up to Bellingham this past Sunday, and I am happy to be settling into our new home. Introducing: The Little Grey House (LGH). I seem to have an affinity for so-small-they're=cute-in-a-doll-house-sort=of-way homes. It really is so very cozy and comfortable though.
So -- recap of the past month, details to be filled in as needed:
November 11: our wedding day, followed by our weeklong honeymoon in Whistler.
The following week: Thanksgiving, with gads of my family up from California and Nevada.
The following Monday: Justin had hernia surgery. This was oodles of fun. I was able to experience the unique intimacy that is cleaning up your husband's puke for the first time. Nothing says "I love you" quite like it.
The following weekend: we ventured up to Bellingham to search for a place to live. I fell in love with this little place online as we were searching Craigslist, and when we saw it in person, we knew this was the place. God really provided for us.
This past Sunday: we moved!
Phew.
So -- the wedding. Well, I'll start with the pre-event events.
The few days leading up to it were more interesting than I needed or wished, but that's the way things go. When I got a flat tire at 1 a.m. two nights before the wedding day (picking up Justin and Co. from the big Bachelor Party at Gameworks, an arcade in Seattle), I thought that we'd checked off the "weird inconvenient event" requirement that seems to need to be satisfied before any major event. Unfortunately, I was wrong.
Got a call at 5 a.m. Friday morning (wedding: Saturday) telling us that someone had set fire to the house my brother shares with five roommates in the University District. Some asshole thought it would be a real hoot to set the couch on their porch on fire, in addition to setting three or four more fires in the neighborhood. Everyone got out okay, but things could have been much worse had someone not been sleeping in the front room. My brother lives with twins, Josh and Jeremy, who lived in the same neighborhood as us ever since we were small kids. Their older sister Chelsie crashed out front and woke up because of the smoke and alerted everyone. The house was a total loss -- see more pics (and my brother's fifteen seconds of fame on the news) at ourroofisonfire.blogspot.com.
Yeah, no kidding. We are so glad everyone was okay. My brother arrived in plenty of time to make the wedding, and even though his tux was smokey, I only teased him once or twice. The boys are all moved in to a new house together and are trying to adjust to everything they lost. (The day after the fire, people broke into the house and stole what hadn't burned in the fire. Yeah. No kidding). Others have been extremely generous with their donations though, and the boys have seen a lot of kindness and blessings out of this horrible mess.
Okay, this post is long enough and we are in danger of losing power because of this crazy windstorm we're supposed to be getting in the next few hours. I hope to share a few stories from the wedding soon. Be well and blessed, all.
--sl
Oh, and Jennie -- the laughing picture from the wedding is right after Dan, our dear friend and pastor, shushed Justin. Dan was speaking about something (it could have been my attempt to embrace football and the Seahawks) and J piped in with a quick comment. Dan said something to the effect of "Excuse me, young man, but it's my turn to talk right now." Thus the pout lip and my laughter. It was a brilliant moment, one among many favorites. :)
jueves, 14 de diciembre de 2006
miércoles, 15 de noviembre de 2006
we got hitched!
I'm Mrs. Lawlis!
We got married on Saturday November 11th, and it was so much fun. We're now up in Whistler, B.C. and enjoying the snow and our little condo for the week. My husband is the best.
Photos and full update to come once I'm not out of minutes at the internet cafe!
Be well and blessed. :)
We got married on Saturday November 11th, and it was so much fun. We're now up in Whistler, B.C. and enjoying the snow and our little condo for the week. My husband is the best.
Photos and full update to come once I'm not out of minutes at the internet cafe!
Be well and blessed. :)
domingo, 1 de octubre de 2006
sábado, 30 de septiembre de 2006
sábado, 2 de septiembre de 2006
a life upgraded
So Justin is over in Seattle tonight, hanging out with all the dudes for their annual Fantasy Football draft. I don't really know exactly how it all works, but he's all excited (you've never seen guys talk on the phone so much), and... well, I'm learning to be. It's all become this huge joke really. I get a star everytime I demonstrate I know something -- anything -- about football. I recognize Hasselbeck? Star. Point out Shawn Alexander? Star. Oh yeah, that's coach Mike Holmgren. Yep. That's right. Star. I go see Invincible with him? Double star. (Was actually a pretty good flick).
I used to be (okay, still am) the consummate fairweather fan. If the Seahawks were kicking some major butt like they were last season, I'd catch the last several games. If not, I'd probably use the Superbowl as an annual excuse to eat way too much in front of the TV.
This season... will be a little different.
It occurs to me that a few things in my life are changing.
I'm pretty sure tonight is the first or second evening we've spent apart since he moved over here in late June. I mean, we've hung out with friends, enjoyed the company of others, but always -- together. And this is the way we like it -- it's hard enough just to say goodbye and have him drive the 15 minutes back to his place around midnight. We simply like being together as much as possible.
Still, this is a huge divergence from the quiet nights on my own here in the LBH. It's been an adjustment, not a difficult one by any means, but it's a big shift. I'm not ashamed to admit that I was truly excited for him to go and hang out with just the guys... because it also meant that I'd have a bit of time to hang out with just myself. I think that's okay to say. I think it's also okay to say that it wasn't long after I'd dropped him off at the ferry that I missed him and started looking forward to him being back home again. Fifteen minutes, perhaps?
There are the briefest of moments when I remember my quiet nights alone at the LBH with the tiniest of longings. It usually has to do with missing some of the things I used to do when I was on my own, things that have been on a bit of a hiatus for the time being. I read more. I played my guitar more. I definitely wrote more often. I was more contemplative. I was more of that artsy ideal I've always fancied.
I also went to the gym more. It causes me no small amount of grief that 6'5" not-fat-in-the-first-place Justin lost ten pounds since he's been here, and I've gained ten.
But as I sit here and think about my life... I may read less, but when I read now, I have someone beside me... someone whose own reading I interrupt at regular intervals to read any particularly brilliant passage that's resonating with me. (And he listens). We'll go to Barnes & Noble and wander for a while, finally settling down in the cafe for some mochas, quietly reading but enjoying one another's presence (and always finding some way to be touching). Or, we go down to the rock-and-oyster-strewn beach by my house, sit down on the worn wooden steps, and read Buechner out loud to each other as the sun sinks out of sight behind the Olympics.
(Justin read Anne Lamott's Traveling Mercies this past week, and our conversation has been peppered with her words and perspectives all week. She is my favorite author next to Buechner, and to have someone to savor these words with me is heaven).
I finished a book this afternoon, and I felt a real sense of accomplishment at having done so because I haven't succeeded at getting more than a third of a book read in months, but would I trade all this companionship, this comraderie, for more opportunities to read the last page? No way.
I played my guitar more, but there was no one there to listen with a huge proud grin on his face. No one to tell me that I really need to keep chasing that little dream in there.
I wrote more, I was a bit more contemplative, sure. But what did I write about often? What was on my mind and heart? Well, lots of things, actually. But there were many times I wrote about heartbreak or of feeling lonely, wrote of wanting someone to do life with. And although there are times I miss this outlet and am looking forward to things settling down at some point so I can type my jumbled thoughts out a little more often, I wouldn't go back. Not in a million years. I kind of like the way I get to share my jumbled thoughts with Justin out loud, face-to-face. He's a great sounding board, and always in my corner. He's my rock. Rather than tearing up every now and then on my own or as I'm typing or as I'm laying my head down on my pillow, I bury my tears in a warm chest and strong arms. I find peace in the knowledge that no matter what -- no matter how weak or frustrated or tired I feel -- someone in this world is for me. Grace abounds.
Yeah, yeah, I was ten pounds skinnier before. But I have someone now who -- literally -- tells me everyday that I am beautiful, that I am treasured, that I am being pursued, that I am loved. And that he doesn't care if I'm ten pounds different because he didn't notice anyway.
You know, I almost believe him. (And I am glad I bought my wedding dress a little big).
In three weeks I'll be saying goodbye to the Little Blue House and to this 500 square feet of the world I called mine for a while. Mine is, degree by degree, from the DVD collection to the laundry piles to the grocery trips, becoming ours. Soon. There'll be this truly interesting few months of my crashing at my folks' place to save cash. There'll be a far more interesting period of about two weeks following the honeymoon where we'll be crashing in the room next to Grandma. (Oh dear God). And then... finally... Justin and I will be settling into our home. Settling into our new life. Our grand adventure.
I won't be looking back.
I used to be (okay, still am) the consummate fairweather fan. If the Seahawks were kicking some major butt like they were last season, I'd catch the last several games. If not, I'd probably use the Superbowl as an annual excuse to eat way too much in front of the TV.
This season... will be a little different.
It occurs to me that a few things in my life are changing.
I'm pretty sure tonight is the first or second evening we've spent apart since he moved over here in late June. I mean, we've hung out with friends, enjoyed the company of others, but always -- together. And this is the way we like it -- it's hard enough just to say goodbye and have him drive the 15 minutes back to his place around midnight. We simply like being together as much as possible.
Still, this is a huge divergence from the quiet nights on my own here in the LBH. It's been an adjustment, not a difficult one by any means, but it's a big shift. I'm not ashamed to admit that I was truly excited for him to go and hang out with just the guys... because it also meant that I'd have a bit of time to hang out with just myself. I think that's okay to say. I think it's also okay to say that it wasn't long after I'd dropped him off at the ferry that I missed him and started looking forward to him being back home again. Fifteen minutes, perhaps?
There are the briefest of moments when I remember my quiet nights alone at the LBH with the tiniest of longings. It usually has to do with missing some of the things I used to do when I was on my own, things that have been on a bit of a hiatus for the time being. I read more. I played my guitar more. I definitely wrote more often. I was more contemplative. I was more of that artsy ideal I've always fancied.
I also went to the gym more. It causes me no small amount of grief that 6'5" not-fat-in-the-first-place Justin lost ten pounds since he's been here, and I've gained ten.
But as I sit here and think about my life... I may read less, but when I read now, I have someone beside me... someone whose own reading I interrupt at regular intervals to read any particularly brilliant passage that's resonating with me. (And he listens). We'll go to Barnes & Noble and wander for a while, finally settling down in the cafe for some mochas, quietly reading but enjoying one another's presence (and always finding some way to be touching). Or, we go down to the rock-and-oyster-strewn beach by my house, sit down on the worn wooden steps, and read Buechner out loud to each other as the sun sinks out of sight behind the Olympics.
(Justin read Anne Lamott's Traveling Mercies this past week, and our conversation has been peppered with her words and perspectives all week. She is my favorite author next to Buechner, and to have someone to savor these words with me is heaven).
I finished a book this afternoon, and I felt a real sense of accomplishment at having done so because I haven't succeeded at getting more than a third of a book read in months, but would I trade all this companionship, this comraderie, for more opportunities to read the last page? No way.
I played my guitar more, but there was no one there to listen with a huge proud grin on his face. No one to tell me that I really need to keep chasing that little dream in there.
I wrote more, I was a bit more contemplative, sure. But what did I write about often? What was on my mind and heart? Well, lots of things, actually. But there were many times I wrote about heartbreak or of feeling lonely, wrote of wanting someone to do life with. And although there are times I miss this outlet and am looking forward to things settling down at some point so I can type my jumbled thoughts out a little more often, I wouldn't go back. Not in a million years. I kind of like the way I get to share my jumbled thoughts with Justin out loud, face-to-face. He's a great sounding board, and always in my corner. He's my rock. Rather than tearing up every now and then on my own or as I'm typing or as I'm laying my head down on my pillow, I bury my tears in a warm chest and strong arms. I find peace in the knowledge that no matter what -- no matter how weak or frustrated or tired I feel -- someone in this world is for me. Grace abounds.
Yeah, yeah, I was ten pounds skinnier before. But I have someone now who -- literally -- tells me everyday that I am beautiful, that I am treasured, that I am being pursued, that I am loved. And that he doesn't care if I'm ten pounds different because he didn't notice anyway.
You know, I almost believe him. (And I am glad I bought my wedding dress a little big).
In three weeks I'll be saying goodbye to the Little Blue House and to this 500 square feet of the world I called mine for a while. Mine is, degree by degree, from the DVD collection to the laundry piles to the grocery trips, becoming ours. Soon. There'll be this truly interesting few months of my crashing at my folks' place to save cash. There'll be a far more interesting period of about two weeks following the honeymoon where we'll be crashing in the room next to Grandma. (Oh dear God). And then... finally... Justin and I will be settling into our home. Settling into our new life. Our grand adventure.
I won't be looking back.
viernes, 25 de agosto de 2006
notes from all over
hello, all.
I am home today!! Thank goodness. Our busy season at work is in full swing and Wednesday and Thursday were both thirteen-hour days. Some people are workhorses and thrive on long hours, hectic schedules. They get this sick energy adrenaline rush and just go, go, go.
I am definitely not one of them. This crap wears me out.
I will be glad when this season is over -- I hate the feeling that I'm cheating my family in favor of my job. Justin's really great about it, I mean, he shows up at the office with teriyaki and does Sudoku or reads next to me in my cube while I'm feverishly working on my projects, but it's not exactly quality time.
Enough of that. I'm off work today, Julie is in town, and it's going to be a really fun weekend. We girls will hang out today, and J will join us after work. I'm excited for these two to meet. I mean, they remember each other vaguely from back when we were in high school, but circumstances have changed somewhat. :) Pretty sure Kevo is driving over tonight as well, so we'll probably run down to Safeway and grab some China Express and rent a movie. That, or J and I will introduce them to the glory that is the game of Munchkin.
Has anyone ever heard of this game? I never had, and I was skeptical at first... but I just have to say, it's the bomb-diggity. I'd be curious to see if anyone else has ever played it.
Okay. Those are my deep thoughts for today.
I am pretty confident that I'm going to be the worst blogger ever for a while. My to-read and to-write lists are kind of on hold right now, with things being so busy. Although there is much to look forward to in the next three months, I really look forward to the first full day Justin and I will have, post-wedding, post-honeymoon, post-moving-into-our-house. I look forward to the moment when I think to myself, "What was I supposed to do today? Oh, that's right. Jack-squat." I think we're both looking foward to things quieting down somewhat.
Then, just maybe, I'll have something of value to offer. In the meantime, my apologies to you and cyberspace.
It's not you, it's me.
I am home today!! Thank goodness. Our busy season at work is in full swing and Wednesday and Thursday were both thirteen-hour days. Some people are workhorses and thrive on long hours, hectic schedules. They get this sick energy adrenaline rush and just go, go, go.
I am definitely not one of them. This crap wears me out.
I will be glad when this season is over -- I hate the feeling that I'm cheating my family in favor of my job. Justin's really great about it, I mean, he shows up at the office with teriyaki and does Sudoku or reads next to me in my cube while I'm feverishly working on my projects, but it's not exactly quality time.
Enough of that. I'm off work today, Julie is in town, and it's going to be a really fun weekend. We girls will hang out today, and J will join us after work. I'm excited for these two to meet. I mean, they remember each other vaguely from back when we were in high school, but circumstances have changed somewhat. :) Pretty sure Kevo is driving over tonight as well, so we'll probably run down to Safeway and grab some China Express and rent a movie. That, or J and I will introduce them to the glory that is the game of Munchkin.
Has anyone ever heard of this game? I never had, and I was skeptical at first... but I just have to say, it's the bomb-diggity. I'd be curious to see if anyone else has ever played it.
Okay. Those are my deep thoughts for today.
I am pretty confident that I'm going to be the worst blogger ever for a while. My to-read and to-write lists are kind of on hold right now, with things being so busy. Although there is much to look forward to in the next three months, I really look forward to the first full day Justin and I will have, post-wedding, post-honeymoon, post-moving-into-our-house. I look forward to the moment when I think to myself, "What was I supposed to do today? Oh, that's right. Jack-squat." I think we're both looking foward to things quieting down somewhat.
Then, just maybe, I'll have something of value to offer. In the meantime, my apologies to you and cyberspace.
It's not you, it's me.
martes, 15 de agosto de 2006
no bridezillas allowed
So we're 88 days out (not that anyone is counting) and full-scale into preparations for the big day. I'm so pumped. The thought of being Justin's wife makes me grin ear to ear, and it's ridiculous, but I'll happily endure it. I keep on thinking that I couldn't be more sure about this, and then we go through a moment when he encourages me, or shows me grace when I'm stressed out, or simply makes me laugh til I have tears coming out of my eyes -- and amazingly, I'm even more convinced that this is everything I wanted and then some. I seriously didn't know it could be like this. I am fully myself, and fully loved.
I'm excited for the festivities, excited to make my vows to J (VERY excited for our honeymoon in Whistler!), but still -- a question looms large in the back of my head: "Does it really have to be this damn complicated?" Does the big day really have to be so big and daunting?
So... I'm kind of committed to running every detail of the wedding past these two questions as I'm making decisions.
1. Will anyone remember this the next day?
2. Will I remember this the next day? Or even care the next day?
If the answer to one or both of the above questions is "No" or "Doubtful"... then I've pretty much decided to not really give a rip (i.e. not stress about it and definitely not spend much moolah on it).
There are a few details I care about -- the dress, of course (which I got a KILLER deal on)... who my bridesmaids are, what music we'll use (not the Bridal Chorus or Canon in D, that's for sure)... that kind of stuff. But the rest... dude. A girl could make herself insane if she cared passionately about every single little detail. (Not to mention her poor groom).
Craigslist, craigslist, craigslist. Delegate, delegate, delegate.
I wish I could tell you that I've never gotten overwhelmed. I'd be a big fat liar. But I am committed to letting the focus remain where it needs to be: being a wife rather than on being the bride. The marriage, not the wedding. That's what matters, and throwing your party for any reason other than this is foolishness.
Less than three months. Day by day, we'll get there. Can't wait.
I'm excited for the festivities, excited to make my vows to J (VERY excited for our honeymoon in Whistler!), but still -- a question looms large in the back of my head: "Does it really have to be this damn complicated?" Does the big day really have to be so big and daunting?
So... I'm kind of committed to running every detail of the wedding past these two questions as I'm making decisions.
1. Will anyone remember this the next day?
2. Will I remember this the next day? Or even care the next day?
If the answer to one or both of the above questions is "No" or "Doubtful"... then I've pretty much decided to not really give a rip (i.e. not stress about it and definitely not spend much moolah on it).
There are a few details I care about -- the dress, of course (which I got a KILLER deal on)... who my bridesmaids are, what music we'll use (not the Bridal Chorus or Canon in D, that's for sure)... that kind of stuff. But the rest... dude. A girl could make herself insane if she cared passionately about every single little detail. (Not to mention her poor groom).
Craigslist, craigslist, craigslist. Delegate, delegate, delegate.
I wish I could tell you that I've never gotten overwhelmed. I'd be a big fat liar. But I am committed to letting the focus remain where it needs to be: being a wife rather than on being the bride. The marriage, not the wedding. That's what matters, and throwing your party for any reason other than this is foolishness.
Less than three months. Day by day, we'll get there. Can't wait.
jueves, 27 de julio de 2006
the man we call "the vault"
So, here's how it all went down (Julie and I were able to talk last night, so I'm able to share freely now).
The girls and I all crashed at Grace's on Friday night. We met there around seven, so Justin and I made dinner together before I headed out. As we're leaving, he tells me: "Don't hurry back or anything. I'll probably uh, sleep in, and afterward, I'll get some chores done before heading out to your place."
I turned away, biting my lip to avoid laughing. He doesn't sleep in. And I doubted he'd be worried about chores first thing on a Saturday morning. Beyond this, he's just not a very talented liar. This honesty is a plus in most situations, a curse for him in this particular scenario.
I went to Grace's. Kevin had come over from Seattle to hang out with the fam for the weekend, so after I left Grace's the next morning, I headed to my parent's place. We're sitting there at the kitchen table drinking coffee and laughing as usual, when there's a knock at the door.
"That'd be Justin," I say, thinking that he'd stopped by the Little Blue House a quarter mile away and guessed where I'd be.
This is the moment where I was a little slow on the uptake. Poor Justin had stopped by to ask my dad for his permission and blessing to marry me. He was unfortunate on two counts. One, my brother and I were there. Two, my dad was working the weekend.
He played it off well.
Kevo and I and Justin went to the LBH and watched a triple feature (the temps were in the 95-degree range and Washington homes don't have A/C for the most part, so we were incapable of actual activity). We later reappeared at my folks' house for a barbecue.
My mom, grandma and I were in the kitchen prepping some of the food. Justin, boasting of his grilling skills, went out on the deck with my dad.
So Justin asked my dad for his blessing, to which my dad's highly verbal response was, "Yeah, sure! No problem."
Justin was thinking there might be a little more involved in the conversation, but, except for the few occasions where he is a man of too many words, my dad is often a man of few.
Relieved at having this very important task done, Justin reflected for a moment on how easy it had been, how well it had gone. No sooner had he relaxed into the moment than I stepped out onto the deck.
And then the ax fell. My dad, mid-burger flip on the grill, says to me: "I told him 'No.' Heh heh heh heh heh."
Kevin, through clenched teeth: "Dad, shutup."
Dad, through loose lips: "Oh, heh heh. SHHHHHHH."
Justin, in abject horror: speechless.
Me, in equally abject horror: "Unbelievable."
How can a guy recover from that? Not too easily. However, in my family, there are few things that aren't fodder for a good laugh, so the entire dinner was spent with all of us, Justin included, cracking jokes about what had happened, my dad looking quite sheepish. Justin was careful to immediately pass on to my brother the wisdom of making sure to explicitly ask the girl's dad not to say ANYTHING when asking for his blessing. I was deeply grateful for his ability to have a sense of humor about the whole thing. (Luckily, the proposal was never going to be a total surprise, as we'd already been talking about getting married pretty much since we got together. My response to the big question was never going to be "What?! I had no idea this was coming! I have no idea what to say!")
He didn't give up all attempts at suspense, however. While taking a walk around sunset later that night, he stopped and said, "I was going to wait til later to say this, but... it's just so pretty right now." After a pause for dramatic flair, he kissed me and told me that he loved me. And then began walking again. I, ever-so-smoothly, gave him no indication (and thus, no satisfaction) that anything was amiss. No way would I let him know that he had me going for about three seconds.
Jerk.
He later told me that he had other such scenarios all planned out, just to keep me antsy. Luckily for me, the ring was burning a hole in his pocket. He said it was worse than being a kid in the grocery store candy aisle with a buck in hand.
Sunday morning, Justin showed up at my place with two mochas from Starbucks. I was still in bed, and because of the bright and way-too-early sunlight, had sleeping shades over my eyes. I didn't even take them off, I simply slid them up on my head, no doubt sending my already-messy hair into even more impressive directions.
He knelt down by my bed, and we talked for a few minutes. He told me he loves me (nothing unusual here) and how happy I make him (nothing unusual here either -- I am one of those fortunate human beings who is told these things daily). He then paused, and said, "You know, you'd look a whole lot better drinking that coffee if you had a ring on your finger."
He then pulled the ring out of his pocket and said, "Will you marry me?"
It was brilliant. Didn't see it coming at 7:30 on a Sunday morning.
Then and there, sitting in bed with my hair a mess and sleep in my eyes, Justin kneeling beside me, I agreed to be his wife.
***
It's these Big Moments in life that we anticipate perfection. We have a story written out in our head of how things will go -- what will happen, and how. What often happens is so much different than the perfectly timed movie-like scenes that play out in our minds.
However, these moments are not played out by actors and actresses, but by human beings. They involve the unpredicable blurt-outs of a father excited for his daughter's at-last happiness. They involve a family laughing over it all (and perhaps doing a bit of mocking and scoffing) for hours afterward. They involve a proposal to me in my pajamas with my hair a mess and sleeping shades resting crookedly on top of my head.
These moments play our far differently than what you imagine in your head. They are better and more beautiful and far more moving than you could ever anticipate. They are real. They are perfect.
***
Ten thirty a.m. Sunday morning, my phone rings. My dad is calling from work.
Me: "Morning, dad."
Dad: "You two official yet? Heh heh heh."
The girls and I all crashed at Grace's on Friday night. We met there around seven, so Justin and I made dinner together before I headed out. As we're leaving, he tells me: "Don't hurry back or anything. I'll probably uh, sleep in, and afterward, I'll get some chores done before heading out to your place."
I turned away, biting my lip to avoid laughing. He doesn't sleep in. And I doubted he'd be worried about chores first thing on a Saturday morning. Beyond this, he's just not a very talented liar. This honesty is a plus in most situations, a curse for him in this particular scenario.
I went to Grace's. Kevin had come over from Seattle to hang out with the fam for the weekend, so after I left Grace's the next morning, I headed to my parent's place. We're sitting there at the kitchen table drinking coffee and laughing as usual, when there's a knock at the door.
"That'd be Justin," I say, thinking that he'd stopped by the Little Blue House a quarter mile away and guessed where I'd be.
This is the moment where I was a little slow on the uptake. Poor Justin had stopped by to ask my dad for his permission and blessing to marry me. He was unfortunate on two counts. One, my brother and I were there. Two, my dad was working the weekend.
He played it off well.
Kevo and I and Justin went to the LBH and watched a triple feature (the temps were in the 95-degree range and Washington homes don't have A/C for the most part, so we were incapable of actual activity). We later reappeared at my folks' house for a barbecue.
My mom, grandma and I were in the kitchen prepping some of the food. Justin, boasting of his grilling skills, went out on the deck with my dad.
So Justin asked my dad for his blessing, to which my dad's highly verbal response was, "Yeah, sure! No problem."
Justin was thinking there might be a little more involved in the conversation, but, except for the few occasions where he is a man of too many words, my dad is often a man of few.
Relieved at having this very important task done, Justin reflected for a moment on how easy it had been, how well it had gone. No sooner had he relaxed into the moment than I stepped out onto the deck.
And then the ax fell. My dad, mid-burger flip on the grill, says to me: "I told him 'No.' Heh heh heh heh heh."
Kevin, through clenched teeth: "Dad, shutup."
Dad, through loose lips: "Oh, heh heh. SHHHHHHH."
Justin, in abject horror: speechless.
Me, in equally abject horror: "Unbelievable."
How can a guy recover from that? Not too easily. However, in my family, there are few things that aren't fodder for a good laugh, so the entire dinner was spent with all of us, Justin included, cracking jokes about what had happened, my dad looking quite sheepish. Justin was careful to immediately pass on to my brother the wisdom of making sure to explicitly ask the girl's dad not to say ANYTHING when asking for his blessing. I was deeply grateful for his ability to have a sense of humor about the whole thing. (Luckily, the proposal was never going to be a total surprise, as we'd already been talking about getting married pretty much since we got together. My response to the big question was never going to be "What?! I had no idea this was coming! I have no idea what to say!")
He didn't give up all attempts at suspense, however. While taking a walk around sunset later that night, he stopped and said, "I was going to wait til later to say this, but... it's just so pretty right now." After a pause for dramatic flair, he kissed me and told me that he loved me. And then began walking again. I, ever-so-smoothly, gave him no indication (and thus, no satisfaction) that anything was amiss. No way would I let him know that he had me going for about three seconds.
Jerk.
He later told me that he had other such scenarios all planned out, just to keep me antsy. Luckily for me, the ring was burning a hole in his pocket. He said it was worse than being a kid in the grocery store candy aisle with a buck in hand.
Sunday morning, Justin showed up at my place with two mochas from Starbucks. I was still in bed, and because of the bright and way-too-early sunlight, had sleeping shades over my eyes. I didn't even take them off, I simply slid them up on my head, no doubt sending my already-messy hair into even more impressive directions.
He knelt down by my bed, and we talked for a few minutes. He told me he loves me (nothing unusual here) and how happy I make him (nothing unusual here either -- I am one of those fortunate human beings who is told these things daily). He then paused, and said, "You know, you'd look a whole lot better drinking that coffee if you had a ring on your finger."
He then pulled the ring out of his pocket and said, "Will you marry me?"
It was brilliant. Didn't see it coming at 7:30 on a Sunday morning.
Then and there, sitting in bed with my hair a mess and sleep in my eyes, Justin kneeling beside me, I agreed to be his wife.
***
It's these Big Moments in life that we anticipate perfection. We have a story written out in our head of how things will go -- what will happen, and how. What often happens is so much different than the perfectly timed movie-like scenes that play out in our minds.
However, these moments are not played out by actors and actresses, but by human beings. They involve the unpredicable blurt-outs of a father excited for his daughter's at-last happiness. They involve a family laughing over it all (and perhaps doing a bit of mocking and scoffing) for hours afterward. They involve a proposal to me in my pajamas with my hair a mess and sleeping shades resting crookedly on top of my head.
These moments play our far differently than what you imagine in your head. They are better and more beautiful and far more moving than you could ever anticipate. They are real. They are perfect.
***
Ten thirty a.m. Sunday morning, my phone rings. My dad is calling from work.
Me: "Morning, dad."
Dad: "You two official yet? Heh heh heh."
lunes, 24 de julio de 2006
a question, and an answer
Well, some of you have guessed that something, or rather, someONE, has inadvertently been keeping me from blogging of late. Some of you would be absolutely correct.
What a sweet, sweet distraction he's been, too. :)
Yesterday morning, Justin got down on his knees and asked me to be his wife.
I happily accepted.
How sweet and full of joy my life is.
More details to come. You can't write stuff this good. :)
What a sweet, sweet distraction he's been, too. :)
Yesterday morning, Justin got down on his knees and asked me to be his wife.
I happily accepted.
How sweet and full of joy my life is.
More details to come. You can't write stuff this good. :)
domingo, 4 de junio de 2006
to be known
If you're me, the thing you want the most is the very thing you fear the most.
I want to be known. I do. There is something amazing about knowing that, in all the wide world, there are a precious few who know you and understand you. They get it. It's freeing.
I want to be known. But it sure is scary once someone gets beyond the pleasant parts to the messy, more shaky, more hidden (and for good reason) parts.
During the many hours spent wandering in words -- some face to face, many more with a phone clamped to my ear (much to Verizon Wireless' delight and extreme profit this month, the bastards) -- I found the friend and love I've wanted all my life. Our hearts thrill to the same things that are beautiful in this life -- but we are different enough to keep things interesting. After all this time, I have found my match. Me. Of all people.
There is no way to do this justice. How could I have possibly known that love would find me this year? I am loved so well. I didn't even know exactly what I needed, but here he is. Funny bordering on extremely goofy. An honest pilgrim, seeking authentic faith. A lover of words and lyrics and music and film. Master of the deadpan, off-beat joke. Writer of love-letters. Composer of poems. Patient. Generous. Steadfast. Loyal. Passionate.
And for some crazy reason, he chooses me. This works out extremely well for me, but there are times I don't understand it.
He was here a week ago, and began to see some of the crazy that is me. We doubled over in laughter when I clumsily dropped a tub of sour cream from the refrigerator case at Albertsons and it exploded. He very gently reminded me at the gas pump that putting my debit card in the back pocket of my jeans could cause me problems finding it later. He helped me search for my keys about ten different times over the course of the weekend. He came out of my bathroom, chuckling at the fact that I don't put the cap back on the toothpaste. Sunday night, he gladly helped me search my car for my glasses and drove back down to Red Robin with me to check the lost & found and see if I'd left them there at dinner.
Sense a pattern?
(After a headache-filled week, I finally found the glasses. Checking with Red Robin that all-important third time worked out all right for me).
Those are the kinds of messiness that cause me some embarrassment, but are still placed gently in the "cute" category, at least for now. There are other kinds of messiness that, no matter where they're placed, are so hard for me to let another person see. Especially in the everyday, ever-growing intimacy that is ours. I am messy. I am human. I don't like either.
There are days and sometimes weeks on end that I get so twisted up into knots over the craziness that is cubicle land, I am a teary disaster. It's easy for life's out-of-whack moments to really throw me off for far longer than they should. When this happens, I like to stick my head in the sand and not move for a while. (This rarely helps matters). When relationships get bumpy, I am drained of all energy until I can find resolution and peace. Sometimes I'm the reason the war drags on. When it comes to supporting others, I am far more likely to offer words than an ear. I easily forget that sometimes it's not a feisty defender that's needed, just a soft shoulder.
Some days I can't talk myself out of my own causeless melancholy.
There is something beautiful about a person promising to be there in good moments and bad, but there is also something truly terrifying in knowing that another person bears witness to your life. They see it all.
Days like today, I find myself once again face-to-face with some of my haunting demons, some of my bloodied brick walls. Love is at my door and I find myself wishing I could get myself a little more together first, like someone with a cluttered house and unexpected guests, or a woman whose date arrived before she has her face on. I'm so sorry... Just let me put that away. Um... Just let me finish getting myself together. Just ten more minutes, okay? I wish I could present a better me sometimes.
But -- life does not wait for you to have it together, and neither does love. Love walks right on in the door and helps you clean up your junk. It grabs you and kisses you hard, make-up or no. It says, "I know you feel messy. I know you're scared. Buddy -- I'm in. For the good and the bad."
I really hope that as time goes on, I grow. Not only in the areas of my life that are still messy, but in knowing that some parts of me will always be less than what I want them to be. In the meantime, I am learning to be braver. I am learning to let love in and to lean when I need to. Learning to let myself be loved just as much for what I am not (or not yet) as for what I am.
I am learning to be known. It is humbling and it is shaky, but it is so, so right.
It is grace.
I want to be known. I do. There is something amazing about knowing that, in all the wide world, there are a precious few who know you and understand you. They get it. It's freeing.
I want to be known. But it sure is scary once someone gets beyond the pleasant parts to the messy, more shaky, more hidden (and for good reason) parts.
During the many hours spent wandering in words -- some face to face, many more with a phone clamped to my ear (much to Verizon Wireless' delight and extreme profit this month, the bastards) -- I found the friend and love I've wanted all my life. Our hearts thrill to the same things that are beautiful in this life -- but we are different enough to keep things interesting. After all this time, I have found my match. Me. Of all people.
There is no way to do this justice. How could I have possibly known that love would find me this year? I am loved so well. I didn't even know exactly what I needed, but here he is. Funny bordering on extremely goofy. An honest pilgrim, seeking authentic faith. A lover of words and lyrics and music and film. Master of the deadpan, off-beat joke. Writer of love-letters. Composer of poems. Patient. Generous. Steadfast. Loyal. Passionate.
And for some crazy reason, he chooses me. This works out extremely well for me, but there are times I don't understand it.
He was here a week ago, and began to see some of the crazy that is me. We doubled over in laughter when I clumsily dropped a tub of sour cream from the refrigerator case at Albertsons and it exploded. He very gently reminded me at the gas pump that putting my debit card in the back pocket of my jeans could cause me problems finding it later. He helped me search for my keys about ten different times over the course of the weekend. He came out of my bathroom, chuckling at the fact that I don't put the cap back on the toothpaste. Sunday night, he gladly helped me search my car for my glasses and drove back down to Red Robin with me to check the lost & found and see if I'd left them there at dinner.
Sense a pattern?
(After a headache-filled week, I finally found the glasses. Checking with Red Robin that all-important third time worked out all right for me).
Those are the kinds of messiness that cause me some embarrassment, but are still placed gently in the "cute" category, at least for now. There are other kinds of messiness that, no matter where they're placed, are so hard for me to let another person see. Especially in the everyday, ever-growing intimacy that is ours. I am messy. I am human. I don't like either.
There are days and sometimes weeks on end that I get so twisted up into knots over the craziness that is cubicle land, I am a teary disaster. It's easy for life's out-of-whack moments to really throw me off for far longer than they should. When this happens, I like to stick my head in the sand and not move for a while. (This rarely helps matters). When relationships get bumpy, I am drained of all energy until I can find resolution and peace. Sometimes I'm the reason the war drags on. When it comes to supporting others, I am far more likely to offer words than an ear. I easily forget that sometimes it's not a feisty defender that's needed, just a soft shoulder.
Some days I can't talk myself out of my own causeless melancholy.
There is something beautiful about a person promising to be there in good moments and bad, but there is also something truly terrifying in knowing that another person bears witness to your life. They see it all.
Days like today, I find myself once again face-to-face with some of my haunting demons, some of my bloodied brick walls. Love is at my door and I find myself wishing I could get myself a little more together first, like someone with a cluttered house and unexpected guests, or a woman whose date arrived before she has her face on. I'm so sorry... Just let me put that away. Um... Just let me finish getting myself together. Just ten more minutes, okay? I wish I could present a better me sometimes.
But -- life does not wait for you to have it together, and neither does love. Love walks right on in the door and helps you clean up your junk. It grabs you and kisses you hard, make-up or no. It says, "I know you feel messy. I know you're scared. Buddy -- I'm in. For the good and the bad."
I really hope that as time goes on, I grow. Not only in the areas of my life that are still messy, but in knowing that some parts of me will always be less than what I want them to be. In the meantime, I am learning to be braver. I am learning to let love in and to lean when I need to. Learning to let myself be loved just as much for what I am not (or not yet) as for what I am.
I am learning to be known. It is humbling and it is shaky, but it is so, so right.
It is grace.
jueves, 18 de mayo de 2006
Happy 26th Birthday, Justin!
You arrived on the planet a little late for my taste (three days), but, you know, some people insist on arriving fashionably late. With fireworks and lava and the whole bit for dramatic effect. ;)
Enjoy your day, baby. You're my favorite.
Love you, me
Enjoy your day, baby. You're my favorite.
Love you, me
miércoles, 10 de mayo de 2006
howdy, strangers
Hi everyone!
Only have a few minutes this chilly morning before work, but wanted to say a hello. I know it's been a while. :) I haven't forgotten about the Mississippi posts and I can't believe it was a month ago today I was leaving on the trip... this past month has gotten away from me. Rather, this past month has gotten me away from the keyboard. Which, at times, is a really good thing, especially when it's for such great reason.
Justin and I are doing really well, and we're excited for this summer, when he'll be over on my side of the state. Til then, we are talking away our free nights and weekends -- loving every minute of it. I enjoyed my life before -- felt like for the most part I had it good. I liked my life. But now... yeah. I had no idea what I ever did without him. :)
Bunch of friends from work and I are going camping in Eastern WA this weekend, and J will meet us out there -- we're doing a 5k that will take us over the Grand Coulee Dam, so that will be fun.
We're also fishing, which could be interesting. When I was buying my fishing license, I saw a license for goat hunting. I suggested that that might be fun -- what could be more thrilling than a goat hunt?... but apparently I was overruled. Justin was similarly vetoed when he suggested hunting Nessy while we're there, so at least I'm in good company. (I'll bring my bow and my harpoon just in case). The best part? I took my birthday off and will be sticking around an extra day to hang out with J. :) Good gift.
You'll see pics of the madness when I return... til then, have a good weekend everybody. I'll be back around soon. (Probably around June 15th, when my ear will no longer be glued to a telephone after 9 pm. :) )
Only have a few minutes this chilly morning before work, but wanted to say a hello. I know it's been a while. :) I haven't forgotten about the Mississippi posts and I can't believe it was a month ago today I was leaving on the trip... this past month has gotten away from me. Rather, this past month has gotten me away from the keyboard. Which, at times, is a really good thing, especially when it's for such great reason.
Justin and I are doing really well, and we're excited for this summer, when he'll be over on my side of the state. Til then, we are talking away our free nights and weekends -- loving every minute of it. I enjoyed my life before -- felt like for the most part I had it good. I liked my life. But now... yeah. I had no idea what I ever did without him. :)
Bunch of friends from work and I are going camping in Eastern WA this weekend, and J will meet us out there -- we're doing a 5k that will take us over the Grand Coulee Dam, so that will be fun.
We're also fishing, which could be interesting. When I was buying my fishing license, I saw a license for goat hunting. I suggested that that might be fun -- what could be more thrilling than a goat hunt?... but apparently I was overruled. Justin was similarly vetoed when he suggested hunting Nessy while we're there, so at least I'm in good company. (I'll bring my bow and my harpoon just in case). The best part? I took my birthday off and will be sticking around an extra day to hang out with J. :) Good gift.
You'll see pics of the madness when I return... til then, have a good weekend everybody. I'll be back around soon. (Probably around June 15th, when my ear will no longer be glued to a telephone after 9 pm. :) )
miércoles, 26 de abril de 2006
the best update ever
I have to share this happiness or I think I'll bust.
On Friday I had one of my clients here for an all-day meeting. Was a little difficult to keep my head here at work while my heart was over at the SeaTac airport baggage claim, but I made a valiant effort. I pretty much ran out of here at 3:40 or so, praying that I'd make the 4:35 ferry over to Seattle.
I think things could have become violent if I didn't make that boat -- luckily, no one had to get hurt. :)
Made it to Seattle, where, of course, there was a baseball game at the Safe, so traffic was wicked crazy. I thought I'd never get there. I arrived at the airport a little after six, where Justin had been waiting since 4:30. Poor guy. As I drove into the parking garage, hands shaking and heart pounding, I said a quick prayer to God thanking him that this day had finally arrived, and for even bringing J into my life in the first place.
I had been told that he'd be waiting at Baggage Claim 10. Walked as quickly as I could into the airport while trying to not be conspicuous (although the rose I was carrying probably gave me away somewhat). All the way down the escalator into Baggage Claim, I was looking for 10. I happened to be craning to look in the wrong direction, and Justin watched me looking the wrong way for him all the way down. I turned, and there he was. Big dorky smiles on both our faces.
He walked to me as soon as he could get to me, and then -- I was in his arms. He held me there for a few. Lips met, and then, some words were spoken that he'd been waiting to say and I'd been longing to hear.
Not a bad moment, as far as moments go.
Not a bad beginning to a first date, either.
From friendship to love. We have the craziest, most beautiful story ever. I love it. Was kind of fun telling people I was off to the airport to pick up my boyfriend and see him for the first time in, oh, I dunno, SIX YEARS. Good times.
The rest of the weekend was awesome -- telling more stories (the really important ones that you only tell in person), laughing til I couldn't breathe, going out to dinner and still not really being able to eat anything, watching movies, having dinner with my crazy (!) parents, walking down on my beach at sunset, hanging out with a few of my dear friends, going to Starbucks, showing him all my Mississippi photos, getting into a wrestling match that I promptly lost, lying out on my lawn in the sunshine, going to church together, getting told approximately every five minutes how beautiful he thinks I am, holding hands as much as possible... yeah. Five million ordinary things made magic by the fact that he was there. Absolutely magic.
My most favorite weekend. Ever. I thought I couldn't possibly care for him more than I already did, or that I could be more certain of what I wanted -- but this weekend proved me so very wrong. Each day gets better, and I'm enjoying every step we take, knowing that there is a very lovely future ahead.
Love ya, J. Thanks for making life so sweet.
On Friday I had one of my clients here for an all-day meeting. Was a little difficult to keep my head here at work while my heart was over at the SeaTac airport baggage claim, but I made a valiant effort. I pretty much ran out of here at 3:40 or so, praying that I'd make the 4:35 ferry over to Seattle.
I think things could have become violent if I didn't make that boat -- luckily, no one had to get hurt. :)
Made it to Seattle, where, of course, there was a baseball game at the Safe, so traffic was wicked crazy. I thought I'd never get there. I arrived at the airport a little after six, where Justin had been waiting since 4:30. Poor guy. As I drove into the parking garage, hands shaking and heart pounding, I said a quick prayer to God thanking him that this day had finally arrived, and for even bringing J into my life in the first place.
I had been told that he'd be waiting at Baggage Claim 10. Walked as quickly as I could into the airport while trying to not be conspicuous (although the rose I was carrying probably gave me away somewhat). All the way down the escalator into Baggage Claim, I was looking for 10. I happened to be craning to look in the wrong direction, and Justin watched me looking the wrong way for him all the way down. I turned, and there he was. Big dorky smiles on both our faces.
He walked to me as soon as he could get to me, and then -- I was in his arms. He held me there for a few. Lips met, and then, some words were spoken that he'd been waiting to say and I'd been longing to hear.
Not a bad moment, as far as moments go.
Not a bad beginning to a first date, either.
From friendship to love. We have the craziest, most beautiful story ever. I love it. Was kind of fun telling people I was off to the airport to pick up my boyfriend and see him for the first time in, oh, I dunno, SIX YEARS. Good times.
The rest of the weekend was awesome -- telling more stories (the really important ones that you only tell in person), laughing til I couldn't breathe, going out to dinner and still not really being able to eat anything, watching movies, having dinner with my crazy (!) parents, walking down on my beach at sunset, hanging out with a few of my dear friends, going to Starbucks, showing him all my Mississippi photos, getting into a wrestling match that I promptly lost, lying out on my lawn in the sunshine, going to church together, getting told approximately every five minutes how beautiful he thinks I am, holding hands as much as possible... yeah. Five million ordinary things made magic by the fact that he was there. Absolutely magic.
My most favorite weekend. Ever. I thought I couldn't possibly care for him more than I already did, or that I could be more certain of what I wanted -- but this weekend proved me so very wrong. Each day gets better, and I'm enjoying every step we take, knowing that there is a very lovely future ahead.
Love ya, J. Thanks for making life so sweet.
lunes, 24 de abril de 2006
jueves, 20 de abril de 2006
home!
I arrived home safe and sound on Tuesday night, newly grateful for things such as flushing toilets, bathtubs, queen-sized beds. As I drove into Poulsbo on Wednesday morning, I saw each and every building through new eyes. What would that look like hurricaned? It will be a while before normal feels normal again. I saw too much.
As curious co-workers stop by my cube to see pictures and hear what it was like, I find myself enjoying the telling of my moments there. These are stories too precious not to tell.
You'll hear. Soon. I couldn't hold the stories in if I tried.
It will just need to be delayed by a weekend. Justin flies in on Friday night and there, in the baggage claim at SeaTac airport, a much-anticipated, long-overdue reunion will take place.
There are not words for such a moment.
Til Monday, then.
As curious co-workers stop by my cube to see pictures and hear what it was like, I find myself enjoying the telling of my moments there. These are stories too precious not to tell.
You'll hear. Soon. I couldn't hold the stories in if I tried.
It will just need to be delayed by a weekend. Justin flies in on Friday night and there, in the baggage claim at SeaTac airport, a much-anticipated, long-overdue reunion will take place.
There are not words for such a moment.
Til Monday, then.
miércoles, 12 de abril de 2006
greetings from Bay St. Louis!
Hey all --
Thanks for the wellwishes and prayers. Don't have a lot of time to write, due to electrical problems this is the first time we've had internet in a while and there is a line...
But just wanted to say that this has already been an amazing experience. I can't believe the things my eyes have seen, the people I've met, the moments I'm holding on to.
The majority of today was spent helping a woman sift through the remaining rubble and debris where her house used to stand. Entire blocks in this area -- no houses left. Just piles of debris twice as tall as me when I stand. It absolutely boggles the mind.
What also boggles my mind is the joy a person can find in one photograph, one teacup, one lid to a cookie jar, one hidden treasure of old silver. Tears, gratitude (and in true Southern style, offers of food and sweet tea). In the midst of losing everything, I'm humbled by people's ability to be grateful for what they DO have, and their desire to serve us and bless us.
More later, but thanks for the prayers. I feel God in every moment.
Thanks for the wellwishes and prayers. Don't have a lot of time to write, due to electrical problems this is the first time we've had internet in a while and there is a line...
But just wanted to say that this has already been an amazing experience. I can't believe the things my eyes have seen, the people I've met, the moments I'm holding on to.
The majority of today was spent helping a woman sift through the remaining rubble and debris where her house used to stand. Entire blocks in this area -- no houses left. Just piles of debris twice as tall as me when I stand. It absolutely boggles the mind.
What also boggles my mind is the joy a person can find in one photograph, one teacup, one lid to a cookie jar, one hidden treasure of old silver. Tears, gratitude (and in true Southern style, offers of food and sweet tea). In the midst of losing everything, I'm humbled by people's ability to be grateful for what they DO have, and their desire to serve us and bless us.
More later, but thanks for the prayers. I feel God in every moment.
lunes, 10 de abril de 2006
whelp, here we go...
It's 1 a.m. In a little over three hours, my journey to Mississippi begins.
In hopes of sleeping on the plane, and due to being way too wired, I'm not hitting the sack tonight, so coffee will most likely be the order of the day.
There are moments in life where you stop for a second, say, "WOW," and really let it fully hit you just how amazingly good and sweet life and God have been to you. Are being to you.
I am amazed at the joy these past few weeks have brought me. And, as if that's not enough, I am so happy that the door to this opportunity in Mississippi swung open wide and I get the chance to go love on some folks who need it this week. I know that there's absolutely no way I can't come back with a bigger heart. And man... I want that.
I really would appreciate your prayers for me and the team this week. Pray that we would be a blessing and that because of us people would sense God's nearness and his love. There's an awful lot of hurt in the world, especially there in Bay St. Louis. If we can bring some restored hope along with restored houses, we'll have been a success.
S
In hopes of sleeping on the plane, and due to being way too wired, I'm not hitting the sack tonight, so coffee will most likely be the order of the day.
There are moments in life where you stop for a second, say, "WOW," and really let it fully hit you just how amazingly good and sweet life and God have been to you. Are being to you.
I am amazed at the joy these past few weeks have brought me. And, as if that's not enough, I am so happy that the door to this opportunity in Mississippi swung open wide and I get the chance to go love on some folks who need it this week. I know that there's absolutely no way I can't come back with a bigger heart. And man... I want that.
I really would appreciate your prayers for me and the team this week. Pray that we would be a blessing and that because of us people would sense God's nearness and his love. There's an awful lot of hurt in the world, especially there in Bay St. Louis. If we can bring some restored hope along with restored houses, we'll have been a success.
S
domingo, 9 de abril de 2006
30 years ago today
Thirty years ago today, a lovely girl with flowing auburn hair and bright blue eyes said her I-do's to a tall man with a pair of sweet chops and a big smile. They spoke their words in a tiny wedding chapel with only a few family members to hear it (they actually bumped the wedding a little because my uncle got hungry and they had to stop for something to eat).
Little fanfare, little to-do. Lots of love.
They met where all great loves begin -- the skating rink. My dad, who had arrived with a girl and a group of friends (and swears to high heaven it wasn't a real date), saw my mom skating and laughing, and in a move of superb brilliance and smoothness, asked my mom to do the Couples' Skate with him.
The rest is (a pretty short) history. Three months later, they wed.
Just a small side-note -- my parents are freakin' nuts.
But thirty years later, it's kinda hard to argue with them.
In a world where so many don't get to see what it's like to see their parents stick together through the ups and downs of life, I know I have it so, so good. I got to see what it looks like for two people to be companions through it all. They've walked through some tough stuff together, and came through the other side still caring for each other, still wanting the best for one another, still laughing with each other.
I used to think they were so boring. They're pretty chill, and for the most part their weekday evenings are spent kicking back in front of Wheel of Fortune or Jeopardy (or, Tuesdays, Americal Idol, which kills me). Now the thought of them sitting there, every night, together -- boring as it may seem -- kinda makes me choke up a little. I love that they are, above all, friends who love each other's company. (Most days, anyway).
I am so very proud to call them my own, and wish there were words big enough and good enough to convey it.
I love that my Dad leaves a cup of coffee on my Mom's nightstand every morning, just the way she likes it. I love that my Mom still totally flirts with my Dad, teasing him and shooting him that look with the sly smile that I'd imagine hasn't changed much in 30 years. I love that whatever they choose to do, they do it together. Even their bike has to be a tandem.
In one of their greatest gifts to us (and biggest lessons) -- my brother and I grew up in a home filled with a lot of laughter. Looking back, I know I was lucky. It's only in being older that I understand how much.
So, Mom, Dad, here's to you. You're my heroes, you have to know that. You've made love look good, and together, you've made my time so far on this earth pretty damn sweet, and for that, I thank you.
Here's to at least 30 more years. You'll make that look good, too.
Love you. Enjoy the day. Looking forward to when you guys get to head out to Maui and celebrate in high style. :)
Little fanfare, little to-do. Lots of love.
They met where all great loves begin -- the skating rink. My dad, who had arrived with a girl and a group of friends (and swears to high heaven it wasn't a real date), saw my mom skating and laughing, and in a move of superb brilliance and smoothness, asked my mom to do the Couples' Skate with him.
The rest is (a pretty short) history. Three months later, they wed.
Just a small side-note -- my parents are freakin' nuts.
But thirty years later, it's kinda hard to argue with them.
In a world where so many don't get to see what it's like to see their parents stick together through the ups and downs of life, I know I have it so, so good. I got to see what it looks like for two people to be companions through it all. They've walked through some tough stuff together, and came through the other side still caring for each other, still wanting the best for one another, still laughing with each other.
I used to think they were so boring. They're pretty chill, and for the most part their weekday evenings are spent kicking back in front of Wheel of Fortune or Jeopardy (or, Tuesdays, Americal Idol, which kills me). Now the thought of them sitting there, every night, together -- boring as it may seem -- kinda makes me choke up a little. I love that they are, above all, friends who love each other's company. (Most days, anyway).
I am so very proud to call them my own, and wish there were words big enough and good enough to convey it.
I love that my Dad leaves a cup of coffee on my Mom's nightstand every morning, just the way she likes it. I love that my Mom still totally flirts with my Dad, teasing him and shooting him that look with the sly smile that I'd imagine hasn't changed much in 30 years. I love that whatever they choose to do, they do it together. Even their bike has to be a tandem.
In one of their greatest gifts to us (and biggest lessons) -- my brother and I grew up in a home filled with a lot of laughter. Looking back, I know I was lucky. It's only in being older that I understand how much.
So, Mom, Dad, here's to you. You're my heroes, you have to know that. You've made love look good, and together, you've made my time so far on this earth pretty damn sweet, and for that, I thank you.
Here's to at least 30 more years. You'll make that look good, too.
Love you. Enjoy the day. Looking forward to when you guys get to head out to Maui and celebrate in high style. :)
sábado, 8 de abril de 2006
telling stories
It's hard to know even where to begin. So much has happened. This is a story I have been DYING to tell. I'm at a good place to tell it, and I suspect there's at least ONE who's dying to read it, so...
I guess the beginning is a good spot.
I've known him since we were seventeen years old (we were born three days apart). We went to community college for two years together and then went off to the same small Bible college. We served in the same youth ministry -- he was Kevo's small group leader (introducing him to the majesty of Mountain Dew), and I led group for his cousins, Brett & Garrett (they had me doing the Dew in no time).
At community college, we'd see each other everyday in the lounge where we'd all congregate before and after our classes to talk and goof off and drink mochas a la Mark. We were great friends -- no one could make me laugh like this tall goofy kid did, and I always found that the conversation flowed easy. It's been almost ten years since we sat in those chairs, and I recall glimpses only. But I distinctly remember that he was kinder to me than he was to the rest, as well as simply being kinder than the rest.
I had a boyfriend. Of course, I had a boyfriend. (And yes, he was nicer to me than the boyfriend, too).
We headed off to Bible college and while we remained friends, things changed as we made new friends and found our time filled with different pursuits. We didn't have coffee together each morning -- we lost touch. After one year at the school, we both left in different degrees of disillusionment. He moved to Cheney, near Spokane (across the state) and began his search for authentic faith, and I came home, having utterly failed, to try to sort out the remains of The Plan I'd started out with. That could have been the end of the story where Justin is concerned. I'm so glad it's not.
I have this amazing friend from that year at college who I suspect I am somewhat indebted to... I don't think buying him a beer will quite cover it, either. Levi, my closest guy friend and the only one I've kept in good touch with since that year, also moved over to Spokane and ended up living in the apartment below Justin. I guess I came up at one point or another, and Levi gave Justin the address to my blog. Curious after nearly six years, he went. He read. He wrote me an email and we ended up talking on the phone for a bit late that night, catching up on where the last several years had taken us.
This was May 2005, and from there we began flurries of emails back and forth, covering everything from music to books to movies (just about anything a person can have a top ten list of) to our favorite stories and where our faith journey had taken us. The conversation would be going great -- seamless, really, so comfortable -- but inevitably the part of my life that's away from the keyboard would get crazy for me, and there would be these pauses. I'd be working long hours at work. I'd go on a few dates.
Life would calm down again, and we'd always pick up our conversation and our friendship where we left off.
Fast forward to March 18. (Or, scroll down to March 18th, if that's easier). After a long battle with myself, I finally wrote here about how I was really doing. Life was good -- job was good, LBH was good, church was getting better. Despite this, I wanted something more. Wanted someone to share it all with. I wanted someone, but not just anyone, and because I am complicated, so was this situation. "Just anyone" could never make me happy (at least for more than about a week, typically), and so -- I would rather walk on my own. But it ached a little.
I have to say that I felt so stupid writing this post. Just what the internet needs. Another whiney post about someone being single. I felt so ridiculous and stupid, but I had to get the thoughts out.
Little did I know that six hours away, there was a guy sitting as his keyboard racking his brains and wrestling with words trying to come up with the right things to say in response to what he'd read that night. He would type, backspace, type, backspace, walk away, come back, hit save, walk away, come back, backspace and type some more, and eventually take a deep breath and hit send.
Although I have the thing memorized word for word, I've read it so many times, I'll try to just give you the gist. There was more to it, but here's what got my attention: He told me that he'd liked me from the moment he'd met me. Of course, I was dating someone at the time, and for him that meant I was completely off limits. Being off-limits allowed him to get to know me solely as his friend. He told me he was thankful for my friendship. Time passed, and he said we'd both changed. He remembered the time we'd talked on the phone months before, and how surprised he'd been that I swore. (Sidenote -- The old me was way too concerned with trying to be perfect and earn my grace, so I'm sure this slip was a surprise). He thought I would be the same, but I wasn't.
"It was unexpected and beautiful. Look here, kiddo. You're amazing. I want you to know that you're amazing. I'm on your side and I'm cheering for you..."
Little did he know that there I was, six hours away at my keyboard, with a tear or two about to spill out of my eyes. I was blown away.
When I wrote him back, I didn't know at that point how deep this would end up going. I just knew that I had to thank him for what he'd said, and that I wanted to make sure that this time there wasn't a pause in the conversation. I had to know this guy. I had to hear his stories. I had to try to understand the heart behind such brave words.
This next part is a bit of a blur, because I don't know how it happened. All I know is, I got totally knocked on my ass. One moment, I was thanking him for comforting me at a time when I needed some comfort. Not too much later, I am checking my email approximately every five seconds, hoping he's written me, hoping I've heard from him. We typed miles during those weeks. Your Life: Chapter One -- Childhood. What's the best case scenario for your life this year? What makes you happy? What's the most beautiful thing you've heard/seen/experienced? What?! You play Johnny Cash's Hurt on repeat thirty times in a row, too? I thought I was the only annoying person in the world who did that...
I told him my fingers hurt and that maybe it would be fun to talk on the phone. He promptly called me the next day as soon as I got home from work. The conversation flowed just as easily as it had in type, except for with a lot less work and a lot more laughter. Fifteen minutes in... his phone battery died. I am so glad no one was here to hear the words that flew out of my mouth. Panicked transfer back to typing... on chat for about two and a half hours.
He went to Boise for a week and the emails slowed slightly... I realized that I missed a whole lot more than just my pal Justin. I realized that, whatever this was becoming, I really wanted it to grow. I knew deep down that something was up. There was a similarity of heart and mind and values and faith and humor that was unlike anything I'd ever found in someone before.
Levi called in the middle of all this, and I told him. I will never forget the roar of laughter on the other end of the phone line. "Well, that's just perfect." More laughter. He had to explain to me that he wasn't laughing at me, just laughing at how it fit, given our goofball personalities, the twisted sense of humor, and on the flip side, the depth in each of us.
Justin bought a new phone while he was in Boise visiting his friends (I laugh when I think of him reading the back of the box for battery life/talk time). We promptly started abusing it the day he got home. I haven't slept much in a week. Three hours Monday night/morning. Three hours Tuesday night/morning. Telling story after story after story. We don't have talks about "X" issue. It all just kinda happens as we share details and moments and memories.
Five hours Wednesday night, which is almost my favorite because that's the night we 'fessed up. That we couldn't stop smiling like idiots, much to the amusement of those who see us everyday. That we'd already told half our friends how we felt. That it's hard to concentrate on anything other than emails sent, letters mailed and words said. We talked about what we're looking for in that person. What we value. What we would want someone to value in us. Then, he told me how he feels about me. Specifically. What he loves about me, how he's amazed by me... on and on and on, so much so that I can't even capture it all in my memory. Too much to hold. I'm so used to having to hang on to this one nice thing that someone said, and with Justin, I'm mad because I can't even remember it all. I need a tape recorder.
I was right there with him. Said so. I can't pinpoint the exact moment, but I think I was in my car driving to work one morning and I just realized that here, in this friend I'd known a good chunk of my life, was exactly what I wanted. And then some. Here in this friend who'd always cared about me was someone who gets me. We talk and talk and talk, but not out of a need to explain. We just get this huge kick out of hearing our thoughts come flying out of someone else's mouth. It seriously weirds me out how much we share a brain. I laugh so hard.
The only reason that it's not my absolute favorite conversation is that Thursday night and then Friday night followed (another six hours combined). Each day, I feel more and more that I have no idea what I ever did without him.
Here's the deal: I never thought I could have this. Never. I never thought there was another person on the planet that thought the way I did about my relationship with Jesus, about what's important in life, about how genius Johnny Cash is and how deeply U2 songs shake my bones. I never knew there was a person who could possibly understand how much open honesty and authenticity and grace matter to me. Who would be able to say, out loud, words that move me and stretch me and encourage me. Who is so stinking humble that I want to make it my personal mission to every day remind him of how incredible he is. Who isn't scared of the fact that I am oftentimes messy and unfinished, rather -- he likes me most in those moments and says that he admires how brave I am in living them. Who tells me the truth even when it may cost him. Who for some crazy reason considers the highlight of his day when he gets to hear my voice. (And he's heard it for about twenty hours this week, so that's saying something).
Beyond that, I'm not sure I ever really thought I deserved it. I always tried so hard to, but I never truly believed that I could expect to find such kindness and grace and tenderness in a person. And here, I don't have to try at all, I'm fully my goofy, way-too-talkative self, and I'm told every day how cherished I am. What a blessing I am. How unexpected I am. (Favorite question of his: "Where did you come from?")
I wonder why I ever bothered before. I really do. Nothing compares. Not even remotely.
I could go on and on. I really could. I do. Be glad you're not hearing this story in person, because I'm not sure everyone has at least a couple hours (Julie has had the time available, for which I am most grateful and indebted to her forever).
Bottom line -- everything that came before, everything you ever read here about the times my heart got broken, about the seasons where I felt alone, about the times I wondered what on earth God was doing with my story -- ALL SO WORTH IT. It all brought me here to this point.
It is beautiful, and comfortable, and sweet, and nothing short of miraculous. It is home.
Justin... I just can't wait. This is going to be rad!! Thank you for being your amazing self & caring about me the way you do. I'll do my best to one-up you, although I'm fairly certain you've won these last several rounds. :)
I guess the beginning is a good spot.
I've known him since we were seventeen years old (we were born three days apart). We went to community college for two years together and then went off to the same small Bible college. We served in the same youth ministry -- he was Kevo's small group leader (introducing him to the majesty of Mountain Dew), and I led group for his cousins, Brett & Garrett (they had me doing the Dew in no time).
At community college, we'd see each other everyday in the lounge where we'd all congregate before and after our classes to talk and goof off and drink mochas a la Mark. We were great friends -- no one could make me laugh like this tall goofy kid did, and I always found that the conversation flowed easy. It's been almost ten years since we sat in those chairs, and I recall glimpses only. But I distinctly remember that he was kinder to me than he was to the rest, as well as simply being kinder than the rest.
I had a boyfriend. Of course, I had a boyfriend. (And yes, he was nicer to me than the boyfriend, too).
We headed off to Bible college and while we remained friends, things changed as we made new friends and found our time filled with different pursuits. We didn't have coffee together each morning -- we lost touch. After one year at the school, we both left in different degrees of disillusionment. He moved to Cheney, near Spokane (across the state) and began his search for authentic faith, and I came home, having utterly failed, to try to sort out the remains of The Plan I'd started out with. That could have been the end of the story where Justin is concerned. I'm so glad it's not.
I have this amazing friend from that year at college who I suspect I am somewhat indebted to... I don't think buying him a beer will quite cover it, either. Levi, my closest guy friend and the only one I've kept in good touch with since that year, also moved over to Spokane and ended up living in the apartment below Justin. I guess I came up at one point or another, and Levi gave Justin the address to my blog. Curious after nearly six years, he went. He read. He wrote me an email and we ended up talking on the phone for a bit late that night, catching up on where the last several years had taken us.
This was May 2005, and from there we began flurries of emails back and forth, covering everything from music to books to movies (just about anything a person can have a top ten list of) to our favorite stories and where our faith journey had taken us. The conversation would be going great -- seamless, really, so comfortable -- but inevitably the part of my life that's away from the keyboard would get crazy for me, and there would be these pauses. I'd be working long hours at work. I'd go on a few dates.
Life would calm down again, and we'd always pick up our conversation and our friendship where we left off.
Fast forward to March 18. (Or, scroll down to March 18th, if that's easier). After a long battle with myself, I finally wrote here about how I was really doing. Life was good -- job was good, LBH was good, church was getting better. Despite this, I wanted something more. Wanted someone to share it all with. I wanted someone, but not just anyone, and because I am complicated, so was this situation. "Just anyone" could never make me happy (at least for more than about a week, typically), and so -- I would rather walk on my own. But it ached a little.
I have to say that I felt so stupid writing this post. Just what the internet needs. Another whiney post about someone being single. I felt so ridiculous and stupid, but I had to get the thoughts out.
Little did I know that six hours away, there was a guy sitting as his keyboard racking his brains and wrestling with words trying to come up with the right things to say in response to what he'd read that night. He would type, backspace, type, backspace, walk away, come back, hit save, walk away, come back, backspace and type some more, and eventually take a deep breath and hit send.
Although I have the thing memorized word for word, I've read it so many times, I'll try to just give you the gist. There was more to it, but here's what got my attention: He told me that he'd liked me from the moment he'd met me. Of course, I was dating someone at the time, and for him that meant I was completely off limits. Being off-limits allowed him to get to know me solely as his friend. He told me he was thankful for my friendship. Time passed, and he said we'd both changed. He remembered the time we'd talked on the phone months before, and how surprised he'd been that I swore. (Sidenote -- The old me was way too concerned with trying to be perfect and earn my grace, so I'm sure this slip was a surprise). He thought I would be the same, but I wasn't.
"It was unexpected and beautiful. Look here, kiddo. You're amazing. I want you to know that you're amazing. I'm on your side and I'm cheering for you..."
Little did he know that there I was, six hours away at my keyboard, with a tear or two about to spill out of my eyes. I was blown away.
When I wrote him back, I didn't know at that point how deep this would end up going. I just knew that I had to thank him for what he'd said, and that I wanted to make sure that this time there wasn't a pause in the conversation. I had to know this guy. I had to hear his stories. I had to try to understand the heart behind such brave words.
This next part is a bit of a blur, because I don't know how it happened. All I know is, I got totally knocked on my ass. One moment, I was thanking him for comforting me at a time when I needed some comfort. Not too much later, I am checking my email approximately every five seconds, hoping he's written me, hoping I've heard from him. We typed miles during those weeks. Your Life: Chapter One -- Childhood. What's the best case scenario for your life this year? What makes you happy? What's the most beautiful thing you've heard/seen/experienced? What?! You play Johnny Cash's Hurt on repeat thirty times in a row, too? I thought I was the only annoying person in the world who did that...
I told him my fingers hurt and that maybe it would be fun to talk on the phone. He promptly called me the next day as soon as I got home from work. The conversation flowed just as easily as it had in type, except for with a lot less work and a lot more laughter. Fifteen minutes in... his phone battery died. I am so glad no one was here to hear the words that flew out of my mouth. Panicked transfer back to typing... on chat for about two and a half hours.
He went to Boise for a week and the emails slowed slightly... I realized that I missed a whole lot more than just my pal Justin. I realized that, whatever this was becoming, I really wanted it to grow. I knew deep down that something was up. There was a similarity of heart and mind and values and faith and humor that was unlike anything I'd ever found in someone before.
Levi called in the middle of all this, and I told him. I will never forget the roar of laughter on the other end of the phone line. "Well, that's just perfect." More laughter. He had to explain to me that he wasn't laughing at me, just laughing at how it fit, given our goofball personalities, the twisted sense of humor, and on the flip side, the depth in each of us.
Justin bought a new phone while he was in Boise visiting his friends (I laugh when I think of him reading the back of the box for battery life/talk time). We promptly started abusing it the day he got home. I haven't slept much in a week. Three hours Monday night/morning. Three hours Tuesday night/morning. Telling story after story after story. We don't have talks about "X" issue. It all just kinda happens as we share details and moments and memories.
Five hours Wednesday night, which is almost my favorite because that's the night we 'fessed up. That we couldn't stop smiling like idiots, much to the amusement of those who see us everyday. That we'd already told half our friends how we felt. That it's hard to concentrate on anything other than emails sent, letters mailed and words said. We talked about what we're looking for in that person. What we value. What we would want someone to value in us. Then, he told me how he feels about me. Specifically. What he loves about me, how he's amazed by me... on and on and on, so much so that I can't even capture it all in my memory. Too much to hold. I'm so used to having to hang on to this one nice thing that someone said, and with Justin, I'm mad because I can't even remember it all. I need a tape recorder.
I was right there with him. Said so. I can't pinpoint the exact moment, but I think I was in my car driving to work one morning and I just realized that here, in this friend I'd known a good chunk of my life, was exactly what I wanted. And then some. Here in this friend who'd always cared about me was someone who gets me. We talk and talk and talk, but not out of a need to explain. We just get this huge kick out of hearing our thoughts come flying out of someone else's mouth. It seriously weirds me out how much we share a brain. I laugh so hard.
The only reason that it's not my absolute favorite conversation is that Thursday night and then Friday night followed (another six hours combined). Each day, I feel more and more that I have no idea what I ever did without him.
Here's the deal: I never thought I could have this. Never. I never thought there was another person on the planet that thought the way I did about my relationship with Jesus, about what's important in life, about how genius Johnny Cash is and how deeply U2 songs shake my bones. I never knew there was a person who could possibly understand how much open honesty and authenticity and grace matter to me. Who would be able to say, out loud, words that move me and stretch me and encourage me. Who is so stinking humble that I want to make it my personal mission to every day remind him of how incredible he is. Who isn't scared of the fact that I am oftentimes messy and unfinished, rather -- he likes me most in those moments and says that he admires how brave I am in living them. Who tells me the truth even when it may cost him. Who for some crazy reason considers the highlight of his day when he gets to hear my voice. (And he's heard it for about twenty hours this week, so that's saying something).
Beyond that, I'm not sure I ever really thought I deserved it. I always tried so hard to, but I never truly believed that I could expect to find such kindness and grace and tenderness in a person. And here, I don't have to try at all, I'm fully my goofy, way-too-talkative self, and I'm told every day how cherished I am. What a blessing I am. How unexpected I am. (Favorite question of his: "Where did you come from?")
I wonder why I ever bothered before. I really do. Nothing compares. Not even remotely.
I could go on and on. I really could. I do. Be glad you're not hearing this story in person, because I'm not sure everyone has at least a couple hours (Julie has had the time available, for which I am most grateful and indebted to her forever).
Bottom line -- everything that came before, everything you ever read here about the times my heart got broken, about the seasons where I felt alone, about the times I wondered what on earth God was doing with my story -- ALL SO WORTH IT. It all brought me here to this point.
It is beautiful, and comfortable, and sweet, and nothing short of miraculous. It is home.
Justin... I just can't wait. This is going to be rad!! Thank you for being your amazing self & caring about me the way you do. I'll do my best to one-up you, although I'm fairly certain you've won these last several rounds. :)
lunes, 3 de abril de 2006
okay, okay, Jules!
So my bestie called me out for not having posted in about a year, so here I am. Apparently, even though we talk/type nearly every day, she cannot live without my posts, and I cannot deny such a dear friend anything. Anything for the Love! ;)
Quick update, more later:
-- Those of you familiar with Melissa's story -- she has her first MRI since the surgery back in July today. We hung out last night and she's in good spirits, but understandably kinda nervous. We should know results later today. Please, if it's on your heart, remember this in your prayers today. This is big.
-- Mississippi trip is coming up quick -- a week from today. Lots of prep to get things ready for the week I'll be gone, so it's going to be a busy few days in the old cubicle. Now that it's coming up so quick, I am about equal parts slightly nervous and excited, but am so grateful this door was opened for me. And excited that I have a three-hour layover in Houston. Three hours in an airport? YES! PEOPLE WATCHING AT ITS BEST!
-- Life has been so lovely and full lately. My days are full of good time spent with friends, happy memories made, fun conversations had. Keeps me busy, but it's been good times. Happy.
-- One thing that has been a bit of a challenge (and why posts have been so sparse) is that the writing well has been a bit dry lately... I am really looking forward to coming back with stories of what I saw and experienced in Bay St. Louis. Nothing like new perspective, right?
Okay. I'm now late for the gym, so I'd better head out. (It's 6:06 am. Don't act like you're not impressed).
Quick update, more later:
-- Those of you familiar with Melissa's story -- she has her first MRI since the surgery back in July today. We hung out last night and she's in good spirits, but understandably kinda nervous. We should know results later today. Please, if it's on your heart, remember this in your prayers today. This is big.
-- Mississippi trip is coming up quick -- a week from today. Lots of prep to get things ready for the week I'll be gone, so it's going to be a busy few days in the old cubicle. Now that it's coming up so quick, I am about equal parts slightly nervous and excited, but am so grateful this door was opened for me. And excited that I have a three-hour layover in Houston. Three hours in an airport? YES! PEOPLE WATCHING AT ITS BEST!
-- Life has been so lovely and full lately. My days are full of good time spent with friends, happy memories made, fun conversations had. Keeps me busy, but it's been good times. Happy.
-- One thing that has been a bit of a challenge (and why posts have been so sparse) is that the writing well has been a bit dry lately... I am really looking forward to coming back with stories of what I saw and experienced in Bay St. Louis. Nothing like new perspective, right?
Okay. I'm now late for the gym, so I'd better head out. (It's 6:06 am. Don't act like you're not impressed).
lunes, 20 de marzo de 2006
Happy Spring!
Thanks for the thoughts, kids. I try to limit woe-is-me posts to a bare minimum, as it's a real tendency of writers and bloggers particularly to be overly melodramatic (ooh! I'm in a mood! I know... I'll write about it!)... but every now and then ya just feel better for having been honest rather than pretending you have it all together. I think it frees other people up, too. I never see so many emails and/or comments as when I open up a little and admit I have moments where life throws more challenge my way than I'd like. (Actually, I never see so many comments as when I post about the annual Nog Bong Contest... but other than that, candor rules). And it makes me feel better. So there.
I'm reading in the Psalms, and I love that David is melodramatic and complains and whines and tells God that he's pretty sure He's forgotten all about him... and then talks himself back around to reminding himself of how faithful God is. This also makes me feel better. :) God has room for our rants. Isn't that cool?
It is SPRING! And at the LBH, I got some much needed yard work done yesterday in the sunshine (it was a flip-flop day for sure). It was lovely. I fought a rosebush and a mutant fern as I tried to pull them out (both of them had adamantly decided that in the ground is where they wanted to stay)... it was a long and bloody (literally -- stinkin' roses) battle, but I WON. I am now nursing very sore shoulders, but hey. Victory was worth it.
In other news, my brackets are completely shredded. Why, oh why, didn't anyone tell me how much Tennessee sucked? I could have avoided much heartache and perhaps ended up 50$ richer. As it is, I'm still first place in the office pool, but I know my days are numbered. Two of my final four picks are now out. Hang it all.
Go Zags. Puh-lease. (Mockers and scoffers, please remain silent).
Have a great day, all. Thanks for blessing me in all the little ways our worlds bump into each other, even from a distance.
I'm reading in the Psalms, and I love that David is melodramatic and complains and whines and tells God that he's pretty sure He's forgotten all about him... and then talks himself back around to reminding himself of how faithful God is. This also makes me feel better. :) God has room for our rants. Isn't that cool?
It is SPRING! And at the LBH, I got some much needed yard work done yesterday in the sunshine (it was a flip-flop day for sure). It was lovely. I fought a rosebush and a mutant fern as I tried to pull them out (both of them had adamantly decided that in the ground is where they wanted to stay)... it was a long and bloody (literally -- stinkin' roses) battle, but I WON. I am now nursing very sore shoulders, but hey. Victory was worth it.
In other news, my brackets are completely shredded. Why, oh why, didn't anyone tell me how much Tennessee sucked? I could have avoided much heartache and perhaps ended up 50$ richer. As it is, I'm still first place in the office pool, but I know my days are numbered. Two of my final four picks are now out. Hang it all.
Go Zags. Puh-lease. (Mockers and scoffers, please remain silent).
Have a great day, all. Thanks for blessing me in all the little ways our worlds bump into each other, even from a distance.
sábado, 18 de marzo de 2006
The Post
I can tell already that this is going to be one of those slightly messy stream-of-consciousness posts (been brewing for a while), so feel free to skip this one, I wouldn't be offended in the least. I'm feeling quite human this evening, and just need to throw some words at the wall for a bit, get them out of my head.
This kills me, but I'll just say it: I'm lonely. Ish. And feeling more than a little restless.
The thing is, life is great. When I think back to last year, and how much has happened since then, I am absolutely amazed at God's goodness to me. This time last year, the internship was beginning to unravel, I had just applied for a job with a church in Bellevue (thus beginning a job search that would last six frustrating months), and my best friend Julie and brother Kevin had both moved away. This time last year, I was still nursing a broken heart and we were trying that whole horribly confusing "friends" thing. I'm still glad we did, but in retrospect it pretty much doubled the recup time.
Fast forward twelve months. Things with church are going well, and the ginormous chip on my shoulder has for the most part melted away. I'm in a small group I love dearly and am a part of launching a new church plant with one of my dearest friends. I have a challenging job I enjoy - a great mix of passions and skill - that has potential to be long-term (I've stopped looking for a "real job"). Julie and I are closer than ever, and Kevo and I still get together whenever we can. God has brought new friends into my life through work and church and it's nice to know that I'm surrounded by people who care about me & who won't let me off the hook when I try to disappear every now and then. The heart is healed up; a little scarred perhaps, but there's no longer pain there.
In a word: life has become pretty settled. I'm not having to entertain many of the big questions that were hallmarks of my last several years. Although life and God have a tendency to mess with any established plans (and they have that permission), it's nice not to be constantly asking myself questions like where am I going to live next month? or where should I turn in an application this week? should I go back to school? should I stay here and attempt to find a job that will pay me enough to eat, etc.?
Yeah, things are good. So what's the problem?
Whatever. You guys already know the rant that is coming.
It's just reaching that slightly weird point in my life where nearly all my friends are married. Definitely all my friends my age are. Most of them are having babies, which is wonderful and just a little strange all at the same time. And while I have no notions of their lives being perfect now that they've sealed the deal where love is concerned, there's a piece of me that is envious. I love my laid-back nights after work, my fun on the weekends, but I'm reaching the place where I've proved I can do all that on my own and be okay... I'd like someone to share all that with now. Work is great, and although I love what I do, I never was one of those who set out for my career to be the most fulfilling thing in life. Don't sign me up just yet for the local chapter of the Scrapbooking Club, but wife someday and mom someday are pretty high up on the list.
It's wicked hard to admit this to yourself if you're me. I've prided myself on being just fine with life on my own, thankyouverymuch. Probably been a little feisty about it. (Especially at weddings, where I inwardly give obnoxious people awards for being the first or most original in their comments about my singlehood :) ). I've always distanced myself from the behavior of "those girls" who had subscriptions to forty bridal magazines and stalked the living crap out of any man unlucky enough to attract her affections. I absolutely refuse to give chase, and I'm not afraid to delete a cellphone number or two. (Jules is totally snickering right now). But now, even "those girls" are married, and I'm thinking to myself that it is a strange and complicated universe that I live in.
Part of it is complicated because I am. I already know it's going to take a pretty unique person to make me happy and to happily choose to put up with me. Although ministry is big on my heart, I know the schmoozy superstar ministry-type won't work for me (you know -- Behold!-I-am-Chris-Tomlin-cross-bred-with-Dave-Matthews-with-perfectly-tousled-hair)... just as I know the totally church-averse person is out. If a guy uses basketball as a metaphor for life, we probably won't hit it off, but the last thing I need is someone even more sensitive than I am. Good communicator? In. Intellectual snob? Out. Camping, hiking... IN... I'm not sure if it's a non-negotiable, but it's close.
See? Complicated. I say these things half-jokingly, but when certain things are missing, you know it. And to quote a hero, nothing but the deepest sort of love can tempt me into marriage. (It's hard enough even with).
God, can you just send someone who loves you authentically and cares about people but who I can also just enjoy a beer and a good laugh with?
Knowing me, if and when it happens, I'll probably end up surprised.
I know all the cliches that people normally interject at points like this. Know them by heart. Worse, I know that they're true. God has a plan, when you're not looking it will happen (my personal favorite), don't worry at least you're not thirty yet, yada yada yada. It's just that so many of them are spoken to me by people who are no longer living in that strange not-yet. Schmucks. (Just kidding. Seriously. I know they vaguely remember what it was like).
I do live in the strange not-yet, and to own the truth, I choose to remind myself of these things all the time, (especially on nights I head to church or to my small group, where I am the token single person). God has a plan. Focus on what God's asking you to do right now, in the present. Don't be so impatient to get to what's next that you miss what's good now. All of that. Some days I do a better job than others. I hold my friends' babies and make them giggle and start laughing out loud myself... that seems to be enough. Other days, it's a little harder and I whisper a few quiet prayers to God, reminding myself that he knows where I am and what I need.
He knows what I need. When I need it. So even on nights like tonight, when all is just a little too quiet, I'll do my best to continue learning how to trust him.
...end rant. I feel better now.
This kills me, but I'll just say it: I'm lonely. Ish. And feeling more than a little restless.
The thing is, life is great. When I think back to last year, and how much has happened since then, I am absolutely amazed at God's goodness to me. This time last year, the internship was beginning to unravel, I had just applied for a job with a church in Bellevue (thus beginning a job search that would last six frustrating months), and my best friend Julie and brother Kevin had both moved away. This time last year, I was still nursing a broken heart and we were trying that whole horribly confusing "friends" thing. I'm still glad we did, but in retrospect it pretty much doubled the recup time.
Fast forward twelve months. Things with church are going well, and the ginormous chip on my shoulder has for the most part melted away. I'm in a small group I love dearly and am a part of launching a new church plant with one of my dearest friends. I have a challenging job I enjoy - a great mix of passions and skill - that has potential to be long-term (I've stopped looking for a "real job"). Julie and I are closer than ever, and Kevo and I still get together whenever we can. God has brought new friends into my life through work and church and it's nice to know that I'm surrounded by people who care about me & who won't let me off the hook when I try to disappear every now and then. The heart is healed up; a little scarred perhaps, but there's no longer pain there.
In a word: life has become pretty settled. I'm not having to entertain many of the big questions that were hallmarks of my last several years. Although life and God have a tendency to mess with any established plans (and they have that permission), it's nice not to be constantly asking myself questions like where am I going to live next month? or where should I turn in an application this week? should I go back to school? should I stay here and attempt to find a job that will pay me enough to eat, etc.?
Yeah, things are good. So what's the problem?
Whatever. You guys already know the rant that is coming.
It's just reaching that slightly weird point in my life where nearly all my friends are married. Definitely all my friends my age are. Most of them are having babies, which is wonderful and just a little strange all at the same time. And while I have no notions of their lives being perfect now that they've sealed the deal where love is concerned, there's a piece of me that is envious. I love my laid-back nights after work, my fun on the weekends, but I'm reaching the place where I've proved I can do all that on my own and be okay... I'd like someone to share all that with now. Work is great, and although I love what I do, I never was one of those who set out for my career to be the most fulfilling thing in life. Don't sign me up just yet for the local chapter of the Scrapbooking Club, but wife someday and mom someday are pretty high up on the list.
It's wicked hard to admit this to yourself if you're me. I've prided myself on being just fine with life on my own, thankyouverymuch. Probably been a little feisty about it. (Especially at weddings, where I inwardly give obnoxious people awards for being the first or most original in their comments about my singlehood :) ). I've always distanced myself from the behavior of "those girls" who had subscriptions to forty bridal magazines and stalked the living crap out of any man unlucky enough to attract her affections. I absolutely refuse to give chase, and I'm not afraid to delete a cellphone number or two. (Jules is totally snickering right now). But now, even "those girls" are married, and I'm thinking to myself that it is a strange and complicated universe that I live in.
Part of it is complicated because I am. I already know it's going to take a pretty unique person to make me happy and to happily choose to put up with me. Although ministry is big on my heart, I know the schmoozy superstar ministry-type won't work for me (you know -- Behold!-I-am-Chris-Tomlin-cross-bred-with-Dave-Matthews-with-perfectly-tousled-hair)... just as I know the totally church-averse person is out. If a guy uses basketball as a metaphor for life, we probably won't hit it off, but the last thing I need is someone even more sensitive than I am. Good communicator? In. Intellectual snob? Out. Camping, hiking... IN... I'm not sure if it's a non-negotiable, but it's close.
See? Complicated. I say these things half-jokingly, but when certain things are missing, you know it. And to quote a hero, nothing but the deepest sort of love can tempt me into marriage. (It's hard enough even with).
God, can you just send someone who loves you authentically and cares about people but who I can also just enjoy a beer and a good laugh with?
Knowing me, if and when it happens, I'll probably end up surprised.
I know all the cliches that people normally interject at points like this. Know them by heart. Worse, I know that they're true. God has a plan, when you're not looking it will happen (my personal favorite), don't worry at least you're not thirty yet, yada yada yada. It's just that so many of them are spoken to me by people who are no longer living in that strange not-yet. Schmucks. (Just kidding. Seriously. I know they vaguely remember what it was like).
I do live in the strange not-yet, and to own the truth, I choose to remind myself of these things all the time, (especially on nights I head to church or to my small group, where I am the token single person). God has a plan. Focus on what God's asking you to do right now, in the present. Don't be so impatient to get to what's next that you miss what's good now. All of that. Some days I do a better job than others. I hold my friends' babies and make them giggle and start laughing out loud myself... that seems to be enough. Other days, it's a little harder and I whisper a few quiet prayers to God, reminding myself that he knows where I am and what I need.
He knows what I need. When I need it. So even on nights like tonight, when all is just a little too quiet, I'll do my best to continue learning how to trust him.
...end rant. I feel better now.
lunes, 13 de marzo de 2006
we did it!
The St. Patrick's Day Dash was awesome (pretty much the best one I've ever done). It was perfect weather, crystal-clear blue skies, chilly in the shade, perfect in the sun.
Elvis, Batman, and several leprechauns ran the race along with us, as well as 15,000 people in various shades of green and every Irish decoration you can think of. The dude in front of me at the start was running in a kilt. Sweet.
Jules and I ran the entire race with no walking, which is a first for me. We ended up pretty close to our goal of 10-minute miles (we ran the 3.38-mile course in 34:22). Running through simultaneous cramps in both shoulders and both sides of my ribcage was not so fun, but the feeling of accomplishment once we were done was well worth it. This is why I love running... learning to work through the pain. (Much to my relief, the torn-MCL knee from the summer caused me no grief!)
Great race, good times had by all.
Yes, I wore light-up shamrocks. And the most obnoxious green shorts I could find.
Elvis, Batman, and several leprechauns ran the race along with us, as well as 15,000 people in various shades of green and every Irish decoration you can think of. The dude in front of me at the start was running in a kilt. Sweet.
Jules and I ran the entire race with no walking, which is a first for me. We ended up pretty close to our goal of 10-minute miles (we ran the 3.38-mile course in 34:22). Running through simultaneous cramps in both shoulders and both sides of my ribcage was not so fun, but the feeling of accomplishment once we were done was well worth it. This is why I love running... learning to work through the pain. (Much to my relief, the torn-MCL knee from the summer caused me no grief!)
Great race, good times had by all.
Yes, I wore light-up shamrocks. And the most obnoxious green shorts I could find.
lunes, 6 de marzo de 2006
No Perfect People Allowed, Part 45: God's Fairness
God the Artist amazes me. It rained and showered and blustered at intervals today (which I am getting a little sick of, truth be told), but all day long as we looked out our windows, we just saw rainbow after rainbow after rainbow. We might get snow by week's end (sigh), but there's a brave, tiny daffodil that just bloomed two mornings ago in my flowerbed, whispering a tiny reminder that spring can't be far off. I'm glad.
***
Okay, back into what will probably be the last little discussion on this book that is rocking my brain. Again, if you have any interest in helping people bridge the gap from the culture we live in to finding faith in Christ, I can't recommend it enough. You guys know my story well enough to know that I've fought cynicism where the church is concerned, but I am finding hope and encouragement within these pages -- like there might just be a home for outsiders, a place where people can show up as-is and be embraced, just as Jesus would embrace them.
As I mentioned before, the mother-load question that people in our generation often ask of us is this: "How can you say Jesus is the only way to God?" which has a question buried just below its surface: "How can it be fair that Jesus is the only way?" To ignore the question-beneath-the-question and simply enter into a debate with a person is risky at best, foolhardy at worst. You might win the argument, but come off so arrogant that you lose the person (A cocky, know-it-all Christian? Say it ain't so).
This question of what-happens-to-those-who-have-never-heard-of-Christ is one that I was never comfortable with, try as I might to come to terms with what I'd been taught. It was so black and white -- you've either said the sinner's prayer or you haven't, you're either saved or you're not saved when you get into that car accident on your way home from church.
Now, please hear me, I'm not saying that there are no absolutes. (I can hear people wondering if I've gone on some relativistic rampage). I've just been challenged in recent weeks to believe that God and God alone determines those absolutes, and that maybe Christian tradition hasn't had it right all along after all, when we look at the Bible.
The measure that I was always taught for a person's faith was whether or not they had said the sinner's prayer and asked Jesus into their heart. No prayer, no digs.
Here are some of the points from John Burke's sermon on God's fairness... I feel stupid for not considering these thoughts earlier, but here's to new perspective. To be truthful, I'm still processing, still wrapping my head around what this is saying. I'm not going to present it as gospel itself. But I do know that it's challenging me to take another look at the Christian tradition I grew up with. Some of the ideas that were presented as hard-and-fast Biblical truth -- ideas that I never questioned except quietly in the back of my mind -- well, they aren't holding up.
Ultimately, we don't know exactly how God will judge others. We don't know their hearts. But there are certain things we know and don't know from Scripture, according to Burke.
1. Scripture claims that God is the God of all people, and that all people know about God simply through nature. We also know when we're screwing it up -- our consciences tell us. So no one has an excuse for outright ignoring or rejecting God. God looks at the heart, not religion, of every person. (2 Chronicles 16:9; Romans 1:16-2:16).
2. There will be people in heaven made right with God, who never heard the name of Jesus. (Why did this thought never cross my mind? All the heroes of the faith who preceded Christ... are they S.O.L.?) Abraham, Noah, Rahab the prostitute, were all made right with God by faith, which Jesus acknowledged (Hebrews 11 & Romans 4:16-17, John 8:56). If Jesus is the only way, then God took the faith they placed in the knowledge revealed to them (recognizing their need for God's forgiveness and leadership), and God looked ahead to Jesus' death on the cross on their behalf, applying Jesus' sacrifice to them. (Again, it's not such a leap for me to believe that God can apply Jesus' sacrifice 2,000 years ago to my life. Can he not apply it to others as well?) Scripture tells us that people from every tribe, tongue and ethnic group will be in heaven -- not because they lived a good life or were sincere, but only because of God's gift of forgiveness and relationship made possible through Christ -- accessed by faith. Burke says, "So I do not know exactly how God deals with those who have never heard of Jesus but are humbly seeking God, but I'm confident that everyone has an opportunity to choose life with God (Genesis 12:1-3, John 1:7-12, Acts 14:16-17, 17:30-31)."
3. God cannot be unfair. God looks at the heart and will not unfairly judge a person because of lack of knowledge or cultural or religious conditioning. God will not send anyone to hell for these things -- it would have to be because they truly did not want God's leadership in their life. God will let them have their way in this case. Really, we shouldn't worry about God's fairness, since we can't accurately judge the heart of another, or play judge of the fairness of God. Jesus continually talked about how surprised people will be when all is said and done (Matthew 7:21-23)... we should take that into account. It may be that grace is much bigger than we've sometimes allowed ourselves to believe.
4. Finally, God wants people to find confidence assurance that they are right with him, so he sent Christ. As John wrote in Scripture, "I write these things to you who believe in the name of the Son of God so that you may know that you have eternal life (1 John 5:13)." God wants everyone to know with confidence that they can approach him without fear of condemnation because of what he's done through Christ. Scripture is clear -- that Jesus is the only provision God has made to justly forgive us for doing our will rather than his -- so if God sees the heart of a person who never heard of Jesus but is seeking to be forgiven and made right with God by faith, and God somehow does for her what he did for Abraham -- it is only through what Jesus did on the cross.
He closes with this thought: "Finally, the important question for you and me is not, 'What about other religions?' or 'How will God judge those who have never heard?' We really don't know. But I promise this, he cares more about them than you do. Christ gave his life for them; I doubt any of us care for those people that much, so rest assured that God will be more than fair if he didn't spare his own Son for their sake. The better question is 'What will I do with the claims of Jesus now that I've heard?' "
This is why we share our stories of finding grace... this is why we point people to Christ. In Christ we have confident assurance that we are right with God. Jesus did what we all demanded, that God show himself to us... and he revealed himself as God of the humble, broken, dependent soul. The more we speak with authority on what we do know -- what God has done in our broken lives -- and admit our limitedness and God's sovereignty on the things we don't -- who exactly is right with God and who isn't -- the more we remove barriers to people finding that same grace and truth in their own lives.
I'm learning to be perfectly okay admitting to someone that there are things that I don't know. I know enough about God -- through Scripture and through what he's done in my own life -- to trust him with the rest of it. I'm sure he's got it under control, and I'm at peace with that. I'd like to be a person who helps other people be at peace with it, too.
My job is done here. Wrestle a little. And shoot me a line with your thoughts if you're so inclined.
***
Okay, back into what will probably be the last little discussion on this book that is rocking my brain. Again, if you have any interest in helping people bridge the gap from the culture we live in to finding faith in Christ, I can't recommend it enough. You guys know my story well enough to know that I've fought cynicism where the church is concerned, but I am finding hope and encouragement within these pages -- like there might just be a home for outsiders, a place where people can show up as-is and be embraced, just as Jesus would embrace them.
As I mentioned before, the mother-load question that people in our generation often ask of us is this: "How can you say Jesus is the only way to God?" which has a question buried just below its surface: "How can it be fair that Jesus is the only way?" To ignore the question-beneath-the-question and simply enter into a debate with a person is risky at best, foolhardy at worst. You might win the argument, but come off so arrogant that you lose the person (A cocky, know-it-all Christian? Say it ain't so).
This question of what-happens-to-those-who-have-never-heard-of-Christ is one that I was never comfortable with, try as I might to come to terms with what I'd been taught. It was so black and white -- you've either said the sinner's prayer or you haven't, you're either saved or you're not saved when you get into that car accident on your way home from church.
Now, please hear me, I'm not saying that there are no absolutes. (I can hear people wondering if I've gone on some relativistic rampage). I've just been challenged in recent weeks to believe that God and God alone determines those absolutes, and that maybe Christian tradition hasn't had it right all along after all, when we look at the Bible.
The measure that I was always taught for a person's faith was whether or not they had said the sinner's prayer and asked Jesus into their heart. No prayer, no digs.
Here are some of the points from John Burke's sermon on God's fairness... I feel stupid for not considering these thoughts earlier, but here's to new perspective. To be truthful, I'm still processing, still wrapping my head around what this is saying. I'm not going to present it as gospel itself. But I do know that it's challenging me to take another look at the Christian tradition I grew up with. Some of the ideas that were presented as hard-and-fast Biblical truth -- ideas that I never questioned except quietly in the back of my mind -- well, they aren't holding up.
Ultimately, we don't know exactly how God will judge others. We don't know their hearts. But there are certain things we know and don't know from Scripture, according to Burke.
1. Scripture claims that God is the God of all people, and that all people know about God simply through nature. We also know when we're screwing it up -- our consciences tell us. So no one has an excuse for outright ignoring or rejecting God. God looks at the heart, not religion, of every person. (2 Chronicles 16:9; Romans 1:16-2:16).
2. There will be people in heaven made right with God, who never heard the name of Jesus. (Why did this thought never cross my mind? All the heroes of the faith who preceded Christ... are they S.O.L.?) Abraham, Noah, Rahab the prostitute, were all made right with God by faith, which Jesus acknowledged (Hebrews 11 & Romans 4:16-17, John 8:56). If Jesus is the only way, then God took the faith they placed in the knowledge revealed to them (recognizing their need for God's forgiveness and leadership), and God looked ahead to Jesus' death on the cross on their behalf, applying Jesus' sacrifice to them. (Again, it's not such a leap for me to believe that God can apply Jesus' sacrifice 2,000 years ago to my life. Can he not apply it to others as well?) Scripture tells us that people from every tribe, tongue and ethnic group will be in heaven -- not because they lived a good life or were sincere, but only because of God's gift of forgiveness and relationship made possible through Christ -- accessed by faith. Burke says, "So I do not know exactly how God deals with those who have never heard of Jesus but are humbly seeking God, but I'm confident that everyone has an opportunity to choose life with God (Genesis 12:1-3, John 1:7-12, Acts 14:16-17, 17:30-31)."
3. God cannot be unfair. God looks at the heart and will not unfairly judge a person because of lack of knowledge or cultural or religious conditioning. God will not send anyone to hell for these things -- it would have to be because they truly did not want God's leadership in their life. God will let them have their way in this case. Really, we shouldn't worry about God's fairness, since we can't accurately judge the heart of another, or play judge of the fairness of God. Jesus continually talked about how surprised people will be when all is said and done (Matthew 7:21-23)... we should take that into account. It may be that grace is much bigger than we've sometimes allowed ourselves to believe.
4. Finally, God wants people to find confidence assurance that they are right with him, so he sent Christ. As John wrote in Scripture, "I write these things to you who believe in the name of the Son of God so that you may know that you have eternal life (1 John 5:13)." God wants everyone to know with confidence that they can approach him without fear of condemnation because of what he's done through Christ. Scripture is clear -- that Jesus is the only provision God has made to justly forgive us for doing our will rather than his -- so if God sees the heart of a person who never heard of Jesus but is seeking to be forgiven and made right with God by faith, and God somehow does for her what he did for Abraham -- it is only through what Jesus did on the cross.
He closes with this thought: "Finally, the important question for you and me is not, 'What about other religions?' or 'How will God judge those who have never heard?' We really don't know. But I promise this, he cares more about them than you do. Christ gave his life for them; I doubt any of us care for those people that much, so rest assured that God will be more than fair if he didn't spare his own Son for their sake. The better question is 'What will I do with the claims of Jesus now that I've heard?' "
This is why we share our stories of finding grace... this is why we point people to Christ. In Christ we have confident assurance that we are right with God. Jesus did what we all demanded, that God show himself to us... and he revealed himself as God of the humble, broken, dependent soul. The more we speak with authority on what we do know -- what God has done in our broken lives -- and admit our limitedness and God's sovereignty on the things we don't -- who exactly is right with God and who isn't -- the more we remove barriers to people finding that same grace and truth in their own lives.
I'm learning to be perfectly okay admitting to someone that there are things that I don't know. I know enough about God -- through Scripture and through what he's done in my own life -- to trust him with the rest of it. I'm sure he's got it under control, and I'm at peace with that. I'd like to be a person who helps other people be at peace with it, too.
My job is done here. Wrestle a little. And shoot me a line with your thoughts if you're so inclined.
domingo, 26 de febrero de 2006
part 3: aren’t they all the same?
Chapter seven goes on to say that we must be able to help people understand the world's religions because "most everyone assumes they say the same thing. We have found it very important to diffuse the accusation of narrow-minded intolerance by giving credence to the similarities they do have and explaining the key differences. Some Christians act as if there is no trace of truth in the world's religions because they do not proclaim Christ, but this view is not biblical."
(Personal note: while reading this, I realized that before helping to educate others on the key similarities and differences in the world's religions... perhaps it would be good for me to understand them first. That's the beauty of this book. It is helping me to understand the gospel more clearly, even as it shows me ways to help others toward faith.)
Burke goes on to relay Paul's words to the men of Athens (Acts 17). Rather than zealously condemning these people for their many idols to Greek gods, he walked around among the idols, until he found a trace of truth. He affirmed them and said to them, "Men of Athens! I see that in every way you are very religious. For as I walked around and looked carefully at your objects of worship, I even found an altar with this inscription: TO AN UNKNOWN GOD. Now what you worship as something unknown, I am going to proclaim to you (Acts 17:23-24)."
Burke makes this point, which I think is worth trying to wrap our heads around: "God has been at work behind the scenes in all cultures, and we can find remains of truth everywhere to build bridges of faith in Christ."
Now, on to what the world's religions do say. Rather than butcher what I read, I'm going to provide an excerpt from one of his sermons on the subject. It's a long chunk, but I think you'll find it worth it:
Without a doubt, there are common moral truths taught in all the great religions of the world. Mortimer Adler, editor of the Encyclopedia Britannica, who was not a Christian, wrote a book called Truth in Religion. In it he states, "In spite of the possibility that all religious faiths in the world may be factually false, or that only one may be factually true, nevertheless ... there is a common core of sound morality and prescriptive truth in all or most of the major religions." And many Christians don't realize this even though it is revealed in the Bible. When people say, "Aren't they all basically saying the same thing?" I think this is what people mean. Scripture tells us that God has written his moral law on our hearts: "Even when Gentiles, who do not have God's written law, instinctively follow what the law says, they show in their hearts that they know right from wrong. They demonstrate that God's law is written within them, for their own consciences either accuse them or tell them they are doing what is right (Romans 2:14-15 NLT)." If this is true and there is a Moral Law Giver -- that's the most reasonable explanation of the similarities we see throughout every culture and religion. And so, in most all of the major world religions, we see evidence of this similar moral law that God has written in our hearts, which comes out in our religions. So in this aspect of declaring moral law, they appear to be saying the same truths. In fact, here's a summary of what they all basically say morally -- taken from moral laws given in ancient China, Babylon, Anglo Saxon culture, American Indian culture, Judaism, Christianity, ancient Egyptian, Greek, and Hindu culture:
Don't do harm to another human by what you do or say (the Golden rule)
Honor your father and mother
Be kind toward brothers and sisters, children, and the elderly
Do not have sex with another's spouse
Be honest in all your dealings (don't steal)
Do not lie
Care for those weaker or less fortunate
Dying to self is the path to life
Now, let's take a time-out and see what this teaches us. In just about every culture and major world religion since antiquity, we see this common moral law -- stated in various ways, but basically saying these things. So we all basically agree on what's right and wrong -- it's within us, and always has been. God's written it on our hearts. So let's look at how we've done. How well have we kept this common moral law of humanity? Let's make this participatory -- you just give me a thumbs-up if you think humanity has pretty much kept that one. Thumbs-down if there's evidence we haven't done so well.
"Don't do harm in word or deed." What do you think? People have been pretty darn nice, haven't they? We don't pick on each other on the playground. We don't gossip about others or think hateful thoughts or say hurtful words. We don't fight or do mean things or hold grudges or murder or start wars -- do we? What do you think -- thumbs up?... No? Watch the news -- we're still not doing so well...
So what do all of the world's religions teach all of us? We're royal screw-ups -- myself included, Jews and Christians, Muslims and Buddhists! The world's a mess! We all know the right things to do, they've been in our culture or religious tradition, they're in our hearts -- and yet, the history of humanity shows us that we fall short! We can't live up to what we know to be right. So in this sense, there is a universal truth communicated through all the world's major religions. Here it is: people have a problem, and it's affecting all of us. We need God's help! We cannot become who we know we were intended to be without God.
The Bible claims that the problem is that all people, in all religions, know enough about the one true Creator God and what is morally right or wrong, but we've all turned away from him, thinking we know better at some point -- in every religious tradition. Scripture says, "For since the creation of the world God's invisible qualities -- his eternal power and divine nature -- havve been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that are without excuse. For although they knew God, they neither glorified him as God nor gave thanks to him, but their thinking became futile and their foolish hearts were darkened (Romans 1:20-21)."
So does the Bible teach that all other religions are wholly wrong and Christians are right? NO! It teaches that every single person is wrong and God is right, and our problem is we all tend to turn from God and go our own way rather than humbly seeking God and his will. So all the religions may basically say the same thing about people and what's right and wrong. But they definitely do not say the same thing about God or the solution to the human problem. And if you think they are all saying the same thing about God, you just haven't read or studied the claims of the original founders of the world's religions. They don't say the same thing.
So the real problem is that we need God! We need his forgiveness and his help. And here's something that very few people realize. Not all the world's religions claim to be revealed from God. And you would think that if God exists and loves us, he'd care about our plight. And he would give us a solution -- a way out of our predicament. But because God is infinite, beyond our discovery -- our only hope is if God has chosen to reveal himself. In other words, God had to take the initiative to communicate. And if God has, the natural place to start looking would be the claims of the world's religions -- right? But if you read the sacred texts of the major world's religions and take them at face value -- most do not claim that God has revealed a solution to the human dilemma.
Mortimer Adler says, "Only three religions claim to have a supernatural foundation to be found in a sacred scripture that to be a divine revelation... among the other religions... only some claim to have logical and factual truth, but the truth they claim to have is of human, not divine, origin."
What Adler, who was not a Christian, discovered is that if you just read the sacred texts of all the world religions, only three even claim that the one, unique Creator God has revealed himself or his will directly: Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. Interestingly, all three speak of a Messiah. The other religions claim to be wise human solutions to the problems mankind faces, or they are devotional poems and songs and stories, but do not factually claim God has revealed himself. Now, if this upsets you and feels narrow-minded or judgmental toward other religions -- take it up with the founders of the religions -- but don't assume they say more than they really do."
Phew. That was a lot of typing, but I hope it's helpful. I welcome your thoughts. Please. Let's make this a discussion.
Tomorrow: the motherload question -- "What about people who have never heard of Jesus?" -- the question about God's fairness.
(Personal note: while reading this, I realized that before helping to educate others on the key similarities and differences in the world's religions... perhaps it would be good for me to understand them first. That's the beauty of this book. It is helping me to understand the gospel more clearly, even as it shows me ways to help others toward faith.)
Burke goes on to relay Paul's words to the men of Athens (Acts 17). Rather than zealously condemning these people for their many idols to Greek gods, he walked around among the idols, until he found a trace of truth. He affirmed them and said to them, "Men of Athens! I see that in every way you are very religious. For as I walked around and looked carefully at your objects of worship, I even found an altar with this inscription: TO AN UNKNOWN GOD. Now what you worship as something unknown, I am going to proclaim to you (Acts 17:23-24)."
Burke makes this point, which I think is worth trying to wrap our heads around: "God has been at work behind the scenes in all cultures, and we can find remains of truth everywhere to build bridges of faith in Christ."
Now, on to what the world's religions do say. Rather than butcher what I read, I'm going to provide an excerpt from one of his sermons on the subject. It's a long chunk, but I think you'll find it worth it:
Without a doubt, there are common moral truths taught in all the great religions of the world. Mortimer Adler, editor of the Encyclopedia Britannica, who was not a Christian, wrote a book called Truth in Religion. In it he states, "In spite of the possibility that all religious faiths in the world may be factually false, or that only one may be factually true, nevertheless ... there is a common core of sound morality and prescriptive truth in all or most of the major religions." And many Christians don't realize this even though it is revealed in the Bible. When people say, "Aren't they all basically saying the same thing?" I think this is what people mean. Scripture tells us that God has written his moral law on our hearts: "Even when Gentiles, who do not have God's written law, instinctively follow what the law says, they show in their hearts that they know right from wrong. They demonstrate that God's law is written within them, for their own consciences either accuse them or tell them they are doing what is right (Romans 2:14-15 NLT)." If this is true and there is a Moral Law Giver -- that's the most reasonable explanation of the similarities we see throughout every culture and religion. And so, in most all of the major world religions, we see evidence of this similar moral law that God has written in our hearts, which comes out in our religions. So in this aspect of declaring moral law, they appear to be saying the same truths. In fact, here's a summary of what they all basically say morally -- taken from moral laws given in ancient China, Babylon, Anglo Saxon culture, American Indian culture, Judaism, Christianity, ancient Egyptian, Greek, and Hindu culture:
Don't do harm to another human by what you do or say (the Golden rule)
Honor your father and mother
Be kind toward brothers and sisters, children, and the elderly
Do not have sex with another's spouse
Be honest in all your dealings (don't steal)
Do not lie
Care for those weaker or less fortunate
Dying to self is the path to life
Now, let's take a time-out and see what this teaches us. In just about every culture and major world religion since antiquity, we see this common moral law -- stated in various ways, but basically saying these things. So we all basically agree on what's right and wrong -- it's within us, and always has been. God's written it on our hearts. So let's look at how we've done. How well have we kept this common moral law of humanity? Let's make this participatory -- you just give me a thumbs-up if you think humanity has pretty much kept that one. Thumbs-down if there's evidence we haven't done so well.
"Don't do harm in word or deed." What do you think? People have been pretty darn nice, haven't they? We don't pick on each other on the playground. We don't gossip about others or think hateful thoughts or say hurtful words. We don't fight or do mean things or hold grudges or murder or start wars -- do we? What do you think -- thumbs up?... No? Watch the news -- we're still not doing so well...
So what do all of the world's religions teach all of us? We're royal screw-ups -- myself included, Jews and Christians, Muslims and Buddhists! The world's a mess! We all know the right things to do, they've been in our culture or religious tradition, they're in our hearts -- and yet, the history of humanity shows us that we fall short! We can't live up to what we know to be right. So in this sense, there is a universal truth communicated through all the world's major religions. Here it is: people have a problem, and it's affecting all of us. We need God's help! We cannot become who we know we were intended to be without God.
The Bible claims that the problem is that all people, in all religions, know enough about the one true Creator God and what is morally right or wrong, but we've all turned away from him, thinking we know better at some point -- in every religious tradition. Scripture says, "For since the creation of the world God's invisible qualities -- his eternal power and divine nature -- havve been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that are without excuse. For although they knew God, they neither glorified him as God nor gave thanks to him, but their thinking became futile and their foolish hearts were darkened (Romans 1:20-21)."
So does the Bible teach that all other religions are wholly wrong and Christians are right? NO! It teaches that every single person is wrong and God is right, and our problem is we all tend to turn from God and go our own way rather than humbly seeking God and his will. So all the religions may basically say the same thing about people and what's right and wrong. But they definitely do not say the same thing about God or the solution to the human problem. And if you think they are all saying the same thing about God, you just haven't read or studied the claims of the original founders of the world's religions. They don't say the same thing.
So the real problem is that we need God! We need his forgiveness and his help. And here's something that very few people realize. Not all the world's religions claim to be revealed from God. And you would think that if God exists and loves us, he'd care about our plight. And he would give us a solution -- a way out of our predicament. But because God is infinite, beyond our discovery -- our only hope is if God has chosen to reveal himself. In other words, God had to take the initiative to communicate. And if God has, the natural place to start looking would be the claims of the world's religions -- right? But if you read the sacred texts of the major world's religions and take them at face value -- most do not claim that God has revealed a solution to the human dilemma.
Mortimer Adler says, "Only three religions claim to have a supernatural foundation to be found in a sacred scripture that to be a divine revelation... among the other religions... only some claim to have logical and factual truth, but the truth they claim to have is of human, not divine, origin."
What Adler, who was not a Christian, discovered is that if you just read the sacred texts of all the world religions, only three even claim that the one, unique Creator God has revealed himself or his will directly: Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. Interestingly, all three speak of a Messiah. The other religions claim to be wise human solutions to the problems mankind faces, or they are devotional poems and songs and stories, but do not factually claim God has revealed himself. Now, if this upsets you and feels narrow-minded or judgmental toward other religions -- take it up with the founders of the religions -- but don't assume they say more than they really do."
Phew. That was a lot of typing, but I hope it's helpful. I welcome your thoughts. Please. Let's make this a discussion.
Tomorrow: the motherload question -- "What about people who have never heard of Jesus?" -- the question about God's fairness.
sábado, 25 de febrero de 2006
NPPA, part 2: Questions of Tolerance
Ah, Eggos in the toaster. I love Saturday mornings.
So, jumping back into No Perfect People Allowed. It was recommended that I begin with Chapter 7, and that's exactly what I did.
It spoke. Spoke loud. What follows are some of the thoughts John Burke explained, and my reactions to them. It may be somewhat lengthy, but that's okay, you're used to that, right?
This chapter deals with what it calls a "tolerance litmus test." Meaning, people in our culture who are seeking spiritual truth will often ask certain questions to ascertain whether we are accepting or intolerant (most probably lean more toward the latter, based on what they've seen, and I can't say that I blame them). The actual questions are genuine curiosities in and of themselves, but there are often questions beneath the questions that are important for the faith community to grasp. Recognizing and being able to respond openly and honestly to these deeper, unspoken questions is absolutely necessary if we are going to remove barriers that stand in the way of people embracing faith.
The question he addresses in Chapter 7 is this: "What about other religions?"
The questions beneath it probably sound something like this (taken from the story that opens the chapter): " just so narrow minded and arrogant. I mean, who are we to say one group or culture is right or wrong? To say Native American Indians, for instance, were wrong in all their beliefs because they knew nothing about Jesus? That's ridiculous." "Every culture has it's own customs, beliefs, and values that must be respected. I see the biggest problem with religion is it divides people and creates hostility. It seems all religions are basically saying the same thing, so why argue and fight about who is right or wrong?..."
The questions deal a whole heck of a lot with questions of open-mindedness (a HUGE value in our generation), arrogance (a huge turn-off), and questions of God's fairness (How could God send someone to hell simply because they've never heard about Jesus?).
I can't say these same questions never crossed my mind myself, and I was raised in church. None of the answers ever satisfied. And the reigning attitudes did little to foster open-mindedness, much less humility. In my childhood church, other denominations of Christianity couldn't escape ridicule (I'm so sorry, Baptists). With that kind of judgmental attitude toward other Christians who, despite some differences in the small points of theology, were the same in all the essentials, it should come as no surprise that other religions were held in absolute contempt. Or worse, they were viewed with a kind of condescending pity.
Were these well-meaning Christian people? Absolutely. Good-hearted, God-loving folks? For sure. Doing a whole hell of a lot of damage, for all their good intentions? Don't even get me started.
We are ten kinds of evil when we let Jesus be anything but completely central. Being good and being like Jesus are so wholly different. Being good doesn't necessarily make you like Jesus. Being good, you can still be arrogant, uncaring, judgmental, and harsh; we saw this with the Pharisees in the New Testament, and we also saw that Jesus reserved his severest anger for them. In relationship with Jesus, as we become like him, we begin to care about the things he does -- humility, grace, sacrificial love, forgiveness, servanthood -- just to name a few. We begin to care about the people he cares for -- the outsiders, the poor, the broken, the lonely, the sick, the unlovely, the unloved, the imperfect. It's in this way that he makes us good... good, but in the right way -- grace and truth in equal balance.
Okay, enough personal commentary for the moment. Here's what he said (I can't do it all justice here, so go ahead and read the book, for Pete's sake, but in order to stretch some brains, here we go):
When people in our generation hear Christians say that Jesus is the only way, what they hear us saying is "We're right and everyone else is wrong because our way is always right." They hear that and think of the same pride and arrogance that led Christians in the Middle Ages to slaughter those of other religions and ethnicities. This attitude of religious superiority doesn't fly with a culture that has learned to value diversity of belief.
Burke says, "The way to address these concerns is head-on. I'll say flat-out in a message, 'One of the biggest problems people have with Christianity, I find, is this idea that Jesus is the way to be made right with God. It feels so narrow, so intolerant, so religiously snobbish -- kind of a "we're-right-because-you're wrong" kindergarten mentality.' Anticipating and openly voicing this question-beneath-the-question often diffuses people's resistance to even listen. This allows them to relate to you and actually want to hear your answer. When you affirm where tolerance is needed -- you can also show its natural limits."
"Tolerance is a good thing when it comes to differences in people, tastes, or preferences. We should be tolerant of others' opinions and even beliefs that differ from our own. But this doesn't mean we have to agree that everything the other person thinks is true. You can be tolerant and disagree." Burke goes on to use the example of preference (one person liking a red car and another liking a black car) vs. reliability (one person insisting on a Ford Pinto, which Ford discontinued because they blow up, while the other person chooses a Honda).
"The question is -- where does religious thought fit? Is saying 'I believe Muhammad' or 'I believe in Jesus' the same as saying 'I like red' or 'I like black'? Or is it more like saying 'I believe Pintos are reliable' or 'I believe Hondas are reliable'? That's where the real question lies. My experience tells me that most people these days think religious belief is more like a preference thing -- red or black -- whichever makes you happy. And I will acknowledge that they are right -- it is just preference, if God has not revealed himself to our finite, fallible world. But what if God took the initiative to show up? That would take away a lot of our subjective opinion."
Burke says that we must understand that when asked about other religions, the underlying question is really "Do you always think you're right and everyone else is wrong?" This is a litmus test for arrogance, and the only way to pass is to show a humility and willingness to learn, "remembering that all truth is God's truth, and truth has nothing to fear. I have found when leaders humbly acknowledge that we don't know everything, and that religious arrogance has caused problems in the past, it helps people drop their first defense. As we acknowledge the good aspects of tolerance, yet differentiate tolerance from agreement, we can better communicate the right heart."
Once it is clear that we are more about caring about people than about "being right," we can move forward to the next question, which many in our world assume to be truth: "Don't all religions basically say the same thing?"
Til tomorrow, hopefully. :)
So, jumping back into No Perfect People Allowed. It was recommended that I begin with Chapter 7, and that's exactly what I did.
It spoke. Spoke loud. What follows are some of the thoughts John Burke explained, and my reactions to them. It may be somewhat lengthy, but that's okay, you're used to that, right?
This chapter deals with what it calls a "tolerance litmus test." Meaning, people in our culture who are seeking spiritual truth will often ask certain questions to ascertain whether we are accepting or intolerant (most probably lean more toward the latter, based on what they've seen, and I can't say that I blame them). The actual questions are genuine curiosities in and of themselves, but there are often questions beneath the questions that are important for the faith community to grasp. Recognizing and being able to respond openly and honestly to these deeper, unspoken questions is absolutely necessary if we are going to remove barriers that stand in the way of people embracing faith.
The question he addresses in Chapter 7 is this: "What about other religions?"
The questions beneath it probably sound something like this (taken from the story that opens the chapter): " just so narrow minded and arrogant. I mean, who are we to say one group or culture is right or wrong? To say Native American Indians, for instance, were wrong in all their beliefs because they knew nothing about Jesus? That's ridiculous." "Every culture has it's own customs, beliefs, and values that must be respected. I see the biggest problem with religion is it divides people and creates hostility. It seems all religions are basically saying the same thing, so why argue and fight about who is right or wrong?..."
The questions deal a whole heck of a lot with questions of open-mindedness (a HUGE value in our generation), arrogance (a huge turn-off), and questions of God's fairness (How could God send someone to hell simply because they've never heard about Jesus?).
I can't say these same questions never crossed my mind myself, and I was raised in church. None of the answers ever satisfied. And the reigning attitudes did little to foster open-mindedness, much less humility. In my childhood church, other denominations of Christianity couldn't escape ridicule (I'm so sorry, Baptists). With that kind of judgmental attitude toward other Christians who, despite some differences in the small points of theology, were the same in all the essentials, it should come as no surprise that other religions were held in absolute contempt. Or worse, they were viewed with a kind of condescending pity.
Were these well-meaning Christian people? Absolutely. Good-hearted, God-loving folks? For sure. Doing a whole hell of a lot of damage, for all their good intentions? Don't even get me started.
We are ten kinds of evil when we let Jesus be anything but completely central. Being good and being like Jesus are so wholly different. Being good doesn't necessarily make you like Jesus. Being good, you can still be arrogant, uncaring, judgmental, and harsh; we saw this with the Pharisees in the New Testament, and we also saw that Jesus reserved his severest anger for them. In relationship with Jesus, as we become like him, we begin to care about the things he does -- humility, grace, sacrificial love, forgiveness, servanthood -- just to name a few. We begin to care about the people he cares for -- the outsiders, the poor, the broken, the lonely, the sick, the unlovely, the unloved, the imperfect. It's in this way that he makes us good... good, but in the right way -- grace and truth in equal balance.
Okay, enough personal commentary for the moment. Here's what he said (I can't do it all justice here, so go ahead and read the book, for Pete's sake, but in order to stretch some brains, here we go):
When people in our generation hear Christians say that Jesus is the only way, what they hear us saying is "We're right and everyone else is wrong because our way is always right." They hear that and think of the same pride and arrogance that led Christians in the Middle Ages to slaughter those of other religions and ethnicities. This attitude of religious superiority doesn't fly with a culture that has learned to value diversity of belief.
Burke says, "The way to address these concerns is head-on. I'll say flat-out in a message, 'One of the biggest problems people have with Christianity, I find, is this idea that Jesus is the way to be made right with God. It feels so narrow, so intolerant, so religiously snobbish -- kind of a "we're-right-because-you're wrong" kindergarten mentality.' Anticipating and openly voicing this question-beneath-the-question often diffuses people's resistance to even listen. This allows them to relate to you and actually want to hear your answer. When you affirm where tolerance is needed -- you can also show its natural limits."
"Tolerance is a good thing when it comes to differences in people, tastes, or preferences. We should be tolerant of others' opinions and even beliefs that differ from our own. But this doesn't mean we have to agree that everything the other person thinks is true. You can be tolerant and disagree." Burke goes on to use the example of preference (one person liking a red car and another liking a black car) vs. reliability (one person insisting on a Ford Pinto, which Ford discontinued because they blow up, while the other person chooses a Honda).
"The question is -- where does religious thought fit? Is saying 'I believe Muhammad' or 'I believe in Jesus' the same as saying 'I like red' or 'I like black'? Or is it more like saying 'I believe Pintos are reliable' or 'I believe Hondas are reliable'? That's where the real question lies. My experience tells me that most people these days think religious belief is more like a preference thing -- red or black -- whichever makes you happy. And I will acknowledge that they are right -- it is just preference, if God has not revealed himself to our finite, fallible world. But what if God took the initiative to show up? That would take away a lot of our subjective opinion."
Burke says that we must understand that when asked about other religions, the underlying question is really "Do you always think you're right and everyone else is wrong?" This is a litmus test for arrogance, and the only way to pass is to show a humility and willingness to learn, "remembering that all truth is God's truth, and truth has nothing to fear. I have found when leaders humbly acknowledge that we don't know everything, and that religious arrogance has caused problems in the past, it helps people drop their first defense. As we acknowledge the good aspects of tolerance, yet differentiate tolerance from agreement, we can better communicate the right heart."
Once it is clear that we are more about caring about people than about "being right," we can move forward to the next question, which many in our world assume to be truth: "Don't all religions basically say the same thing?"
Til tomorrow, hopefully. :)
domingo, 19 de febrero de 2006
overheard in new york
Thanks to Chelsie, I have found a new site that makes me laugh:
overheardinnewyork.com.
This one made me gut laugh, sitting here all by my lonesome in the Little Blue House:
Girl #1: I just don't think I'm his type. He's very intellectual.
Girl #2: What do you mean?
Girl #1: He's all "yada yada yada" and I'm very "What's your favorite Starburst?"
--31st & Park
--overheard by Clara
overheardinnewyork.com.
This one made me gut laugh, sitting here all by my lonesome in the Little Blue House:
Girl #1: I just don't think I'm his type. He's very intellectual.
Girl #2: What do you mean?
Girl #1: He's all "yada yada yada" and I'm very "What's your favorite Starburst?"
--31st & Park
--overheard by Clara
no perfect people allowed, part 1
Today is the perfect day for soup.
For the past week or so, it has been uncharacteristically cold here. The technical term we Washingtonians use for this kind of weather is Butt Cold. Or, to be more accurate, Butt Cold with a wind chill factor of Super Butt Cold. Since the sun has been shining bright and I can see my mountains, I don't mind so much, but yes, my mmm-mmm good Tomato soup is hittin' the spot.
Plus, I'm a little off-kilter due to attacking an antique glass doorknob with my face yesterday. I reached down to grab something off the bathroom floor yesterday and -- WHOMP! Instant goose-egg just above my right eye. Instant weekend-long headache. Sweeeet.
So yeah. Enjoying the soup. (Glad I shared that. I'd hate to take up space on the internet discussing something arbitrary and unimportant).
Ow. Scratch that. Just burned my tastebuds off.
I am so cool.
Anyway, on to what I actually wanted to talk about. I am reading a fantastic book that I am forcing on everyone I can get to listen to a passage or two. Last book that I loved in this way was Bono's spoken biography -- I highly recommend it. This new one is called No Perfect People Allowed (John Burke), and it is resonating with me big-time.
Before I jump into the specifics, let me share a bit of history. If you've been reading here for any length of time, you know that while I was raised in the church, I didn't really have a good understanding of grace until much later on in the process, and that I'm right now in the midst of re-learning what it means to be a follower of Christ. This means unlearning some things and learning others for the first time.
(Geez. Took me long enough to be able to condense that into a few sentences. Score!)
I cannot emphasize enough that I often feel like a new Christian all over again. To be honest, I hope I never lose this sense of newness with regards to my faith. There are things I am capable of understanding now, at twenty-five, that I obviously couldn't fully grasp at the age of four, when I first asked Jesus to lead my life. As I get older, I don't expect this pattern to change. If I ever get married, if I am ever a Mommy (or if I end up the cutest old maid/auntie there ever was, perhaps), there are new facets of my faith that will emerge, and I never want to be so sure of having figured it all out that I'm closed off to a new, deeper understanding of Jesus and his work in me.
That said, there are new questions that have arisen this time around. Not so much in the realm of Is God real? or Are the claims of Christianity true? -- I've seen too much in my life to think that everything happens by chance and accident, and while the actions of Christians don't make too much sense to me sometimes, the claims and actions of Christ ring true (i.e., turning religious rulekeeping on its head, exposing the inner nastiness of the religious elite, loving and healing those who had always been excluded -- the tax collectors and the prostitutes and the poor and the sick and the racially different)... No, my questions were more along the lines of If God is real, and the claims of Christ are true, then what about ________?
That blank represents many unanswered questions for me. Not that no one ever attempted to answer them. It's just that the pat answers I received -- and often accepted -- when I was younger no longer satisfied me. I had been forced to venture outside the Christian subculture (and for this reason I thank God that I flunked out of Bible college); I'd seen way too much that didn't fit in my nice, neatly packaged Christian paradigm (and for this reason I thank God that he allowed me to go to hippie-ville Western and grow friendships with people whose world-views were decidedly different than my own).
The world was no longer flat, so to speak.
And while Jesus remained real to me as ever, so did all those blanks.
Among them, here are a few:
What about other religions? What about people who have never heard about Jesus? Yeah, I got lucky and was raised in a home where I was taught about Jesus -- but what if I'd grown up in Saudi Arabia or something? What then?
Why are Christians known more for being arrogant, judgmental and hypocritical than for being loving and accepting, as Jesus was? (How in the hell did Pat Robertson install himself as our spokesman)?
If Christ died for all, why are Christians so ugly toward certain groups of people, most specifically the gay community? Why are Christians so unconcerned for the poor and the sick?
Is it possible to be a Christian and not vote Republican? (snicker)
This time around, I found myself asking the same questions that came up in different arenas all throughout my school years. Questions in my debate class. Questions in World History. Questions in Philosophy of Religion. Questions in Red Square or at Starbucks or in my dorm room -- questions that were asked of me. I shudder when I think about what my answers may have been... when I consider that I may have simply repeated those same trite, unfeeling, unsatisfying answers to seekers before I'd ever really been a seeker myself. I claimed certainty and authority where I had none. God forgive me.
Tomorrow, time permitting, I want to deal with the first question in my little list. The answer I'd been taught when I was younger was of the Too bad, so sad variety: God is gracious, God loves the whole world, but God is also holy, and the only way to be made right with him is through Jesus. If you grew up in the Middle East or on some deserted island where they haven't heard of Jesus -- if your time's up and you haven't said the magic words, it's a real bummer -- but you're screwed. Needless to say, this answer wasn't super palatable. I used to think that it wasn't palatable because I wasn't strong enough in my faith. Now I realize it wasn't palatable because it shouldn't be -- not to anyone with a heart and any remote understanding of God's own.
I am happy to have found in this book the most thoughtful, fearless, scriptural treatment of this question that I have ever come across. It doesn't claim to be THE answer to the question, but it does address what we know from scripture -- and what we don't know. I'm still processing it, but so far, so good.
Finally.
Til tomorrow then.
For the past week or so, it has been uncharacteristically cold here. The technical term we Washingtonians use for this kind of weather is Butt Cold. Or, to be more accurate, Butt Cold with a wind chill factor of Super Butt Cold. Since the sun has been shining bright and I can see my mountains, I don't mind so much, but yes, my mmm-mmm good Tomato soup is hittin' the spot.
Plus, I'm a little off-kilter due to attacking an antique glass doorknob with my face yesterday. I reached down to grab something off the bathroom floor yesterday and -- WHOMP! Instant goose-egg just above my right eye. Instant weekend-long headache. Sweeeet.
So yeah. Enjoying the soup. (Glad I shared that. I'd hate to take up space on the internet discussing something arbitrary and unimportant).
Ow. Scratch that. Just burned my tastebuds off.
I am so cool.
Anyway, on to what I actually wanted to talk about. I am reading a fantastic book that I am forcing on everyone I can get to listen to a passage or two. Last book that I loved in this way was Bono's spoken biography -- I highly recommend it. This new one is called No Perfect People Allowed (John Burke), and it is resonating with me big-time.
Before I jump into the specifics, let me share a bit of history. If you've been reading here for any length of time, you know that while I was raised in the church, I didn't really have a good understanding of grace until much later on in the process, and that I'm right now in the midst of re-learning what it means to be a follower of Christ. This means unlearning some things and learning others for the first time.
(Geez. Took me long enough to be able to condense that into a few sentences. Score!)
I cannot emphasize enough that I often feel like a new Christian all over again. To be honest, I hope I never lose this sense of newness with regards to my faith. There are things I am capable of understanding now, at twenty-five, that I obviously couldn't fully grasp at the age of four, when I first asked Jesus to lead my life. As I get older, I don't expect this pattern to change. If I ever get married, if I am ever a Mommy (or if I end up the cutest old maid/auntie there ever was, perhaps), there are new facets of my faith that will emerge, and I never want to be so sure of having figured it all out that I'm closed off to a new, deeper understanding of Jesus and his work in me.
That said, there are new questions that have arisen this time around. Not so much in the realm of Is God real? or Are the claims of Christianity true? -- I've seen too much in my life to think that everything happens by chance and accident, and while the actions of Christians don't make too much sense to me sometimes, the claims and actions of Christ ring true (i.e., turning religious rulekeeping on its head, exposing the inner nastiness of the religious elite, loving and healing those who had always been excluded -- the tax collectors and the prostitutes and the poor and the sick and the racially different)... No, my questions were more along the lines of If God is real, and the claims of Christ are true, then what about ________?
That blank represents many unanswered questions for me. Not that no one ever attempted to answer them. It's just that the pat answers I received -- and often accepted -- when I was younger no longer satisfied me. I had been forced to venture outside the Christian subculture (and for this reason I thank God that I flunked out of Bible college); I'd seen way too much that didn't fit in my nice, neatly packaged Christian paradigm (and for this reason I thank God that he allowed me to go to hippie-ville Western and grow friendships with people whose world-views were decidedly different than my own).
The world was no longer flat, so to speak.
And while Jesus remained real to me as ever, so did all those blanks.
Among them, here are a few:
What about other religions? What about people who have never heard about Jesus? Yeah, I got lucky and was raised in a home where I was taught about Jesus -- but what if I'd grown up in Saudi Arabia or something? What then?
Why are Christians known more for being arrogant, judgmental and hypocritical than for being loving and accepting, as Jesus was? (How in the hell did Pat Robertson install himself as our spokesman)?
If Christ died for all, why are Christians so ugly toward certain groups of people, most specifically the gay community? Why are Christians so unconcerned for the poor and the sick?
Is it possible to be a Christian and not vote Republican? (snicker)
This time around, I found myself asking the same questions that came up in different arenas all throughout my school years. Questions in my debate class. Questions in World History. Questions in Philosophy of Religion. Questions in Red Square or at Starbucks or in my dorm room -- questions that were asked of me. I shudder when I think about what my answers may have been... when I consider that I may have simply repeated those same trite, unfeeling, unsatisfying answers to seekers before I'd ever really been a seeker myself. I claimed certainty and authority where I had none. God forgive me.
Tomorrow, time permitting, I want to deal with the first question in my little list. The answer I'd been taught when I was younger was of the Too bad, so sad variety: God is gracious, God loves the whole world, but God is also holy, and the only way to be made right with him is through Jesus. If you grew up in the Middle East or on some deserted island where they haven't heard of Jesus -- if your time's up and you haven't said the magic words, it's a real bummer -- but you're screwed. Needless to say, this answer wasn't super palatable. I used to think that it wasn't palatable because I wasn't strong enough in my faith. Now I realize it wasn't palatable because it shouldn't be -- not to anyone with a heart and any remote understanding of God's own.
I am happy to have found in this book the most thoughtful, fearless, scriptural treatment of this question that I have ever come across. It doesn't claim to be THE answer to the question, but it does address what we know from scripture -- and what we don't know. I'm still processing it, but so far, so good.
Finally.
Til tomorrow then.
sábado, 18 de febrero de 2006
conversations
I had a good cup of coffee the other day with one of my all-time favorite people. When I stop to think about it, it's such a funny friendship (but life's great friendships are, more often than not, odd pairings). I can only credit God's sense of humor with how we ended up friends. He is, I suspect (although I can never fully know for sure, since he refuses to reveal his biological age, only his mental one), slightly older than my dad. Me, I'm twenty-five, but have always been a bit of an old soul, and have never easily fit into my own demographic. We have a rare brand of kindredness -- a mutual love of flip-flops, coffee, discussions about faith and culture, church survival, and all things Bono. Somehow, it all evens out, and for about a year now we've met every so often to get caffeinated and throw words and thoughts around. (We mark seasons of life by which particular coffee shop we were in when we had such-and-such a conversation, e.g. "Oh yeah, that was back when we were meeting at Barnes and Noble. Has it really only been six months since we were praying for that job?").
I don't think it's a coincidence at all that God blessed me with this friendship during the year my faith was tested more than any other.
Often, you don't realize the value of a friendship until life's pathways have drawn you to separate circumstances and locales, and you suddenly realize with a pang of loss that you had it good. This is one of those rare occurrences where I'm already aware of this friendship's value and impact -- that this particular mentor has already left a lifelong mark. If I ever have some measure of success in this life -- outside of my family, Dan will be a big part of the answer to why.
There have been brief moments in my life -- aha! moments -- where, all of a sudden, I feel like I am with my own kind. Most of the time, those moments have been shared with people I've never met: Buechner. Yancey. Lamott. (I think Donald Miller showed up at one point, even if he was late to the party). Musically, I found that kinship in Nichole Nordeman. It was like coming face to face with my own thoughts in another person (who could articulate them far better than I). In spite of learning to make friends, in spite of having a great family who loved me, I have more often than not felt an underlying loneliness all of my life. Hard to explain, but it didn't matter a bit if I was surrounded by people or completely on my own. I felt the loneliness of not belonging, of not fitting in. I think it all started my junior year of college, but when I first began to read these particular words and hear these particular songs -- for the first time, I was not alone. These words were no substitutes for a face and a voice, but they were a beautiful glimpse.
I have since found a precious few people who are the face and the voice with the words, Dan being one of them, and I cannot help but walk away from each hour's worth of conversation with my heart full of the joy that is being known and understood (and, perhaps, loved even so). Yesterday's conversation was just one more among many.
This past year I have been at turns cynical, bitter, angry, stand-offish, unreliable, and more than a little feisty, at least, as it relates to church world and church leaders. Refusing to let me go, God had mercy and grace on me, and sent a friend who listened, consoled, asked questions, and listened some more, even when my answers were frustrated and ugly and not well packaged.
God double-crossed me by sending me a pastor in friend's clothing. He sent all these qualities in the very type of person I'd learned not to trust: a ministry-type. A pastor. He sent me Jesus in bleach blonde hair and surfer clothes, someone who could frankly not give a rip about the title of Pastor -- being much more concerned with that of Friend. Exactly what I needed.
I've never been more grateful.
--grasshopper
I don't think it's a coincidence at all that God blessed me with this friendship during the year my faith was tested more than any other.
Often, you don't realize the value of a friendship until life's pathways have drawn you to separate circumstances and locales, and you suddenly realize with a pang of loss that you had it good. This is one of those rare occurrences where I'm already aware of this friendship's value and impact -- that this particular mentor has already left a lifelong mark. If I ever have some measure of success in this life -- outside of my family, Dan will be a big part of the answer to why.
There have been brief moments in my life -- aha! moments -- where, all of a sudden, I feel like I am with my own kind. Most of the time, those moments have been shared with people I've never met: Buechner. Yancey. Lamott. (I think Donald Miller showed up at one point, even if he was late to the party). Musically, I found that kinship in Nichole Nordeman. It was like coming face to face with my own thoughts in another person (who could articulate them far better than I). In spite of learning to make friends, in spite of having a great family who loved me, I have more often than not felt an underlying loneliness all of my life. Hard to explain, but it didn't matter a bit if I was surrounded by people or completely on my own. I felt the loneliness of not belonging, of not fitting in. I think it all started my junior year of college, but when I first began to read these particular words and hear these particular songs -- for the first time, I was not alone. These words were no substitutes for a face and a voice, but they were a beautiful glimpse.
I have since found a precious few people who are the face and the voice with the words, Dan being one of them, and I cannot help but walk away from each hour's worth of conversation with my heart full of the joy that is being known and understood (and, perhaps, loved even so). Yesterday's conversation was just one more among many.
This past year I have been at turns cynical, bitter, angry, stand-offish, unreliable, and more than a little feisty, at least, as it relates to church world and church leaders. Refusing to let me go, God had mercy and grace on me, and sent a friend who listened, consoled, asked questions, and listened some more, even when my answers were frustrated and ugly and not well packaged.
God double-crossed me by sending me a pastor in friend's clothing. He sent all these qualities in the very type of person I'd learned not to trust: a ministry-type. A pastor. He sent me Jesus in bleach blonde hair and surfer clothes, someone who could frankly not give a rip about the title of Pastor -- being much more concerned with that of Friend. Exactly what I needed.
I've never been more grateful.
--grasshopper
viernes, 17 de febrero de 2006
miércoles, 15 de febrero de 2006
I’m not dead yet… I feel happy…
I wanted to write and let you all know that I am, indeed, still alive.
I was kidnapped by my job for the last several weeks, but I have been released back into the daylight, have sufficiently de-stressed thanks to my yoga class, and hope to be writing up a storm for the next several weeks. So check back soon.
I also hope to update my photo. My hair's not brown anymore -- I've been a blondie again for several weeks, and it's a little odd seeing my evil twin up there in the corner.
Keep your fingers crossed for me -- I hope to find out this week if I'll be able to go down to Mississippi in April to work with people still homeless after Katrina. This has really been on my heart and I'm asking God to open this door if He sees fit.
In other news, I haven't stopped being amused by the Chuck Norris Fever sweeping the nation (or at least, the internet). My newest favorite:
When the Boogey Man goes to bed, he checks his closet for Chuck Norris.
***
Dan -- dear friend, pastor, mentor and all-around pain in the ass sometimes (he simply refuses to let my sorry self fall off the radar) -- and I have been dialoguing at length about what we dream about when it comes to "church." What that community looks like, what it values, who it reaches out and embraces, how it embraces them, how it points people to Jesus. We're meeting for coffee tomorrow -- email conversations just don't cut it when you're talking about these kinds of things.
Normally after these kindred-spirit conversations, my heart and brain are full and I let go of my cynicism for a while and dream again, like I used to. I am looking forward to it. You might hear some ramblings about this over the next few weeks or so.
In general, I'll do my best to slow down and knit some words together. I sense that God is quietly at work in me even in this crazy season, and I don't want to continue to let frenetic activity keep me from paying attention, or from being grateful.
Busy or not, I only get once. There have been sunsets I've missed too often; far too many whispers of grace I've been too distracted to hear. Not good. Luckily, I'm a huge wuss and my heart won't let me go too long or too far without the alarms going off and reminding me that I'm not all that strong on my own.
No more. God, I'm watching. And listening. And very, very hungry.
I was kidnapped by my job for the last several weeks, but I have been released back into the daylight, have sufficiently de-stressed thanks to my yoga class, and hope to be writing up a storm for the next several weeks. So check back soon.
I also hope to update my photo. My hair's not brown anymore -- I've been a blondie again for several weeks, and it's a little odd seeing my evil twin up there in the corner.
Keep your fingers crossed for me -- I hope to find out this week if I'll be able to go down to Mississippi in April to work with people still homeless after Katrina. This has really been on my heart and I'm asking God to open this door if He sees fit.
In other news, I haven't stopped being amused by the Chuck Norris Fever sweeping the nation (or at least, the internet). My newest favorite:
When the Boogey Man goes to bed, he checks his closet for Chuck Norris.
***
Dan -- dear friend, pastor, mentor and all-around pain in the ass sometimes (he simply refuses to let my sorry self fall off the radar) -- and I have been dialoguing at length about what we dream about when it comes to "church." What that community looks like, what it values, who it reaches out and embraces, how it embraces them, how it points people to Jesus. We're meeting for coffee tomorrow -- email conversations just don't cut it when you're talking about these kinds of things.
Normally after these kindred-spirit conversations, my heart and brain are full and I let go of my cynicism for a while and dream again, like I used to. I am looking forward to it. You might hear some ramblings about this over the next few weeks or so.
In general, I'll do my best to slow down and knit some words together. I sense that God is quietly at work in me even in this crazy season, and I don't want to continue to let frenetic activity keep me from paying attention, or from being grateful.
Busy or not, I only get once. There have been sunsets I've missed too often; far too many whispers of grace I've been too distracted to hear. Not good. Luckily, I'm a huge wuss and my heart won't let me go too long or too far without the alarms going off and reminding me that I'm not all that strong on my own.
No more. God, I'm watching. And listening. And very, very hungry.
martes, 31 de enero de 2006
two least likely questions
So we're in meetings with my biggest client yesterday, going over results for the year, and looking at new strategies for the coming one.
I am the most junior person in the room. For the most part, I am happily taking notes and munching alternately on snickerdoodles and cheese n' crackers. I've been nervous all day leading up to the meeting, and am happy to finally put faces on some of the folks I've been working with for about five months.
Then, the president of the organization, a man I've never met before but one I like intuitively, asks this question: "What do you think of this whole Bill Gates / Bone-oh thing? What's happening there?"
One of the guys from my company at the table had a quick comment, but the president saw the interest sparking on my face. He said, "I want to hear from you. What's this thing all about?"
All of a sudden, I have something to say. I sound off about the One campaign, about its objectives, about the G8 summit last year, about how much of my generation genuinely cares about global poverty and disease, dashing many of the predictions that we'd be narcissistic and apathetic about world issues. That I think the response goes deeper than it being the currently-en-vogue thing to do because Bono's speaking up and Brad Pitt went to Africa. The world is connected in a way it never was before. We have access to information in ways we never did before... we see suffering with our own eyes.
I talk about how much of the word for One spread through email, through friends telling friends, and how some of it was as simple as wearing a bracelet. How people really will give to something they believe in, but only if they hear about it, only if you find a way to reach them on their turf. For folks around my age, the web is most often our medium, and if a group can figure out a way to tap that, they're golden.
I spoke clearly, but could feel myself turning beet red at suddenly having to throw my own two cents out there. There is something about a board room full of people older than you and much smarter than you that is quite intimidating. All of a sudden the room felt like the temp was around 88 degrees.
His next question, I'm not kidding: "Do you blog?" This discussion lasted about a half hour.
I never ever thought that my admiration/slight obsession with Bono and his work (in addition to his music) and my passion for blogging, of all things, would make me an expert voice in the room, even for a few minutes.
It was wicked fun.
On a wholly other note, I am really excited. There is a potential opportunity for me to be able to travel with a group my client is sending down to Bay St. Louis, Mississippi, one of the hardest-hit areas in the wake of Katrina (CityTeam has been serving there since right after the storm, and has remained there and in another hard-hit location this entire time, staying long after the Red Cross pulled up stakes and moved on. Check out their site, the pics from down there are amazing). Things are still awful down there, and there is still a huge need for relief work. I'd go in April. They'll take me, I'd just have to figure out the whole time-off-work thing. It just might happen, and the thought of being able to actually see these faces and the devastation around them, and actually being able to tangibly serve these people and minister to them... man. It gets my heart beating pretty quick. (You want to talk about bloggable experiences...) Please pray with me that God will open this door.
Okay, off to another day of meetings. It stormed here all night long and the wind blowing through the huge trees around my place kept me awake... hopefully I'll be able to mask the yawns without being too terribly obvious.
PS! I probably won't have to work til 9 pm tonight! Score!
Enjoy the day.
I am the most junior person in the room. For the most part, I am happily taking notes and munching alternately on snickerdoodles and cheese n' crackers. I've been nervous all day leading up to the meeting, and am happy to finally put faces on some of the folks I've been working with for about five months.
Then, the president of the organization, a man I've never met before but one I like intuitively, asks this question: "What do you think of this whole Bill Gates / Bone-oh thing? What's happening there?"
One of the guys from my company at the table had a quick comment, but the president saw the interest sparking on my face. He said, "I want to hear from you. What's this thing all about?"
All of a sudden, I have something to say. I sound off about the One campaign, about its objectives, about the G8 summit last year, about how much of my generation genuinely cares about global poverty and disease, dashing many of the predictions that we'd be narcissistic and apathetic about world issues. That I think the response goes deeper than it being the currently-en-vogue thing to do because Bono's speaking up and Brad Pitt went to Africa. The world is connected in a way it never was before. We have access to information in ways we never did before... we see suffering with our own eyes.
I talk about how much of the word for One spread through email, through friends telling friends, and how some of it was as simple as wearing a bracelet. How people really will give to something they believe in, but only if they hear about it, only if you find a way to reach them on their turf. For folks around my age, the web is most often our medium, and if a group can figure out a way to tap that, they're golden.
I spoke clearly, but could feel myself turning beet red at suddenly having to throw my own two cents out there. There is something about a board room full of people older than you and much smarter than you that is quite intimidating. All of a sudden the room felt like the temp was around 88 degrees.
His next question, I'm not kidding: "Do you blog?" This discussion lasted about a half hour.
I never ever thought that my admiration/slight obsession with Bono and his work (in addition to his music) and my passion for blogging, of all things, would make me an expert voice in the room, even for a few minutes.
It was wicked fun.
On a wholly other note, I am really excited. There is a potential opportunity for me to be able to travel with a group my client is sending down to Bay St. Louis, Mississippi, one of the hardest-hit areas in the wake of Katrina (CityTeam has been serving there since right after the storm, and has remained there and in another hard-hit location this entire time, staying long after the Red Cross pulled up stakes and moved on. Check out their site, the pics from down there are amazing). Things are still awful down there, and there is still a huge need for relief work. I'd go in April. They'll take me, I'd just have to figure out the whole time-off-work thing. It just might happen, and the thought of being able to actually see these faces and the devastation around them, and actually being able to tangibly serve these people and minister to them... man. It gets my heart beating pretty quick. (You want to talk about bloggable experiences...) Please pray with me that God will open this door.
Okay, off to another day of meetings. It stormed here all night long and the wind blowing through the huge trees around my place kept me awake... hopefully I'll be able to mask the yawns without being too terribly obvious.
PS! I probably won't have to work til 9 pm tonight! Score!
Enjoy the day.
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