Five Days

I spent all Sunday afternoon playing The Sims.

I went to my grandma's on Monday and Tuesday to choose a pattern and fabric for a quilt.

I watched Hero again on Wednesday.

I worked late on Thursday in the (let us pray jinx-proof) hope that I might leave early on Friday. I really wanted to write something, but my brain hurts. And, I found an exciting band. It's Christian Celtic punk. Flatfoot 56

I am going to work early tomorrow.

At work, I have been accused of being in a bad mood for three days now, all because Dan is not here. They're exaggerating. Mostly.

My Lobster

When I was younger I always thought that there was a sort of top-secret rite of passage that all girls go through to become a woman. She learns things about men and about being a wife and mom, and being woman in general, and only ever talks about it to other women. No girl hears of it until it is her time.


Now, I cannot speak of it, but if it does exist, I know that it would most certainly include that episode of Friends that talks about finding one's lobster... It's like an inside joke that all females get (once they've been initiated) and very few men do. Except maybe Darrin.

The Immature and Impractical Roots of Progress

The English recently decided to revisit a decision they made twenty years ago not to invest in an astronaut training program. At the time, they didn't see the point. Now, however, they fear that they will be left behind.

And so I was thinking recently about the English and American desires for expansion and exploration, but being very different cultures, even from soon after their sundering, I realized those desires spring from very different sources.

The English have sought new lands, throughout their history, for practical and pragmatic reasons - tea, sugar cane, slaves, world dominance.

Americans, however, pursue the unknown merely for its own sake. Space exploration? Why? It is unlikely that we will find anything that it will be cost-effective to develop. So then, one must take note that the greatest state in the world, the one who leads the way in so many actions (good and bad) always does so out of its own poorly thought through and pointless quests for discovery.

That's all I have to say.

Those Evil Intellectuals

I have noticed a curiosity among Americans that both intigues and irritates me... there seems to be a general disregard for, distrust of, and even animosity toward those whom we might call "intellectuals." Take, for example, the last presidential race - Americans, in general, were intimidated and put off by the (albeit uptight and removed) rational, intelligent candidate. And much earlier, a large reason the prior president won was because he hid his intellect, and appealed to the "common man."

Or, to draw upon a less controversial example, the questionable heroic nature of a character such as Batman - the thinker. We do not wholly believe that he is good, because his strength lies not in what we can see, but in what only he knows - his own mind.


Now, I must ask, why does the common man have to be uneducated and ignorant? Why is it not a matter of pride among Americans to have knowledge for its own sake? Why are those with "book smarts" treated with disdain, as if their expertise is useless or pointless?

Luke 15:32

Growing up in The Church, all my life I have heard of Christ and His forgiveness, mercy, grace, etc. It was understood, a given. When asked why I was saved, I would give the answer I learned early, "Jesus died for my sins."

Yet now, as an adult, I give that answer offhand, without a thought, and it's only in the quiet that I truly begin to ponder its meaning.

It is a thing that I have never been capable of grasping fully. I have never before had to cling to it, rely upon it as my only hope, know that without it I would perish in despair and wretched filth.

For years I have been an intellectual Christian: in my mind, I know that I have been rescued from damnation; I can argue all I like for Biblical principles and morals; I can regurgitate the words that have been running between my ears since birth. But, of course, on any real plane it all had no meaning. It was an understanding of the flesh and no more.

...

I do not know at what point my faith shifted from its simple path onto such a wayward route. Perhaps it was when I left the church, or when I moved in with my boyfriend. I made many foolish decisions after that moment - I eloped, and told no one; I eventually let my eyes and heart wander; I divorced my husband (although it was technically justified, I still do not agree with or condone divorce); I made some rather foolish choices this last summer, and ultimately removed all control from God. I was in charge, and oh, how poor I turned out to be at that job.

Yet I do know at what point I returned to the old path, rough and hidden though it may be in this wood. On September second, I took a drive at sunrise, and upon having a spontaneous and inspired talk with my God, for the briefest of moments I caught a glimpse of a shadow cast by His glory. Dim though it might be in His glorious presence, nonetheless it shone radiant before me and since then, in leaps (and occasional gradual steps), I have returned to Him. But still I held onto the weight of my shame.

Recently, I learned that I needed to at last fully relinquish my claim on my guilt. If I was to let God actually care for me, well, I needed to let Him do it in all ways. While I envy those who carry no such burden, still perhaps they might be jealous of me; for though I have always the thoughts to dredge up my previous wicked acts, still I know, far more than any righteous man, what it is to accept grace. It is something that I will never take for granted. I am no better for it, in fact, I am even more keenly aware of how pitiful I am - but I can never go without my God again. His death wrenches me from my grasp upon this pale world as it never would otherwise. I am desperate for Him and His light, without fear of its brilliance.

Savior:daylight.

As reeds in the wind - part 1

“Who gave you this authority?” they asked. He knew what reasoning was working its way through their minds, how they feared and yet relied upon the whims of the people.

O what fickle creatures are men…

Word spreads fast in these little towns, and hours before the man arrives, we hear that the Messiah has come, and he is actually going to teach here. What a great man he must be! A warrior, brave, one who will conquer the Romans and our enemies, and finally restore this nation to its place as G*d’s chosen. I walk out with everyone to greet him as he arrives, and my mind has traveled to the valiant deeds he will perform ere long when he finally takes up his sword and sets us free. I imagine what Israel will be, at last raised up from the chains of her thralldom, from the dry air of dust and heat, and how green pastures will roll over the sands and, like he has said, we will none of us ever go thirsty again.

He speaks with ancient wisdom; and though I at first doubt him – he is unkempt from travel and he does not speak at all properly (he is from a backwater town, after all) – I am amazed by his teaching because his message has authority. He casts an evil spirit out of a man and soon we have preached his name and his deeds to all the surrounding area.

I am so captivated by his words, and so enthralled by the thought of what will soon be, that I follow him. I listen to his teaching in other towns, see how he heals the leprous, the crippled, the blind. Eventually, we travel to Jerusalem. He is greeted by cheering crowds who cry out because if they do not then the stones will.

Mildly Antisocial Tendencies

Last night I told the story of Penny's birthday party. For those of you who may never have heard it, here it is. Don't worry, it's short.

In third grade, a second-grader invited me to her birthday party. She was a very popular second grader, so I went. I think she was in my Girl Scout Troop...

Anyway, at the party we had a lot of fun, went on a scavenger hunt, ate cake. At the end of the night, they turned on the radio and started dancing. Guess what I was doing? You all know, because you know me. I was sitting in a corner reading a book. They tried to get me to dance, but I didn't feel like it.

Now, I tell that story not because I want people to feel bad for me [why should they?], but rather because it's funny and it sums up my life in a few sentences. Yet whenever I recall that night, invariably someone listening says, "But you don't have to be that person!" I appreciate the sentiment, I do, but seriously, I don't think it's a bad thing to be a little antisocial.

I try to understand why people can be so upset by my introverted nature, and the only conclusion I can come to is that they think they are not entertaining me enough, or that something is wrong. (Sorry, but that's selfish.) So I try to include myself as much as possible, fight the urge to leave the group and read, daydream, write, etc, not because I am ashamed of who I am. No, I do it so that others don't feel bad.

That's not to say I don't enjoy people. No, I love being around people - I just don't always love interacting with them. Point: If I wander off, don't worry, I'll be back.