"By rights we shouldn't even be here. But we are. It's like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo; the ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger, they were. And sometimes you didn’t want to know the end... because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was, when so much bad had happened? But in the end, it’s only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines, it will shine out the clearer." Sam to Frodo, "Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers"
I thought of that quote as we left Colorado. It wasn't a sudden shock to the sytem, more like a thousand little losses, one after the other. First it was leaving my own bed and my own room, that Steve and the boys had hand plastered for me while I was having my sinus surgery. Then it was leaving my bathroom with the tiles we picked out so carefully and each cabinet, finish and fixture we had spent so much time selecting. Through the house, I said my mental goodbyes. I said my goodbyes to Alex (who was in Tennessee at the time) to Kristen, Paul and Timmy, who were away for the night, to my parents, Dad still sleeping, Mom in her robe, to my yellow lab, left behind to keep Mom company, then it was to my yard, each plant selected and placed by me, except for the glorious trees which were there when we bought the place, and some weeds which moved in on their own.
Then we were off and I said goodbye to my street, my neighbors safe in their beds, to my neighborhood, and at each turn it seemed there was a goodbye to be said in my heart. It was a goodbye to the familiar, to the restaurants where I eat with friends, to the stores where I purchase plants for my yard, or buy my favorite white blouses, to a thousand memories all tugging gently at the corners of my mind.
It was goodbye to my mountain, etc., etc. On and on and on it went. It wasn't until we pulled out of Limon that I really felt that we were on our way toward something and not just away. Beyond Limon, even though I've driven the road before, it isn't familiar enough to hold tons of memories.
And then I felt adrift. Not comfortably adrift, just strangely without connection to my surroundings and to my life. I am not comfortable anymore. And more than ever, Tolkein rings true. I have a mixed longing for and abhorrence of adventure. Nasty, wet, smelly things, adventures. A safe and somewhat scary dart out into the unfamiliar while knowing the time frame for hitting the familiar again? FUN. Scary dart into the wide unknown with no plan or timetable for safe return? Far more scary than fun.
As I sit here, gazing at these bare walls, thinking of the art, pictures and mementos left behind, I am wondering what I should make of myself here. And I'm thinking that I never made much of myself before. It's not a whining, self-pitying statement, more a realization of fact. I've lived a small life. I've never lived the life I wanted. I always tried to fit into the place others would have me, and when I dared to try to leave that spot, got slapped down for it. I don't think it was intentional, just what happens if you don't fit the mold. And I've given up far too easily.
How then shall I live? What now shall I do?
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Saturday, August 08, 2009
8/8/09 Steve's Birthday
Sitting at MVA...on a Saturday.
Walking in, there was an older woman walking out with a dull-looking teen in a backward-facing ball cap, horizontal striped polo shirt and long, loose denim shorts.
"She can't find it, because she never keeps her papers in order." Her thin wrinkled face wore a grim expression, and her husky voice and Baltimore accent reminds me of my mother-in-law.
We wind up sitting in the second row. Within a couple of minutes the grim woman and the dull-looking teen join a woman sitting in front of us, who appears to be the teen's mother. Apparently Maryland requires multiple evidences of your identity before allowing you the privilege of a drivers license, and the two women are griping back and forth about the papers required and what it will take to meet those requirements and not have to return. Or rather the older woman snips and gripes and the younger one occasionally defends herself or tries to get a word in edgewise.
Their discontent and animosity toward each other is making me ill.
From the lines on the older woman's face, it's obvious that she has spent much of her life unhappy and upset. The younger woman keeps her face turned away from her most of the time, and from their manner toward each other it is clear that this is just a new chapter in an old quarrel.
I can't figure out who these people are to each other. This could be mother-in-law/daughter-in-law or mother/daughter. I don't know which thought makes me sadder. Just having both these women tied to each other in some way is sad enough. It appears that they all live together, as grandma leaves briefly and returns with a copy of her lease to prove the address of the boy.
As I watch them the reason for the boy's expression becomes clear. Remaining disengaged is his way of surviving this constant state of misery. Living in his own world is his way or avoiding his grandmother's wrath and caustic words. It makes me sad to watch what is part of a continuing drama. Even though the players seem accustomed to their parts and their reactions dulled, there is a sad and pained expression on the face of the mother. Her eyes carry a sheen of unshed tears and her face is beginning to set in lines of pain and disappointment.
Watching them I want to reach in with my Jedi mind trick: "You aren't angry at her any more." I whisper toward the old woman, waggling my fingers toward her. "She doesn't bother you," I am at the younger woman. They are not receptive to Jedi mind control.
Then their number is called and they head to the counter, taking their oppressive and depressing mood with them.
Walking in, there was an older woman walking out with a dull-looking teen in a backward-facing ball cap, horizontal striped polo shirt and long, loose denim shorts.
"She can't find it, because she never keeps her papers in order." Her thin wrinkled face wore a grim expression, and her husky voice and Baltimore accent reminds me of my mother-in-law.
We wind up sitting in the second row. Within a couple of minutes the grim woman and the dull-looking teen join a woman sitting in front of us, who appears to be the teen's mother. Apparently Maryland requires multiple evidences of your identity before allowing you the privilege of a drivers license, and the two women are griping back and forth about the papers required and what it will take to meet those requirements and not have to return. Or rather the older woman snips and gripes and the younger one occasionally defends herself or tries to get a word in edgewise.
Their discontent and animosity toward each other is making me ill.
From the lines on the older woman's face, it's obvious that she has spent much of her life unhappy and upset. The younger woman keeps her face turned away from her most of the time, and from their manner toward each other it is clear that this is just a new chapter in an old quarrel.
I can't figure out who these people are to each other. This could be mother-in-law/daughter-in-law or mother/daughter. I don't know which thought makes me sadder. Just having both these women tied to each other in some way is sad enough. It appears that they all live together, as grandma leaves briefly and returns with a copy of her lease to prove the address of the boy.
As I watch them the reason for the boy's expression becomes clear. Remaining disengaged is his way of surviving this constant state of misery. Living in his own world is his way or avoiding his grandmother's wrath and caustic words. It makes me sad to watch what is part of a continuing drama. Even though the players seem accustomed to their parts and their reactions dulled, there is a sad and pained expression on the face of the mother. Her eyes carry a sheen of unshed tears and her face is beginning to set in lines of pain and disappointment.
Watching them I want to reach in with my Jedi mind trick: "You aren't angry at her any more." I whisper toward the old woman, waggling my fingers toward her. "She doesn't bother you," I am at the younger woman. They are not receptive to Jedi mind control.
Then their number is called and they head to the counter, taking their oppressive and depressing mood with them.
Friday, August 07, 2009
New Point of View
The whole trip here to Maryland I had a nagging sense of wrong-ness, that I couldn't put my finger on for quite a while. Then it occurred to me that it was the bit about heading East. "Go West, young man, and grow up with the country." the quote goes. Throughout American history, we struggled to go westward. West from England across the Atlantic, before that West by Northwest, braving Arctic seas from Norway to Greenland and down the Atlantic seaboard, my people came. And while some reached the Atlantic coast and stayed, those compelled to brave the new frontier headed west.
So facing a new adventure, it seems odd to head East. Stranger still to have this adventure land me somewhere that I have already been, but still feels so unfamiliar.
This is the only place I have ever been where I felt lost. Completely lost. I don't know where North is. I don't know where my position is on the planet at any given time. My internal compass is whirling as if placed on top of a strong magnet.
I have no one to go meet for a cup of coffee. No one I can drop in on when I feel the need for a hug or a kind word. My Monday nights are free for football once again, but I do not want them to be free.
So the Israelites longed for Egypt. They forgot, perhaps of making bricks without straw, forgot their cries to God to be released from their bonds of slavery, but instead remembered the familiar. They remembered planting leeks and onions. They remembered where they had gathered their herbs, threshed their grain, gathered with friends for supper, and where they had met to worship their God.
They did not know where they were going. They did not know where they were, just as I have no idea what I am doing here or where I am. They only knew that they followed the cloud.
My illusions of safety are being stripped away. My illusions of comfort in my surroundings are being swept away. I am walking through the desert (metaphorically speaking, of course) and get to drag my friends along only through facebook, email or phone calls, imperfect mediums all.
I have taken my eyes from my Creator for a time and in that time become discontent. I have no cloud visible outside my window telling me that today I stay or today I go, but imagine this...the cloud is ALL you have of God. He speaks, but it is to others who relay His words. Instead, we get to hear from God directly. We have His Spirit living within. I have sometimes envied the Israelites that cloud--that visible reminder of God's presence, never thinking that the cloud was a reminder of God's presence because they could not know Him as you and I can know Him. That indwelling of the Holy Spirit, the communion between God and man is a thing I take for granted and far too lightly, I fear.
I do not know what tomorrow holds. But for today, and this moment, there is a critter or critters in the tree outside my balcony--squirrels perhaps--that are jiggling the leaves and making the branches dance. There is a gentle breeze stirring the top of the pool just across the fence, there is a constant chattering or clicking noise that I think may be insects of some kind, and the forest is barely held back by the encroachments of mankind. The dog is laying peacefully at my feet, and I am once again content. Homesick, but content.
So facing a new adventure, it seems odd to head East. Stranger still to have this adventure land me somewhere that I have already been, but still feels so unfamiliar.
This is the only place I have ever been where I felt lost. Completely lost. I don't know where North is. I don't know where my position is on the planet at any given time. My internal compass is whirling as if placed on top of a strong magnet.
I have no one to go meet for a cup of coffee. No one I can drop in on when I feel the need for a hug or a kind word. My Monday nights are free for football once again, but I do not want them to be free.
So the Israelites longed for Egypt. They forgot, perhaps of making bricks without straw, forgot their cries to God to be released from their bonds of slavery, but instead remembered the familiar. They remembered planting leeks and onions. They remembered where they had gathered their herbs, threshed their grain, gathered with friends for supper, and where they had met to worship their God.
They did not know where they were going. They did not know where they were, just as I have no idea what I am doing here or where I am. They only knew that they followed the cloud.
My illusions of safety are being stripped away. My illusions of comfort in my surroundings are being swept away. I am walking through the desert (metaphorically speaking, of course) and get to drag my friends along only through facebook, email or phone calls, imperfect mediums all.
I have taken my eyes from my Creator for a time and in that time become discontent. I have no cloud visible outside my window telling me that today I stay or today I go, but imagine this...the cloud is ALL you have of God. He speaks, but it is to others who relay His words. Instead, we get to hear from God directly. We have His Spirit living within. I have sometimes envied the Israelites that cloud--that visible reminder of God's presence, never thinking that the cloud was a reminder of God's presence because they could not know Him as you and I can know Him. That indwelling of the Holy Spirit, the communion between God and man is a thing I take for granted and far too lightly, I fear.
I do not know what tomorrow holds. But for today, and this moment, there is a critter or critters in the tree outside my balcony--squirrels perhaps--that are jiggling the leaves and making the branches dance. There is a gentle breeze stirring the top of the pool just across the fence, there is a constant chattering or clicking noise that I think may be insects of some kind, and the forest is barely held back by the encroachments of mankind. The dog is laying peacefully at my feet, and I am once again content. Homesick, but content.
Sunday, July 26, 2009
The Road Ahead...
Looking forward. Isn't that what we're supposed to do? Looking to those things that are ahead, I press forward, forgetting those things that are behind. I'm not sure that means I actually forget what is behind. I'll have to look into that. More likely I am to press forward. I don't think we forget people and what they mean to us, but we cannot let that be an anchor that keeps us from moving forward. We take them with us in our hearts (and on our facebook pages) as we move into where we are to be next. We look at the goals ahead, don't keep longing for Egypt. It's easier said than done, my friends.
We are all prone to be longing for the leeks and onions of Egypt that seem so secure. We forget the trials sometimes as we look back and remember the past. When the present has it's own pains and difficulties, we are wanting easier times somewhere, even if it is moving backwards. The future is such a scary thing, full of the unknown. When I take my eyes off God, the future is completely frightening. If I forget his loving hands are holding me, I lose heart.
Each day has it's own fears and worries, trials and disappointments. We NEED to keep our eyes on God. We must. I must! I am faint of heart, weak and tired. I must have the courage, strength and refreshment and energy that God provides. I must relax and let him work through me. I cannot do it on my own.
Today was yet another example. I cannot sing. I cannot control my voice or keep it on pitch, control my tone, or even my breath. Pneumonia has stolen this from me. Yet today, as in the past, I was confident that I could sing, confident that God would provide what was needed. And he did. The songs were all so meaningful to me, all about how we can count on God, how he is our source of strength, that we should bless the Lord at all times, good and bad, his name is to be praised, how he saves us and gives us the ability to stand and that we can surrender to his goodness. Oh, how beautiful it was to sing with my beloved worship team, to my Savior and to share that time with my loved ones at CCR. Kelly, Alyssa, Becky, Jim, Donna, Lisa, Kim, Beth, Nicole, Charlotte, Sandra, Bob, Tim, Russ, Bernie, Markus, Denny, Lori, Ron, Anne...oh, and so many others...what a joy it was to worship with you one last time, to lead you into a blessed sharing of worship for the Savior of our Souls...
What an amazing gift God has given me. To be able to do this is a blessing. To know that God stepped in, gave my voice control, gave me breath, gave me tone, gave me notes to sing and the memory to know the words...what a blessing. To do this with pneumonia is a joy I can't tell you. To know how very wobbly my voice is and how the coughing just takes over and to be able to do this. And yet, I could be confident because I have seen God do this in the past. He has enabled me to sing when I couldn't talk. He has held me up through asthma attacks, migraines, pneumonia, bronchitis and who knows what all. He has done it before and I am confident that he can do it again.
So, let me look ahead, remembering the things in the past, but not dwelling on them or longing for them in a way that steals the present away from me. I could not forget my friends and family. I'd be more likely to pull a fiber from the very fabric of my heart. I rest on these friendships. We have encouraged each other toward good works, toward Godliness, toward righteousness, we have held each other up in good and bad times, rejoiced with each other, wept with each other. Those things are not to be forgotten, but God has new people to be in front of me every day. I pray that I will have opportunities to serve and to talk about how great a thing he has done for me, and to encourage people to follow after God, so that they can have their own stories to tell of God's goodness.
I just installed my TomTom. A voice now tells me where the turns are ahead, tells me when I have gone too far and guides me how to get back to where I am supposed to be. I've already had this, in a spiritual way. God has been telling me for years when to turn, when to speak, when to be silent, when I've gone ahead of him and how to turn around and be in his will...His voice is my guide for the road ahead. His the cloud that tells me when to stay and when to go. His the loving guiding hand that holds me up when I am falling.
I do not have to program my destination, he has already determined that for me. I simply need to listen for his voice on the road ahead of me.
We are all prone to be longing for the leeks and onions of Egypt that seem so secure. We forget the trials sometimes as we look back and remember the past. When the present has it's own pains and difficulties, we are wanting easier times somewhere, even if it is moving backwards. The future is such a scary thing, full of the unknown. When I take my eyes off God, the future is completely frightening. If I forget his loving hands are holding me, I lose heart.
Each day has it's own fears and worries, trials and disappointments. We NEED to keep our eyes on God. We must. I must! I am faint of heart, weak and tired. I must have the courage, strength and refreshment and energy that God provides. I must relax and let him work through me. I cannot do it on my own.
Today was yet another example. I cannot sing. I cannot control my voice or keep it on pitch, control my tone, or even my breath. Pneumonia has stolen this from me. Yet today, as in the past, I was confident that I could sing, confident that God would provide what was needed. And he did. The songs were all so meaningful to me, all about how we can count on God, how he is our source of strength, that we should bless the Lord at all times, good and bad, his name is to be praised, how he saves us and gives us the ability to stand and that we can surrender to his goodness. Oh, how beautiful it was to sing with my beloved worship team, to my Savior and to share that time with my loved ones at CCR. Kelly, Alyssa, Becky, Jim, Donna, Lisa, Kim, Beth, Nicole, Charlotte, Sandra, Bob, Tim, Russ, Bernie, Markus, Denny, Lori, Ron, Anne...oh, and so many others...what a joy it was to worship with you one last time, to lead you into a blessed sharing of worship for the Savior of our Souls...
What an amazing gift God has given me. To be able to do this is a blessing. To know that God stepped in, gave my voice control, gave me breath, gave me tone, gave me notes to sing and the memory to know the words...what a blessing. To do this with pneumonia is a joy I can't tell you. To know how very wobbly my voice is and how the coughing just takes over and to be able to do this. And yet, I could be confident because I have seen God do this in the past. He has enabled me to sing when I couldn't talk. He has held me up through asthma attacks, migraines, pneumonia, bronchitis and who knows what all. He has done it before and I am confident that he can do it again.
So, let me look ahead, remembering the things in the past, but not dwelling on them or longing for them in a way that steals the present away from me. I could not forget my friends and family. I'd be more likely to pull a fiber from the very fabric of my heart. I rest on these friendships. We have encouraged each other toward good works, toward Godliness, toward righteousness, we have held each other up in good and bad times, rejoiced with each other, wept with each other. Those things are not to be forgotten, but God has new people to be in front of me every day. I pray that I will have opportunities to serve and to talk about how great a thing he has done for me, and to encourage people to follow after God, so that they can have their own stories to tell of God's goodness.
I just installed my TomTom. A voice now tells me where the turns are ahead, tells me when I have gone too far and guides me how to get back to where I am supposed to be. I've already had this, in a spiritual way. God has been telling me for years when to turn, when to speak, when to be silent, when I've gone ahead of him and how to turn around and be in his will...His voice is my guide for the road ahead. His the cloud that tells me when to stay and when to go. His the loving guiding hand that holds me up when I am falling.
I do not have to program my destination, he has already determined that for me. I simply need to listen for his voice on the road ahead of me.
Monday, July 20, 2009
If Jesus Was a Jerk
If Jesus was a jerk (like me) we'd be best buds. I mean who doesn't like to sit at the mall and mock people who are walking by? The woman whose clothes fit 20 or 30 pound ago, the one with hair standing 6 inches above her head, the guy trying so desperately to look like a girly man or a manly girl with his manliner and skin-tight skinny jeans, the 50 year old woman dressing like she's Brittany Spears. Who doesn't love a good mocking-others session?
Ummm. Perhaps Jesus wouldn't enjoy it.
If Jesus was a jerk (like me) he would make us all laugh with sarcastic comments.
Ummm. He seemed to have saved his sarcasm for the self-righteous religious leaders.
If Jesus was a jerk (like me) he would be so concerned with how his feelings got hurt when they spit on him, or falsely arrested him, or held an illegal trial, or whipped him, or drove spikes through his hands and feet or the thorns through his scalp that he would have torn them apart with a word, with a flick of his finger or with merely a thought which blew their bodies apart (which he was holding together, by the way) or he would have called the armies of heaven to obliterate them in the most painful way possible.
If Jesus was a jerk (like me) he would be upset when we don't give him the praise that is his due, or thank him for all the things he does, like holding us together and giving us life and breath, as an example. He would want his accolades, his award ceremonies, a gold star on his report card. He certainly wouldn't spend three years! with guys who were so thick they didn't understand who he was and what that meant. He would find people a little quicker to understand his greatness and majesty. If he was like me.
Oh if only I would grasp his infinite greatness and the wonder of his incomparable gift. Perhaps then I would be better able to love people who can't pick the "right" shoes to go with their outfits, or who don't appreciate me, who hurt me with unkind words or deeds. Perhaps I would forgive graciously, perhaps I would serve unselfishly, perhaps I would use kinder words, if only I weren't a jerk like me.
Ummm. Perhaps Jesus wouldn't enjoy it.
If Jesus was a jerk (like me) he would make us all laugh with sarcastic comments.
Ummm. He seemed to have saved his sarcasm for the self-righteous religious leaders.
If Jesus was a jerk (like me) he would be so concerned with how his feelings got hurt when they spit on him, or falsely arrested him, or held an illegal trial, or whipped him, or drove spikes through his hands and feet or the thorns through his scalp that he would have torn them apart with a word, with a flick of his finger or with merely a thought which blew their bodies apart (which he was holding together, by the way) or he would have called the armies of heaven to obliterate them in the most painful way possible.
If Jesus was a jerk (like me) he would be upset when we don't give him the praise that is his due, or thank him for all the things he does, like holding us together and giving us life and breath, as an example. He would want his accolades, his award ceremonies, a gold star on his report card. He certainly wouldn't spend three years! with guys who were so thick they didn't understand who he was and what that meant. He would find people a little quicker to understand his greatness and majesty. If he was like me.
Oh if only I would grasp his infinite greatness and the wonder of his incomparable gift. Perhaps then I would be better able to love people who can't pick the "right" shoes to go with their outfits, or who don't appreciate me, who hurt me with unkind words or deeds. Perhaps I would forgive graciously, perhaps I would serve unselfishly, perhaps I would use kinder words, if only I weren't a jerk like me.
For a Cure
What would we do for the cure
to the ills that haunt us here?
What pain endure, what comforts lose?
What burdens would we bear?
Or would I choose to bear the signs
of sin which brought on our decline?
I often think that pain's a tool
of a malevolent one
Whose hatred for me runs so strong
it would steal joy from my bones.
And when you said you'd lost all hope
I knew exactly what you meant
I knew you'd come to realize that you'd
soon leave your earthly home
I also knew that healing comes
if not on earth, than through the son
Whose resurrection made a way
For healing then if not today.
I held you tight and said the words
That hope was in another world.
But while in this fallen estate,
We face the ills of mankind's fate
The fate was sealed with Adam's fall
For one man's sin has doomed us all
But where one man's guilt has wrought destruction
One sacrifice healed corruption
And made it so we could escape
The bonds and ends of sinner's fate.
For by one man we all were doomed
and by one man salvation comes.
Salvation not just from our sin
But of sin's consequential ills.
to the ills that haunt us here?
What pain endure, what comforts lose?
What burdens would we bear?
Or would I choose to bear the signs
of sin which brought on our decline?
I often think that pain's a tool
of a malevolent one
Whose hatred for me runs so strong
it would steal joy from my bones.
And when you said you'd lost all hope
I knew exactly what you meant
I knew you'd come to realize that you'd
soon leave your earthly home
I also knew that healing comes
if not on earth, than through the son
Whose resurrection made a way
For healing then if not today.
I held you tight and said the words
That hope was in another world.
But while in this fallen estate,
We face the ills of mankind's fate
The fate was sealed with Adam's fall
For one man's sin has doomed us all
But where one man's guilt has wrought destruction
One sacrifice healed corruption
And made it so we could escape
The bonds and ends of sinner's fate.
For by one man we all were doomed
and by one man salvation comes.
Salvation not just from our sin
But of sin's consequential ills.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Attendance was down
Attendance was down in church today
The sun was out, and I hear the fish were biting
The band played, the singers sang their songs
The preacher preached. But the AC wasn't working.
But if we are his body, where were the people?
Where were the hands and feet? Where were his ears and temples?
In the seats were some new folks, wondering what was wrong here?
Sitting in a row by themselves, they wanted to run during greeting.
I sat and cried throughout the morning.
To know my time here is ending
The ushers and greeters were in place
Though I said goodbye to a lot of people
So many I love just weren't there.
They went away and I lost one more chance to see them.
It breaks my heart to lose a chance to say "I love you."
If we are the body we should be gathered together
For what are feet without ankles, a head without neck to turn it?
Maybe we should cancel services for the month of August
And meet on the side of a river
We'll fish for trout now,
We'll fish for people later
We want to play now
The sun is bright and shining
Souls will wait, for now the fish are biting.
The sun was out, and I hear the fish were biting
The band played, the singers sang their songs
The preacher preached. But the AC wasn't working.
But if we are his body, where were the people?
Where were the hands and feet? Where were his ears and temples?
In the seats were some new folks, wondering what was wrong here?
Sitting in a row by themselves, they wanted to run during greeting.
I sat and cried throughout the morning.
To know my time here is ending
The ushers and greeters were in place
Though I said goodbye to a lot of people
So many I love just weren't there.
They went away and I lost one more chance to see them.
It breaks my heart to lose a chance to say "I love you."
If we are the body we should be gathered together
For what are feet without ankles, a head without neck to turn it?
Maybe we should cancel services for the month of August
And meet on the side of a river
We'll fish for trout now,
We'll fish for people later
We want to play now
The sun is bright and shining
Souls will wait, for now the fish are biting.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)