Category Archives: Grace

Reading. Grocery Shopping. Wild Rice Soup.

Posted on 5 December 2009 | 4 comments

One of the best books written, Mama Day by Gloria Naylor, was my occupation and my joy for the majority of the day today. I love the way Naylor uses the voices of her characters to tell a complex tale of spirituality and healing, the way she skilfully rends together the tale from Ophelia’s perspective and George’s perspective with the bits told by the omniscient narrator. I think if any writer writes a tale from back to front better than Toni Morrison, it is Naylor. The only way to describe this book is by talking about its beauty and elegance.

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This morning when we went grocery shopping, we had two interesting encounters with strangers. Both were grace filled moments in which we were able to stand in the store and have great conversation with people we didn’t know. It always amazes me that among the chaos of the holiday season and the ridiculous frenzy of the shopping madness that some people become completely intolerant and mean while others become so kind and gracious.

*On a side note I just saw an American Airlines commercial where the attendees of a seminar had to stand face to face because “there is no personal space here. We are all molecules of one large organism.” I don’t rightly think so. Just because I am in favor of kindness and grace, does not mean that I am in favor of being comfy-close with someone else. Ick.*

One of the sweet encounters we had was with a cashier at Meijer, who had just started her shift, but she got to go on her first fifteen minute break after she waited on us. Sometimes when people who work in service jobs find out that they get their breaks, they rush you through in order to get off their feet. I don’t blame them; I’ve worked in the service sector, too. This cashier, whose name I read over and over again so I could remember it, but I didn’t, took her time with us, made small talk, even took two other customers after us because they had been standing in her line. She was friendly, smiled, and told us to have a great day and happy holidays. I think this is going of the way to give grace and make people feel special or human. I like this touch.

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Bec made delicious wild rice soup tonight. She added fresh mushrooms to make it a little more hearty. We haven’t had it for a long time, so it was a welcome dinner. It is rich and thick and a perfect warm up before we go out to walk the dogs. I love a rich stew-like soup!

The Iron Chef secret ingredient is eggnog tonight. I think Bobby Flay got his chef’s hat handed to him by Morimoto. I love it when that happens.

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I am thankful for small but meaningful interactions with people we didn’t previously know.

Exercise: walked dogs 2 miles

Food: banana, hot chocolate, cheese ball, pretzels, celery, swiss cheese, rice soup, almonds, two clementines, Klondike bar

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Posted in Dissertation, Food, Grace, Literature, Reading, Relationships, Winter Weather

Pit Bulls and Parolees

Posted on 30 November 2009 | 3 comments

Tonight we watched Pit Bulls and Parolees, a show on Animal Planet. Do you suppose she would hire me to work at Villalobos Rescue, even though I am not a parolee? I think that would be the perfect job for me. I could be the chef for the pit bulls, making gourmet dog food and treats and doing nothing else but loving on dogs. I would love on mine 24/7 if I could. There is just something about a big, furry mess of a dog, particularly one with a huge mouth that peels into a smile when she looks at me. I would love to move out into the country somewhere and be a foster-family for a pit bull rescue. Maybe we can do that when we move to wherever we end up. I would love it.

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I am thankful for people who make a difference in the world. People who love the unlovable and who give second chances.

Exercise: walked the dogs 1.5 miles, rode my bike to RB to Burris back to RB and home

Food: banana, waffle, tea with milk, juice, cheese sandwich, apple, pretzels, chocolate milk, two pieces of double-crust pizza, salad, mint M&Ms

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Posted in Food, Grace, Relationships

I Know Why.

Posted on 16 November 2009 | 1 comment

I know why homeless people stay homeless. As I was riding my bike in the rain to the mission this morning, I thought to myself, ‘This is why some homeless people get stuck in poverty. If I didn’t have a job or a home, how could I get one?’ I thought about this because it was raining pretty hard and my tires on my bicycle were spitting water all over my pants. By the time I got to the mission, I was drenched, cold, and out of breath. If I had been a person who was unemployed and on my way to a job interview, there would have been absolutely nothing I could have done about my appearance. My pants were literally soaked through. My underwear are still a little soggy and it is exactly twelve hours later. How many people do you think would hire a person who can’t even show up for her interview looking halfway presentable? Is there anywhere that will let you work the first couple of weeks until you can afford to buy a uniform? What if you still can’t afford a uniform after the first two weeks? What if you can’t afford to pay your water bill and don’t have perfectly clean clothes each day? I think about this frequently because I wonder how people are supposed to get a leg up when we place such high expectations on people in the work force. Surely there is somewhere that helps people help themselves, but I don’t hold my breath.

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Today was writing club: Write On! Huh? One of the students led the group today. He brought a prompt, which was a list of fifty words. We picked numbers between one and fifty, then used the words that corresponded with the numbers in a story of 300-500 words. The words were pretty lame, according to the student, but I made my first (lame) foray into writing fiction using these words:  plastic grocery bag, candles, large drink cup, mustache, and poster.

It Seemed Like Child’s Play

I stopped in front of the wanted poster hanging outside the candy store next to the grocery store on our town square. “Small Town USA,” our town motto rang in my ears. I moved here when I had a child, so she would be safe. I thought there was too much crime in the big city to raise children there.

Usually they wear leisure suits with wide lapels in these posters. Apparently, the perpetrator’s wardrobe updates end in the late seventies. This man was no exception. Movie villains are always well-dressed and looking for a good time. Slick mustache and hair combed straight back: every movie villain has the same style. Sometimes the hair covers a bald spot. Sometimes the bald spot shows through. But this wasn’t a movie villain. This was a man who had been spotted in our town.  This was simply a pervert looking for a good time.

I stood there looking at the poster, thinking about how it resembled a B-movie poster when the wind picked up, cold and fast, bringing with it a large drink cup wrapped in a plastic grocery bag. The whirlwind circled around me as if it was trying to tell me something, like Lassie explaining that Timmy fell into the well. I ignored the icy gust, and kept staring into the eyes of this man in front of me, shuddering and thinking about my beautiful daughter and how this man was loose in our neighborhood. All I could think of was his sleezy mustache and greasy comb over. They consumed me. They haunted me. They made my skin prick with cold.

The wind howled around the building, the plastic grocery bag crinkled and scraped its way across the parking lot, taking with it the cup, which must have been empty. The pair blowing across the pavement made me wonder about their former contents. Someone’s lunch. An after work snack. Halloween candy collected by a small child. I put my collar up to shield my neck from the sudden cold, and thought about the mustache and the hair. This man with his piercing stare could be anywhere, lurking, waiting for a small child to pass his way.

I began to question. Was the grocery bag clutched by small hands, greedily collecting falling leaves? Those could have been my daughter’s hands wrapped tightly around the plastic handles, waiting for a piece of penny candy. They could have been the hands of the boy next door, holding the bag for his father on the way home from the store. Had the pervert’s dry, cracked hands, having been run across his greasy hair, having caressed the ends of his mustache, gripped that large Styrofoam cup? Had his lips pulled the soda through straw to quench his thirst?

Now the drink was gone, the contents of the bag were gone, and the child was gone. I thought about how scared my mother had been that I would be kidnapped as a child, and now I had my own worries. But my morose imagination had run away with me. When the wind whipped past my collar and began to sting my eyes, I remembered I needed to pick up candles for my daughter’s birthday cake.

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Exercise: biked to the mission then to Burris

Food: banana, milk, two Bliss chocolates, Clif bar, tea, apple, almonds, pumpkin spice steamer, sun chips, pasta with stir fry, M&Ms

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Posted in CW, Food, Grace, Homelessness, Politics, School, Teaching, Writing

People Who Make the World Right

Posted on 11 November 2009 | Leave a comment

I don’t often think of the way that certain people make life bearable and, in fact, even enjoyable. I was reminded today of three people who not only do their jobs, but who do them well. Above and beyond the requirements of their jobs. All three happen to work in the graduate office, or whatever they are calling it these days, at the Ball. Sometimes it is important to notice when people make others’ lives easier.compassionA couple of weeks ago when I was having such a bad spot, the first person to notice my funk was Shawna, our administrative assistant. She didn’t just notice that I was especially flustered or sad; she asked me if I was doing okay. She actually was concerned about my well-being, which is a rare quality to find in another individual, particularly someone who works as an administrative assistant at BSU. (They don’t have the best reputation.) Since I have been at Ball State there have been three people who have done her job, but Shawna is by far the most sensitive and helpful. She goes above and beyond in every way to ensure our (the students’) success. I have learned that if you need something, Shawna is the one to ask.

Similarly, Jill gives as much of herself as anyone I have ever met. She exudes grace and mercy, while also maintaining an air of justice. Some of my favorite classes during my graduate program have been my creative nonfiction classes. I am not sure that my creative writing improved, though that is no fault of Jill’s; but, through thinking about memoir, I have grown in my academic writing. I am more aware of the way I weave words together, more cognizant of my audience, and more interested in choosing the exact phrases to communicate my ideas clearly. More importantly, Jill encourages her students to be engaged and gracious human beings. How? It’s a gift.

Finally, our graduate director is one of the most diplomatic and compassionate people I know. How she is so eloquently and gracefully the liaison between the students and the graduate school, I will never know. What I do know is that she excels at her job, and she does it with a smile. I think my appreciation for Debbie grew exponentially today when I was sharing with a friend about her positive and uplifting role in our graduate school careers. I was talking about how astounded I am at the fact that one person can embody such intense passion for her career, while also exhibiting such compassion for those of us seeking to pursue the same path.

I hope one day a student of mine can say that I influenced his or her life in the ways that mine has been influenced by these amazing women. In case it never feels like it, there are some of us who notice you going above and beyond to make BSU a better place to be. How is it that I always feel better about myself after I’ve been around you? Thanks.

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Since today was Veteran’s Day, I was thinking pretty extensively about my family members and friends who have been in the military. Although I disagree with most of what our government does, I do recognize that the men and women of the armed forces go to great lengths to ensure our American freedom, including my right to disagree with the government. I want peace, but I also honor the military personnel. So thanks.

  • Vernon Hash
  • James Roberson
  • Themie Pappas
  • George Pappas
  • Bill Pappas
  • Jim Pappas
  • Mike Pappas
  • Tony Shiner
  • Rick Hash
  • William Keck
  • Vaughn Hash
  • Bernard Hash
  • Dale Hash
  • Calvin Hackman
  • Jack Taly
  • Jack Harris
  • Ed Comber
  • Nathan Neely
  • Drew Hunter
  • Nathan Klink
  • Ty Shadle

If your name isn’t on this list, please forgive me, and know that I do appreciate your sacrifice. 3875416709_28f5eede84*

Exercise: Walked the dogs 1.4 miles, rode my bike from RB to Burris and back

Food: banana, Clif bar, apple, tea, Chinese, Superman ice cream with sprinkles, M&Ms

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Posted in CNF, Food, Grace, Relationships, School, Teaching, Writing

Ups and Downs.

Posted on 8 November 2009 | 2 comments

Today has been one of theological ups and downs. I have decided that I cannot go back to Agape, and, sadly, there aren’t very many people I will even miss by not returning. I say this is sad because a person shouldn’t be able to attend a church for three and a half years, then leave, and not really miss anyone. I think I didn’t form attachments to many people because I didn’t feel like I could ever be myself, which I suppose I will wrestle with for most of my adult life in church.

On my way to church this morning, I prayed for God to change my heart, for God to meet me there, and for my own knowledge and pride not to get in my way. I found myself worshiping God in a way that I hadn’t in a long time. I felt at one with all God’s glory around me: the trees in their changing state, the fields being harvested, and the wind blowing forcefully through the trees. I felt like Celie in The Color Purple when she finally understood who God is: “Here’s the thing, say Shug. The thing I believe. God is inside you and inside everybody else. You come into this world with God. But only them that search for it inside find it. And sometimes it just manifest itself even if you not looking, or don’t know what you are looking for. Trouble do it for most folks, I think. […] God ain’t a he or a she, but a It.” I was reveling in the beauty of my body as I exercised, basking in God’s love. “Create in me a clean heart, put a new and right spirit within me,” I prayed with David, the Psalmist. I felt like my previous tension and even anger had been swept away by this 40 minutes of worship and prayer. When I walked into church a few minutes late, they were already taking communion. I interpreted this as a good sign. Surely, today would be different.

Aside from the new red and yellow stage lighting and the performative nature of the worship sets, I can live with change. I am not someone who despises things simply because they are new; I just expect things to change for some higher or better purpose, especially when they involve God, the Church, or things theological. I could feel my annoyance rising when I could tell that the service had been engineered to run seamlessly. My irritation continued to rise when attention was drawn to the fact that it was engineered in this manner, and we were expected to think that was cool and even lament the fact that it didn’t go off as planned.

My anger culminated when the Scripture we read was Acts 1. I wasn’t angry about reading Acts 1—Acts is one of my favorite books of the Bible, and I would consider it one of the most powerful—but I was angry at the fact that we read most of Acts 1, except PART of verse 14: “They all joined together constantly in prayer, along with the women and Mary the mother of Jesus, and with his brothers.” We were encouraged to understand that we should pray all the time, but we never discussed the revolutionary implications of a church who prays together, male and female, joined together. Similarly, when we talked about the Samaritan woman at the well a few Sundays ago, more attention was drawn to the fact that she was Samaritan than the fact that she was a woman. In fact, we also didn’t read part of that Scripture either. The part we neglected to read was John 4:27: “Just then his disciples returned and were surprised to find him talking with a woman. But no one asked, ‘What do you want?’ or ‘Why are you talking with her?'” How can you tell, let alone try to apply an exegetical or hermeneutical understanding to, this story without mentioning the female aspect of it?isnt_heart_break_cute1

By the end of the service this morning I was filled with anger, disappointment, and a great sense of loss. I found myself mourning the great strides I had seen our church make over the past few years. They have been lost or abandoned in less than a couple of months. I lay hope in the fact that this style of service reaches someone. Obviously it reaches the people who go there, but it doesn’t reach me. I think God uses everything to reach out to this world, but it doesn’t mean that everything reaches everyone. I think it is better for my spiritual well-being if I just stop going and find somewhere that doesn’t provoke me to rage. This is difficult for me. I am not one to quit what I have started, but my spiritual health relies on my leaving. Bye, Agape. I mourn the loss of you.

I decided to try out Commonway Church tonight. I loved it. The worship was genuine; the message, given by a missionary to China, was thought-provoking; and, they actually do real things like go to movies with each other and talk about worldly ventures. I didn’t feel cloistered off from the real world. I felt like I was in the world, not of the world. I did not feel like I should be ashamed for listening to secular music, watching movies that are rated R, or thinking critically about the word. In fact, the speaker compared God’s glory and world recognition to the world-renown of Michael Jordan. Let’s face it. More people could probably pick Michael Jordan out of a line up than could pick Jesus out. It was good. I have found at least a temporary home.

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I have decided to start listing my food consumption and exercise expenditure here. The purpose of this is two-fold: (1) I need to make sure I am eating properly. (2) If I list it here each day, it will encourage me to write more.

Exercise: walked the dogs 1.4 miles; ran for 39 minutes (3 miles); biked to church and home

Food: banana, juice, oatmeal, spaghetti with marinara, spaghetti squash, spinach, ice cream sandwich, two Twizzlers, popcorn, cheese, an apple, glass of chocolate milk

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Posted in Feminism, Food, Grace, Relationships, Running, Writing