Category Archives: Just for Fun

Still Twisted Up in My Midsection

This is how I feel. Like a puddle of yuck by the side of the road.

I_see_this_colour_by_dev1n

I am still a bit twisted up, but for different reasons. I am finished wasting away over not studying for my exams as thoroughly as I should have–barely at all–and still passing them. I do occasionally, like right now, feel guilty about my ability to get by, but more importantly,  I think I am disgusted at my apathy. I assume one day my ability to get by will cease to exist, and then I will be stuck not knowing how to do it any other way. I just want to finish school, to get a job, and to do what I think I love, which is teaching, though sometimes I still wrestle with what I perceive to be my calling into ministry. What am I doing with that?

Really, I just want to find what it is that makes me happy. I think it is teaching. I love it when I am teaching, but can I see myself doing it forever? Yeah. But, I want to sense that passion that I see in other people for doing what they love. I want to be in a position where I can do what I love and not worry if it makes money. I suppose that is what everyone wants. I guess I am not finished stressing about any of this, but I have just added more stress on top of it. And, as always, I have shoved it all down so I don’t have to deal with it. I suppose one day I will explode. Then I will really look like a puddle of yuck by the side of the road.

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I am struggling right now with being a Christian and not liking my pastor. I feel sort of shallow for disliking him, because he hasn’t really done anything wrong. He just doesn’t wrestle with the text in an intellectual way. He processes it emotionally and thinks it is okay to stop there. I want a pastor who stresses himself or herself out over a reading of Scripture that s/he can live with, not who moves solely by emotion to interpret it. I want exegesis and hermeneautics. You know, intellectual wrangling, cultural application, and faithful interpretations. I don’t want Muppet videos, funny voices, and jumping up and down. I can get excited about a life-changing, hierarchy-smashing ethic without fireworks. If God’s word doesn’t have the power to change and shape my heart and my mind, no amount of emotion is going to either.

Does this mean I am above emotional response to Scripture? By no means. I simply mean that I don’t think hearts are changed through emotive blasts of performance, but they are changed by the Truth of the words spoken. If the words spoken contain few Truths, it doesn’t matter how excitedly they are spoken. If the words are empty, they bang hollow off the back wall of the church and resound slowly around the room. Their hollowness is not masked by their magnitude or frequency. They are still just words.

So, please give me solid spiritual food. I am finished with the milk. Or am I? Maybe this is my problem: I am not finished with the milk. I am still trying to figure out whether I follow Paul or Apollos. As Paul writes:

Brothers and sisters, I could not address you as spiritual but as worldly—mere infants in Christ. I gave you milk, not solid food, for you were not yet ready for it. Indeed, you are still not ready. You are still worldly. For since there is jealousy and quarreling among you, are you not worldly? Are you not acting like mere human beings? For when one says, “I follow Paul,” and another, “I follow Apollos,” are you not mere human beings?

Is this my problem? Am I still so worried about the human I follow that I deserve to still drink milk? Maybe, my goal in addressing this problem should be changing my own attitude about it, rather than expecting some type of external change. After all, it makes Bec happy to help lead worship, so I guess I should try to change my own heart before bailing out. I should change my heart to follow Jesus rather than being so needy and leaning on a man who is merely God’s servant. I am sure he is trying to do what he thinks is best. I am sure there those who didn’t like Paul, Peter, Apollos, James or any of the other apostles or early teachers of Christianity, but their dislike for their human leaders did not dissuade them from being part of the Church.

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At times like these, I am especially grateful for my relatively new athletic endeavors.

Swimming is going well. Last night, I swam 1000 yards in under twenty minutes, which isn’t bad for me. I was going to time myself on a mile, but I didn’t have much time to swim because I had to get a ride from Bec. I didn’t ride my bike yesterday because my bag was too heavy, and I didn’t want to walk home in the dark. Still, I swam 1600 yards in about 35 minutes. That should count for something.

Running is going okay. I ran five and a half miles yesterday, and I am scheduled to run the same tomorrow morning. After I ran yesterday, my feet felt like I had been hitting the bottoms of them with a hammer. I need new shoes, so I will go get those since I finally got paid. I hope they have a pair of the same ones I got last time. If they do, I will just buy them so I don’t have to try on a bunch of new ones. I could really use new trail shoes, too, but I only have enough money for one pair.

On Sunday, I am going to run with Adam. We are going to run the five miles that we will run together in a race on November 1. Apparently, the race is grueling and Adam wants me to run the trails before race day. Either way, I am running it. I may come in last, but I will finish. If I have to walk, I will finish. The race and practice run should be good times. And good stress release.I am surprised I don’t run more, fueled by my stress.

This I Believe Draft

I have been called a communist. I have been called a socialist. I think communalist or Christian describes me more accurately than either of the other two words. But I won’t balk if anyone calls me a communist or socialist.  I embrace these two names because of the things I believe.

Because I believe that people are inherently good, I believe we could easily live together in harmony if people were willing to do a few things differently. In other words, we need to make some cultural lifestyle changes. People are generally out for themselves because our culture forces them to be. Deep down everyone is generous.  Some cultures thrive by living in community; ours just happens to be more focused on individualism. However, a few small changes could cause big ripples.

I believe we should listen when other people talk. I had a professor who once said to someone in class, “Could you start over? I forgot to listen.” I think he was being honest about a behavior that many of us suffer from on a daily basis: we don’t listen to each other. Instead of having the decency, though, to admit that we forget to listen, we pretend that we are listening all along. Sometimes we even nod our heads as if we agree with the other person, not knowing what it is we’re agreeing to. If we, as humans, truly listened to each other instead of writing our shopping lists, planning our evenings, or thinking about that joke that someone told us earlier, then the world would be much less chaotic because we would all know what other people said instead of pretending like we do. We might also learn something about other people, which in turn might make us more compassionate.

Maybe this could be partially aided if people would return to using common courtesies in their speech, like saying please and thank you. It wouldn’t hurt if we would take the time to answer the question, “How are you?” with an honest answer instead of giving the answer that everyone expects: “Fine.” One day I want to say to someone, “I am not fine. I am dying inside and my soul hurts so bad.” And I want that to be okay. I want to be able to tell people when I struggle, but I also believe we should rejoice when there is reason for rejoicing. Life is good sometimes, most times if we try hard to see the joys. We should be able to celebrate the good and lament the bad together.

I believe part of this inability to connect to other people stems from the fact that we are too in love with our possessions. Especially as Americans, we love our technology, our cars, our houses, our gadgets, and gizmos. Perhaps if we were required each year to donate our one prized possession to a homeless shelter, domestic violence shelter, or children’s home, we would understand that the things are not where our attachments should lie, but that we should become more deeply invested in each other.

If your child could take his favorite toy, donate it to another child who lives in a homeless shelter, build a relationship with that other child, and see what it feels like to be involved in another persons life, maybe we could teach our children that the world doesn’t belong to them as individuals, but it belongs to them as a society. If you would take your computer (before it completely conks out) and donate it to a battered woman who is trying to get a job to get out of her abusive household, imagine the change in her life. Maybe you even have a great business suit you could include in the package. Something as simple as saving your hotel shampoo, lotion, and soap and giving it to men’s shelter makes a big impact in someone’s life. Have you ever tried to get a job without proper bodily hygiene?  Nearly impossible.

This is why I believe in feeding homeless people: we are one bad day from the fifth floor of the VA hospital. Most of us are one bad day from homelessness, too. What happens today on Wall Street could effect you, it could effect me, or it could effect someone we know. How many homeless people are living on the streets because of one bad day? This isn’t to say that some people don’t choose homelessness. Some do. Some people consciously choose to drop out of capitalism, drop out of society, or just fade into the background. I don’t blame them. All the keeping up is hard work. Never walk past another person without making eye contact. You are no better than the teenager with scars up and down his arms, living on the street. We are all  interconnected.

Maybe we should all eat out of dumpsters. Then we could look each other in the eyes. Maybe it is a blessing that we throw away too much. No, it is heresy. We could feed a small country with what we put in the garbage can each day. Each day Americans throw away more than most people eat in a week.  We should all be more frugal.  When I was in high school, my boyfriend and I dumpster dived many times. We foraged–no, gleaned–potato chips from the dumpster behind the Seyfert’s distribution center and sold them at lunch. We used the money to pay for dates, movies, and other things we wanted but didn’t have money for. Looking back, we probably should have just given the chips away and not worried about getting money for them. We didn’t disrupt the capitalist cycle, we just reinvented it.

Maybe I am communist, because I think all people should get paid the same amount of money. The big corporate executive would be nowhere without the people who work in her factories or retail centers, and they would all be no where without the person who cleans up after them all. Where would most people be without coffee farmers, trash collectors, ministers, rabbis, and teachers? Are professional sports and big-name actors or actresses of more worth than their elementary organization sponsors? If we all got paid the same amount for doing what we are good at, then we could go about doing those things without feeling the pressure of keeping up with the Joneses, never mind that the Joneses work no harder for their possessions than we do. I suppose if we weren’t obsessed with possessions, we wouldn’t care if we couldn’t keep up with the Joneses, though.

I believe no one should look at you funny if you make change out of the offering plate at church. God doesn’t care if you only have a twenty but can only afford to give up five for the Church. God cares more that you are giving something than nothing. Remember the story of the poor widow’s mite.  God will multiply your five dollars and use it to feed and clothe the masses. Haven’t you ever read the story of the loaves and the fishes?

That story, I will add, confirms what I have been writing: life is all about sharing, gleaning, feeding, and giving what you have to others. Call it communism if you must. I will call it being like Christ.

Randomness at the Library

I am sitting in the library getting increasingly more irritated with the fact that I can’t find the articles I need, so I am taking a break to write. The summer keeps slipping through my fingers at an alarming rate. I grow more anxious about comps everyday. Because I am still working on my assistantship, I feel like I don’t have adequate time to study. I am in a snarky mood today, which results in my being annoyed by things that usually wouldn’t bother me: the girl down the row of computers in the library who won’t stop talking on the phone or go downstairs to get headphones for her computers so that we all don’t have to listen to Brittany Spears, the guy who is sitting across from me who keeps walking back and forth to talk with his child who isn’t sitting next to him which would make things way easier, and the fact that I can smell my feet-stink wafting up from my damn Tevas that always smell so bad. I started the day well, too. I don’t understand it. I walked the dogs, had coffee with a friend, and went for a bike ride. For breakfast I had a banana, strawberries, yogurt, juice, and peppermint tea. How could a day that starts so beautifully render me snarky? Your guess is as good as mine. But it sometimes happens. Yesterday, I ran and walked about six and a half miles. My hips hurt last night, but they are fine today so that isn’t it.

I am listening to Pandora, and Aimee Mann’s “Wise Up” just came on. I have never heard her before, but I can see why my friends keep telling me I would like her. I do. If you create a Indigo Girls station, you will get some pretty good new music suggestions.

Since the last time I wrote, we had a big Fourth of July celebration at our house. We can see the fireworks from our front porch, so it is nice to have people come by and have dinner and then watch the city ofo Muncie spend way too much on explosives. This year—this is ironic because we just closed one fire station and laid off twelve fire-fighters—Muncie almost didn’t have fireworks because there weren’t any available fire trucks to cover the show. In Muncie, if there is no fire truck, there are no fireworks. That would have been just desserts for the mayor in my opinion. I am sure she would have had to do more than carry her gun and have the Star Press write an article about her and her gun. I wonder how many firefighters’ jobs could have been saved with the money used to buy the fireworks.

Now Ani Difranco is singing “School Night” from one of my favorite of her albums, Revelling/Reckoning. I am jealous because my friend Amy got to go see her in Los Angeles. She said it was like a patchouli-hemp sandwich in the auditorium. Of course it was; I am her typical fan. I think all of her fans are slightly granola. Mmm.

See the similarities?

My Uncle George (Godfather) :n1251372731_30108455_1758506

Wallace Shawn (Vizzini):040308WallaceShawn

Myrtle Beach Photos and Mom’s Birthday

Today is my mother’s birthday, and she doesn’t know it yet, but we are taking her out dinner tonight. I am on my way to the store to buy her a cake (under the auspices of buying bananas for breakfast and vinegar for my brother’s lobster back). He and William are both very sunburnt, so I assume they will be in a great deal of pain tonight. They both blamed it on the sunscreen: it made them burn. Yeah, right.

Anyway, here are some pictures courtesy of Adam’s hard drive: