Category Archives: Writing

Okay, I lied.

I can’t keep from writing here. I mean this is where I sort out my ideas, and think about the things that mean the most to me: God and grace, literature, friends and family, beer, food, and exercise.

I have been thinking for the past few weeks, while I have been on my little writing hiatus and only posting links, that I needed to figure out what my mission is. Yeah, I know, I am thirty-five and just trying to do that. Seriously, Jesus was only 33 when his earthly mission ended and the spiritual one took over, but I think that is the point. We are supposed to marry our earthly and spiritual missions. For us, because of what Jesus did on the cross and who he was in this world, they go hand in hand. Together. He didn’t live a secular life and spiritual life, so why should we?

My work here, is proof of my spirituality. It is proof of where my heart lies. My heart lies with Jesus, so my life should look like it. My life should evidence his grace.

Yesterday I started a bodily cleansing. I am purging processed foods, sugars, and extra caffeine from my diet. I am making a conscious effort to walk or ride my bike everywhere. I am trying not to take the bus. I am doing this because I realize that my body is not healthy and it needs to be.

Today, I began a spiritual purge. I started a plan to read the whole Bible in one year, which will be a first. I think I have read all of it, but never straight through and never in one year. I think this plan will work because it skips around throughout the text, so I won’t get bogged down in Isaiah or Jeremiah. I am also trying to focus intently on maintaining my commitment to thinking positively.

I am a woman of cyclic intention, so I hope that I can sustain this new lifestyle. With God’s grace, I know I can. Changing my dissertation topic seems helpful.

It’s been such a long time…

I am not sure if I actually remember how to write—here or anywhere else. My last post that contained any actual writing was on April 22, and since then, I must confess, I have only done writing that I had to do for school. Since April 22, I have completed a fake application packet and an annotated bibliography that had something like 60 or so sources on it. While it wasn’t much writing, not like the usual three seminar papers at the end of the semester, the two assignments were a little nerve-wracking because they were the last two of the last semester of coursework for my terminal degree. I wanted to go out well, and I did. I was pleased with my grades.

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Not surprisingly, I have frequently been thinking about grace and peace. I just read a story, in Reader’s Digest of all places, about an older man who owned one of the first integrated textile mills in South Carolina.  When his worker’s complained that the factory was integrated, his response was this: “You are getting paid twice what any other textile workers are getting paid. If you don’t like, you can always work somewhere else.” They all stayed. The grace I find in Sandor Teszler‘s story amazes me. God’s grace and human grace commingle with honesty to make this man another person to look up to.

Given his life story, I think it is remarkable that Teszler lived by the  conviction that all people are inherently good, and I agree. I think that somewhere, deep-down, everyone is good. I have to believe this because God keeps putting people in my life that both make me doubt this and who reaffirm this for me.

I am sitting in the Blue Bottle writing this and I am watching the acts of grace unfold around me. A woman who is blind was escorted in by one of the MITS Plus drivers, who seated her and then alerted the staff that she might need some assistance. The driver calls her by name, Jenny, and pats her on her back before she leaves. Then the girl who works here comes to take her order. She sits across the table from Jenny and reads the entire menu for her, places her order, and when the food is done, brings her plate, puts it in front of her, and explains that the sandwich is very hot. She tells her where the food is located on the plate. Not many places, or many people, care enough to provide such service to their patrons with disabilities. The bus driver comes back while Jenny is waiting for her coffee to go, so she waits and then lets Jenny take her by the arm. They walk to bus together.

On this same spiritual front, trying to think positively is going well. It seems to make less stressful when I can do it. However, I am still trying to keep myself from getting sucked back into the negative vortex that I was in for most of the school-year this year. I just wrote on a friend’s blog that it seems like once I get one thing in my spiritual life straight, I find another that I need to work on. Sometimes I get annoyed that I can’t get it all right all at once, and sometimes, I get annoyed that I can’t even get part of it right, part of the time. But I do have hope.

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I was going to start studying for comps today, but I decided to give myself this week to relax, read, and write. I have tons of studying to do, because I am not overly familiar with any time period outside my own. I mean I could probably mention a couple of texts in each time period, but to be able to write a cohesive essay using any of them, is a little out my comfort range.

Here is the planned schedule for this summer, because I know some people will want to know:

From May 18 through June 19 (with the exception of June 6-13 because I will be on vacation with the family), I will use all day Tuesday and Thursday and part of the day on Saturday and Sunday to study for comps. On Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, I will work on my assistantship.

From June 22 through August 14 (with the exception of July 25-31 because I will be on vacation with Merideth), I will study while Bec is at work and use the lovely Daylight Savings Time—light until midnight—to paint the house. Probably the weekends will work well to pull up the carpet and to allow myself to have a little bit of fun. I think we can pull it up room by room, and the pain-in-the-ass part will be removing all of the staples.  Augh! Good thing we have friends and neighbors for that!

Grace-Filled Moments

Please respond with a moment of grace that you have experienced or given. Or post your favorite quote about or articulation of grace.

Reading. Baking. Flying. Grace.

Tonight is our annual graduate student creative writing reading, Penscape. Wow! That is a mouthful. Anyway. I am reading along with nine or ten of my colleagues. It will be good. It has to be good. Each of us were asked to read for ten to twelve minutes. I am reading three flash nonfiction pieces, a letter, and a poem. Sort of a mixed bag. I hope people read somethings we all haven’t already read or heard. I always hate it when that happens. You workshop with people and then you get to hear all those same pieces again. I mean, it is pretty cool to see how they revised, but it isn’t cool if it is the same piece you already read.

Two nights ago I spent about four hours baking. One of my professor’s kids is severely allergic to everything. By everything I mean eggs, dairy, and nuts, so I had fun making many snacks that she could partake in. We are also having punch. You know that Hawaiian Punch, Ginger Ale, Sherbet fiasco that they serve at every gathering everywhere until people are old enough to drink beer. That’s the punch! I think there will be some coffee too.

I think the baking runs in the genes, because my mom is baking her fool head off this afternoon. One of her friends asked her to make cookies to use as the favors for her wedding. My mom is making 150 chocolate chip cookies and 150 peanut butter cookies. Right now.

Tomorrow we leave to go to Minneapolis for Andy and Claire’s wedding. Not only do I get to leave Muncie for a few days, I get to spend it with people I don’t see very frequently. I don’t like to fly. I will never fly on United again. It is official: they are charging fat people more for their seats.

I am working on some new writing. Trying to write an essay about grace is hard. Really. Hard. I am going to ask people to post their most grace-filled moments as responses on a special post here. Maybe I will tell them they can send them by email, too. But I want this essay to reflect all types of faiths and non-faiths and the way they exhibit grace. I know what grace should look like in a Christian ethic. I wonder what it looks like in the secular world for people who don’t share my beliefs. I mean I know some stories, but I hope that people will share theirs.

Also, my dissertation has taken on new form. I hope to write about the preaching woman, the food-serving woman, and the way they both implement a certain morality or ethic of grace and redemption in slave-narratives. Every time I articulate my ideas they become more concrete. which makes me happy. Now to press on and find the “so-what” in that, Lauren.

Flexibility. Ah.

Up Again So Soon … Still Recovering in Twelve Steps

I am awake. It is 2:23 AM. I am watching King of the Hill. I love my life. I think I will stay up for another hour and a half so I can watch Roseanne. Then I will go to bed and sleep until noon … which never happened. I didn’t sleep until noon. I slept until 6 then slept again from 8 to 11. And, I am still recuperating from that little overnight shenanigan in twelve steps. These twelve steps would not be followed if Izzy lived with me. 🙂

  1. I admitted that I am powerless over sleep deprivation—my life had become unmanageable. I couldn’t remember anything about what I was doing or saying.
  2. I came to believe that beer could restore me to sanity. Beer can always restore.
  3. I decided to turn my will and my life over to multiple helpings of that specific elixir, choosing hops, yeast, and malt over the newly discovered bliss of Aquavit.
  4. I made a searching and fearless moral inventory of myself. I was weary and worn. I decided to drink.
  5. I admitted to the bottom of the first pint the exact nature of my wrongs: I stayed up for far too long. I admitted my desire for sleep to the bottom of another pint and another and another and another and another and another, and then I admitted these wrongs to all those around me. Loudly and slurred. I am shleeeppyyy, I said before I slipped into unconsciousness.
  6. I was ready to have my sleep restored to me. I wanted my sleep to be restored to me.
  7. I humbly asked the bartender to facilitate my eventual sleep—I put my insomnia in his hands.
  8. I made a list of all the beers which had harmed me, and became willing to make amends to them all.
  9. I made quick amends to the beers I loved and was kept from injury by two angels—one flaxen, one titian, both Southern—who escorted me home.
  10. Once I was safe, I continued to take personal inventory of my level of alertness, to reassess my evening consumption, and to hope for the veil of sleep.
  11. I sought through prayer and meditation to improve my conscious contact with God as I understand [Them], praying only for knowledge of [Their] will for me and the power to carry that out.
  12. Having had a spiritual awakening as the result of these steps, I tried to carry this message to insomniacs, and to practice these principles in all my affairs. I especially thanked my caretakers and nursed my bumpy head.

Seriously, I have been so busy, I haven’t even been able to write here. I continue to feel guilty but simultaneously fulfilled with my level activity. I feel guilty because I cannot make last minute plans with people. I am simply to busy to squeeze people into the schedule.

A friend of mine and I were supposed to get together today, but she had to go to South Bend. She asked me earlier in the week if we could get together another time in the week, and after I checked my calendar, I had to write to her to say that there simply were no other days we could meet. I literally had a school function, studying, or some other thing going on every single day.

Several days in the past three weks I have had twelve or thirteen hour long days, and the day that sparked the twelve-step list was a 20 hour day: I got up at 6AM and worked until 2AM the next morning. Really.

I am fulfilled because I have never been happier with the work I am doing. My assistantship with all of its oddities is the best one I have had. My courses are plodding along well, and I am continually challenged by my directed reading and the Morrison class. Ideas for my dissertation are ruminating nicely inside my too full head, and I am sated by the information with which I am gorging my hungry mind. Jasbir Puar, I will understand your writing one day.

In my spare time, I learned that my neighborhood grocery store should be receiving six-packs of glass bottles of Faygo, but that if I want to order a 24-pack of cans of Faygo, it will cost $15 to get it delivered to my house. This would, of course, be a moot point if my neighborhood grocery would just carry Rock-n-Rye Cream Cola. Not diet. I despise Diet Cola. If I wanted zero calories, I would just drink water.

My brother and I are going to Nashville this weekend for a little break, so I hope to be able to access this site to report on our activities. I am sure we will haev fun. I know for sure we are going to Jungle Jim’s in Cincinnati on the way home, and we are going to the Apple store to get his new computer. I am excited to be away for a bit.