Last night, I had a Restaurant dream. Or should I say nightmare. Oy veh. I don't know why I dreamt about them last night, but I did. Maybe it's because I've worked for money recently, and so my subconscious got hung back up at Restaurant. Here's the dream:
I was back there to work for a Friday night. However, my co-waitress was one who quit A LONG time ago due to the bosses ticking her off. Anyway, she was waiting tables with me because on Friday nights, there are two wait staff people on.
When I got to Restaurant, we were putting the salad bar together. That means that you go up to the walk-in cooler and scoop salads like marinated carrots, potato salad, cole salad, three bean salad, etc into these rectangle pans and then put them on the ice that fills the salad bar bottom. It's the waitresses job to do this. So, I was scooping out a pan of marinated carrots when the other waitress stopped helping me. So, I finished putting the salads into pans and then finally went out to the dining room where customers were already filling the place up! All of a sudden, the hostess was there, which was weird because wait staff gets there a good hour before everyone else in order to put the place together. But, the hostess was there, and it was weird because she also hasn't worked there for a really, really long time. She quit maybe 8 or 9 years ago.
So, I looked at the piece of paper that tells each waitress which tables are theirs. I had a bunch of tables, one being the "big" table toward the other end of the restaurant. It seats about 8 or 9 people. I also had "R4" which is bizarre, because Restaurant doesn't have an "R4" table. R3 is the last R table, and that's the 9 seater.
So, I went off to wait on the first tables I had because the big table was later down the list. But, I realized I had no idea what table R4 was. So, I had to turn around and ask the hostess which table it was. She told me that it was out in the bar room, where people generally WAIT to be seated. So, on my way out there, the people at my big table waved at me like, "Get your butt over here! We're ready to order!"
But, I had to go in order. So, I went to R4 and it was a 2 top that were regulars when I really was a waitress there. It was an old man and his son in law. They ordered their food and I forgot to ask the old man what he wanted to drink, so I went back and asked, but the son in law who only wanted water to drink was replaced by this woman who said, "I didn't want water! I wanted apple sauce!" So, I went to the kitchen right away, again forgetting to ask the old man what he wanted to drink. I told the female boss, who is also the main cook that I needed some apple sauce for this woman to drink. The boss was like, "WHAATTT! We don't serve apple sauce to drink!" But then, she started looking all around for it like she was going to accomodate this woman's request. And she TOOK FOREVER to look for it. She even put her hand in the tortellini that sit in the cooler, waiting to be heated for orders. All the while I'm thinking, "Hurry up! I have tables piling up on me out there!" So finally, the boss says, "We don't have any."
So, I went back into the dining room to get some decaf coffee made because the old man always drank decaf coffee. I figured that this way, at least one person wouldn't have to wait FOREVER to get their drink or be told we didn't have what they wanted. However, as I got to the coffee maker, I saw that it was broken. The other host who does still work there came out carrying this other coffeemaker and said, "I need to hook this up. The old one is broken."
Then, I went over to the table and said, "I never asked you what you wanted to drink." The old man said, "Water's fine with me." That made me think, "Dammit! I wasted more time!" So, I had more and more tables piling up on me, and the big table was back there being impatient. When I really worked at Restaurant, I hated waiting on that table because it was time consuming and I sucked at carrying lots of plates at once, considering Restaurant doesn't use big serving trays.
The dream didn't go on for much longer than that. But the basic gist of it was that I was super behind and couldn't catch up, and the female boss was being psychotic at me and taking forever and not being efficient, but was blaming that on me. So, I actually woke up, almost hyperventilating. It was not pleasant.
I guess maybe my brain is still processing out the experiences and baggage that I have from having worked there for so long and being treated like I was sometimes (although, many of the waitresses, hosts, salad bar keepers, bussers, and dishwashers were treated poorly, too, at times). It's actually kind of odd, because as I sit here thinking about the dream and about the reality that was Restaurant, my heart is racing a little. Crazy. Oy veh. Anyway, that is my dream, proudly brought to you by my imagination/subconscious, the letter "T," and my brand new laptop that got here Monday. Yeehaw. Have a great day.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Monday, June 23, 2008
I'm slightly excited
Why, you may ask? Because, I got confirmation Saturday that Dell has shipped my new computer. Soon and very soon, I will have a laptop of my very own, and J will be able to take his back and not have to share it with his crazy, Internet-needing g/f. Ha. So, that's exciting for me.
I also attended my first ever ordination tonight, which was cool. The ordinand chose some AWESOME music. I was super impressed with his selections. Plus, it was just neat to see a service like that. The guy who was ordained is a neat chap, and he has a call, which is good because he and his wife are going to have a baby in just a little more than a month. Congrats and peace to them.
I also finished reading "Lamb, the Gospel According to Biff, Christ's Childhood Pal." I recommend the book whole-heartedly. It was amusing, and I got the sense that although it was fiction and what not, the author tried to treat the subject matter with respect. I read the afterword, which deepened my belief that he was not being a jerk about what he had written. The book really made me think a lot, and I have several more blogging ideas written down on my sheet of "stuff I need to remember."
I'm now reading, "The Gospel According to the Son." It's not a funny book, but it's going along quite smartly because the chapters are really short, and it's pretty straight-forward. Some of the language is really old and odd, but that's okay. I get the points he is trying to make.
I'm going home to stay for a while next Saturday. Pastor's "other" church is going to start having a contemporary worship on the last Saturday of the month during June, July, and August, and I'm interested in what it will be like. Also, I need to watch Howard and Sunscreen during July while their normal babysitter and her husband are on vacation in Florida.
Oh! And in reflecting on this month, I am happy to report that I have felt quite useful for several days. Not only did I do roofing/shingling/and yardwork at a seminary friend's house, I also was asked by someone in Admissions to take a prospective student to lunch and a driving tour of the town. I did that on a gorgeous day, and we also went to see a movie: Kung Fu Panda. I wouldn't have chosen it on my own, but it was fairly entertaining. I'm just happy because I got to do things that are valuable. Weehaw. Good times.
Anyway, I need to go to bed. I've not slept well the past couple of nights. I don't know what it is. The air conditioning vent in my room has been making weird noises when it comes on, but I don't know if the squeaking would be enough to wake me up or not. Maybe my mind is just processing things. Who knows?
Have a delightful day. I hope that it is sunny and warm where you are. Happy Summer.
I also attended my first ever ordination tonight, which was cool. The ordinand chose some AWESOME music. I was super impressed with his selections. Plus, it was just neat to see a service like that. The guy who was ordained is a neat chap, and he has a call, which is good because he and his wife are going to have a baby in just a little more than a month. Congrats and peace to them.
I also finished reading "Lamb, the Gospel According to Biff, Christ's Childhood Pal." I recommend the book whole-heartedly. It was amusing, and I got the sense that although it was fiction and what not, the author tried to treat the subject matter with respect. I read the afterword, which deepened my belief that he was not being a jerk about what he had written. The book really made me think a lot, and I have several more blogging ideas written down on my sheet of "stuff I need to remember."
I'm now reading, "The Gospel According to the Son." It's not a funny book, but it's going along quite smartly because the chapters are really short, and it's pretty straight-forward. Some of the language is really old and odd, but that's okay. I get the points he is trying to make.
I'm going home to stay for a while next Saturday. Pastor's "other" church is going to start having a contemporary worship on the last Saturday of the month during June, July, and August, and I'm interested in what it will be like. Also, I need to watch Howard and Sunscreen during July while their normal babysitter and her husband are on vacation in Florida.
Oh! And in reflecting on this month, I am happy to report that I have felt quite useful for several days. Not only did I do roofing/shingling/and yardwork at a seminary friend's house, I also was asked by someone in Admissions to take a prospective student to lunch and a driving tour of the town. I did that on a gorgeous day, and we also went to see a movie: Kung Fu Panda. I wouldn't have chosen it on my own, but it was fairly entertaining. I'm just happy because I got to do things that are valuable. Weehaw. Good times.
Anyway, I need to go to bed. I've not slept well the past couple of nights. I don't know what it is. The air conditioning vent in my room has been making weird noises when it comes on, but I don't know if the squeaking would be enough to wake me up or not. Maybe my mind is just processing things. Who knows?
Have a delightful day. I hope that it is sunny and warm where you are. Happy Summer.
Thursday, June 19, 2008
A quick thought...
There is a saying out there, I think it began in Buddhism, but I'm not sure. It says, "Life is suffering."
This line was in "Lamb," and it got me thinking. Does it mean that life (as a state of being)=suffering? Or, could it mean that the people and creatures that have life in them are suffering? There's a difference. The first one is more of an individualistic thing. When I live, I am suffering (some times more than others, as I can imagine is the case with everyone). That's the nature of life. It can't be perfect because we live in a fallen and broken world. I think there is an inate goodness in most people, but I also think that there is hatred and contempt and meanness in the world, too.
The latter explanation for "Life is suffering," is one that takes into account all people, creatures, plants, and everything that lives. Life is the noun of everything that lives in this sense. we all are suffering under the weight of our own shortcomings and those of others. Life all around us suffers, not in an individual way, but in a way that unites us with each other in strife, in pain, and in humiliation.
So, honestly, I think that Life=suffering could be both. Since I'm fond of thinking in relation to communities, I'm more apt to think about the second explanation. And in this, it is interesting to me to think about Christ coming to live among us. Life (in the individual sense) for him became suffering. The eternal Word that came and lived in Jesus experienced what humanity faces all the time. Senselessness. Pain. Grief. Jesus was beaten and executed like a criminal. Life for him was suffering.
And then, on the other hand, Christ came because of the collective suffering of all of humanity; lost in its own wilderness. Jesus, why did you come to Earth? Because the people and creatures of this planet suffer. Because Jesus could offer something, not necessarily to make life easier or more pleasant, but because of love. And love makes hardships easier to bear.
As Christians are called to show Christ to the world in word and deed, may we find our call as ones to bear hardship with others, to carry burdens with those we encounter, to love those in our midst who are friendless and outcast, knowing that life is suffering.
This line was in "Lamb," and it got me thinking. Does it mean that life (as a state of being)=suffering? Or, could it mean that the people and creatures that have life in them are suffering? There's a difference. The first one is more of an individualistic thing. When I live, I am suffering (some times more than others, as I can imagine is the case with everyone). That's the nature of life. It can't be perfect because we live in a fallen and broken world. I think there is an inate goodness in most people, but I also think that there is hatred and contempt and meanness in the world, too.
The latter explanation for "Life is suffering," is one that takes into account all people, creatures, plants, and everything that lives. Life is the noun of everything that lives in this sense. we all are suffering under the weight of our own shortcomings and those of others. Life all around us suffers, not in an individual way, but in a way that unites us with each other in strife, in pain, and in humiliation.
So, honestly, I think that Life=suffering could be both. Since I'm fond of thinking in relation to communities, I'm more apt to think about the second explanation. And in this, it is interesting to me to think about Christ coming to live among us. Life (in the individual sense) for him became suffering. The eternal Word that came and lived in Jesus experienced what humanity faces all the time. Senselessness. Pain. Grief. Jesus was beaten and executed like a criminal. Life for him was suffering.
And then, on the other hand, Christ came because of the collective suffering of all of humanity; lost in its own wilderness. Jesus, why did you come to Earth? Because the people and creatures of this planet suffer. Because Jesus could offer something, not necessarily to make life easier or more pleasant, but because of love. And love makes hardships easier to bear.
As Christians are called to show Christ to the world in word and deed, may we find our call as ones to bear hardship with others, to carry burdens with those we encounter, to love those in our midst who are friendless and outcast, knowing that life is suffering.
And so it came to pass...
That Grandma went back to the home. That woman is like a bouncy ball. She can recuperate like nobody's business. Thank you for any and all prayers you said for her.
Anyway, what have I been up to? Oh, not too much. J and I watched "All Dogs Go To Heaven" on the 17th of this month. We were in the mood for nostalgia or something. Gotta love the Old School movies. Yeah.
I'm still reading "Lamb," and I am enjoying it thoroughly. There are some holes to it and what not, but it's fiction. And the things I'm finding are relatively small. And the overall awesomeness of the book makes up for them. Seriously, I suggest this book. It's a bit long, but it's an easy read.
The flood waters seem to be receeding a little bit where we are. A friend of mine and her husband, (who I also consider a friend) were evacuated, but I think they were able to go back and see what was up today. Here's hoping and praying things aren't as bad as they could be.
Well, I am going to stop writing this post, since it is just little blurbs about what is up. I'm going to post a "thinking" post soon, probably. Peace out.
Anyway, what have I been up to? Oh, not too much. J and I watched "All Dogs Go To Heaven" on the 17th of this month. We were in the mood for nostalgia or something. Gotta love the Old School movies. Yeah.
I'm still reading "Lamb," and I am enjoying it thoroughly. There are some holes to it and what not, but it's fiction. And the things I'm finding are relatively small. And the overall awesomeness of the book makes up for them. Seriously, I suggest this book. It's a bit long, but it's an easy read.
The flood waters seem to be receeding a little bit where we are. A friend of mine and her husband, (who I also consider a friend) were evacuated, but I think they were able to go back and see what was up today. Here's hoping and praying things aren't as bad as they could be.
Well, I am going to stop writing this post, since it is just little blurbs about what is up. I'm going to post a "thinking" post soon, probably. Peace out.
Monday, June 16, 2008
Well, shoot.
YS called me this morning. She said that Grandma is in the hospital again. She had a heart attack, and now she has those germs that are really had to treat (MRCA, aka Merca). I think they're planning on sending her back to the home soon, but I'm not sure. Sis and YS are going to visit tonight. They're goin to have to gown up because of the germs, but they're going. Makes me glad I visited Granny the last time I was in town. I love my Grandma. A lot. I thought it was kinda jerky that my OB didn't call and let me know, but whatever.
BiL also threw Sis a surprise birthday party that they forgot to invite me to. Thanks a frickin' lot. Jeez. Howard (who is 2), was having a good time because the party was at the bowling alley where BiL and Sis do league bowling. Howard was picking up 14 lb balls and trying to roll them down the lane. The way it sounded, he was being really cute. Sis and BiL want to take him bowling someday soon so he'll learn a bit about it and not try to walk down the lanes, messing up the oil patterns and stuff. I wish I would have known about the party, but I didn't, so I guess I need to get over it. Slightly irked, but oh well. I'll live.
Anyway, if you would, I'd sincerely appreciate your prayers for Grandma; for peace, strength, and comfort, or whatever you see fit to pray for. I trust you. I'm out.
BiL also threw Sis a surprise birthday party that they forgot to invite me to. Thanks a frickin' lot. Jeez. Howard (who is 2), was having a good time because the party was at the bowling alley where BiL and Sis do league bowling. Howard was picking up 14 lb balls and trying to roll them down the lane. The way it sounded, he was being really cute. Sis and BiL want to take him bowling someday soon so he'll learn a bit about it and not try to walk down the lanes, messing up the oil patterns and stuff. I wish I would have known about the party, but I didn't, so I guess I need to get over it. Slightly irked, but oh well. I'll live.
Anyway, if you would, I'd sincerely appreciate your prayers for Grandma; for peace, strength, and comfort, or whatever you see fit to pray for. I trust you. I'm out.
I didn't lie
So, I said in my last post that I have lots of ideas for new posts. It's true, but this post is not any of those ideas. It is just me rambling.
J loaned me his laptop because he works at night on the weekends. I appreciate having a computer to use in the privacy of my own room. It's not like I'm doing anything inappropriate, but it's nice to be able to check my email and do Facebook and stuff whenever I want (at night) and not have to worry about the library closing and people all looking over my shoulder and what not (not like they would; I'm just paranoid). I ordered my new computer, and I think that it might be down at the FedEx depot or something. I'm not 100% sure, but it's possible because there was a taped message from them on the big doors leading into the main academic building the other day. That makes me think that it might be my new laptop. I hope so.
Anyway, I'm reading another book right now. It's called, "Lamb: The Gospel According to Biff, Christ's Childhood Pal." It's a pretty funny book. I like it a lot. It's about this guy who gets called forth from the dust of the earth 2000 years after his life and death so that he can write a Gospel of what Jesus was like as a kid. The man who was brought forth is Jesus' best childhood friend. While it's not a thing like the Canonical Scriptures, and it's fiction, it's still a good read because it just is. I can't quite put my finger on why I like it, but I do. It's funny, the author obviously researched and thought about what he was writing, and it's wholly entertaining. So far, I recommend it. Anyone out there had the pleasure of reading this book? And if so, what'd you think of it?
Okay, well, this has been a pretty light post. I need to find the sheet of paper I was writing my blogging ideas on so that I can remember what I was thinking. I've been thinking about a lot of things lately, and so no one idea is sticking in my head.
Oh yeah! And I got to see a good friend of mine today! She was heading home after having been evacuated because of the flooding. She and her husband were going from her mom and dad's house to her husband's Mom's place. They had to go through SeminaryTown due to a detour in a major road, and so called to meet up for lunch. I had a good time, and was so thankful to get to spend time with my pals. Pals are cool. So, thanks for stopping through and calling us, Friend! yay!
Last, but not least, I wanted to write a little bit about last week's sermon. The Gospel Lesson was Matthew 9:9-13; and 18-26. The pastor at the church I attend out here focused a bit on the Pharisees and how they talked about Jesus eating with tax collectors and sinners. In the course of his sermon, he quoted the chorus to the song "Anthem," by Leonard Cohen. Here is the chorus:
Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in.
The way I took the sermon, everyone is flawed and cracked, but this is not necessarily a bad thing. It reminded me of the passage about how God's power is made perfect in weakness because we are all weak, and that is where God is shown. So, God can be made known through our individual cracks. And God's light shines through those who are not perfect. It's kind of like how I think God can use a person's experiences; even the less than happy ones, to reveal God's self. It's cool. Without these cracks, we might appear perfect, and people might find themselves reticent to acknowledge Christ because they do not feel worthy. The truth is, Christ calls us without our having individual merit. And through the cracks, we can see that Christ loves and lives for us. It was a good sermon and I'm not doing it justice.
Anyway, I'm going to go read some more of my book now. Have a great day, y'all.
J loaned me his laptop because he works at night on the weekends. I appreciate having a computer to use in the privacy of my own room. It's not like I'm doing anything inappropriate, but it's nice to be able to check my email and do Facebook and stuff whenever I want (at night) and not have to worry about the library closing and people all looking over my shoulder and what not (not like they would; I'm just paranoid). I ordered my new computer, and I think that it might be down at the FedEx depot or something. I'm not 100% sure, but it's possible because there was a taped message from them on the big doors leading into the main academic building the other day. That makes me think that it might be my new laptop. I hope so.
Anyway, I'm reading another book right now. It's called, "Lamb: The Gospel According to Biff, Christ's Childhood Pal." It's a pretty funny book. I like it a lot. It's about this guy who gets called forth from the dust of the earth 2000 years after his life and death so that he can write a Gospel of what Jesus was like as a kid. The man who was brought forth is Jesus' best childhood friend. While it's not a thing like the Canonical Scriptures, and it's fiction, it's still a good read because it just is. I can't quite put my finger on why I like it, but I do. It's funny, the author obviously researched and thought about what he was writing, and it's wholly entertaining. So far, I recommend it. Anyone out there had the pleasure of reading this book? And if so, what'd you think of it?
Okay, well, this has been a pretty light post. I need to find the sheet of paper I was writing my blogging ideas on so that I can remember what I was thinking. I've been thinking about a lot of things lately, and so no one idea is sticking in my head.
Oh yeah! And I got to see a good friend of mine today! She was heading home after having been evacuated because of the flooding. She and her husband were going from her mom and dad's house to her husband's Mom's place. They had to go through SeminaryTown due to a detour in a major road, and so called to meet up for lunch. I had a good time, and was so thankful to get to spend time with my pals. Pals are cool. So, thanks for stopping through and calling us, Friend! yay!
Last, but not least, I wanted to write a little bit about last week's sermon. The Gospel Lesson was Matthew 9:9-13; and 18-26. The pastor at the church I attend out here focused a bit on the Pharisees and how they talked about Jesus eating with tax collectors and sinners. In the course of his sermon, he quoted the chorus to the song "Anthem," by Leonard Cohen. Here is the chorus:
Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in.
The way I took the sermon, everyone is flawed and cracked, but this is not necessarily a bad thing. It reminded me of the passage about how God's power is made perfect in weakness because we are all weak, and that is where God is shown. So, God can be made known through our individual cracks. And God's light shines through those who are not perfect. It's kind of like how I think God can use a person's experiences; even the less than happy ones, to reveal God's self. It's cool. Without these cracks, we might appear perfect, and people might find themselves reticent to acknowledge Christ because they do not feel worthy. The truth is, Christ calls us without our having individual merit. And through the cracks, we can see that Christ loves and lives for us. It was a good sermon and I'm not doing it justice.
Anyway, I'm going to go read some more of my book now. Have a great day, y'all.
Friday, June 13, 2008
Absent
Hello Friends. I'm back to Seminary a wee bit sunburned, but happy to have done good work. I've not posted in a while, but I have pretty good reason. My computer is pretty much a piece of junk. haha. It no longer allows me onto the Internet. I have a new computer on order, but I don't know when it will arrive. Hopefully sooner rather than later.
Also, I was downstate earlier this week helping a friend do yardwork. We also fixed some of the roof on her shed and reshingled most of it before we were rained out. My friend took me past a river about 6 miles from her house and there were houses half under water. I can't even imagine what that'd be like. I'm confident they'd appreciate your prayers. There is flooding in much of the midwest. Yikes.
Anyway, I don't know how often I'll be able to blog until I get the new computer, which is a bummer, because I've had lots of ideas lately. But, I don't really feel comfortable doing this in the library. Privacy issues and what not... Alas. I hope you all are staying dry. Peace out.
Also, I was downstate earlier this week helping a friend do yardwork. We also fixed some of the roof on her shed and reshingled most of it before we were rained out. My friend took me past a river about 6 miles from her house and there were houses half under water. I can't even imagine what that'd be like. I'm confident they'd appreciate your prayers. There is flooding in much of the midwest. Yikes.
Anyway, I don't know how often I'll be able to blog until I get the new computer, which is a bummer, because I've had lots of ideas lately. But, I don't really feel comfortable doing this in the library. Privacy issues and what not... Alas. I hope you all are staying dry. Peace out.
Thursday, June 05, 2008
Revisiting
Summertime has obviously come to schools all around. Summertime is made known in school breaks, in warmer temperatures, and in the chlorine smell of pools that are being treated so people won't get sick from germs. As I've gotten older, summertime has changed for me. I no longer throw water balloons at people on the last day of school. I don't ride my bike around town like a little weirdo filled to the brim with excitement. And mostly, I don't look around and say, "Weehaw! 3 months of no responsibilities!"
While I have fewer responsibilities during the summer, they're not gone completely. Right now, I have few things I "have" to do. I'm going to work for a friend next week. I'll be tooling around in the yard, and doing some work on the shed with her. I'm really looking forward to it. That sort of thing makes me feel useful. And I need to feel useful. I miss the manual labor that I am "spared" by living in a dormitory where there is a grounds crew to do all that stuff. I miss fixing the doorframe on the old back porch after a good hard rain soaks into it and pulls the nails out of it and the wood that holds it in place. I miss sitting out on the deck steps, wearing my paint and grass-stained, slightly holey, tools in the pockets to make my work more efficient, carpenter jeans, cutting up pieces of orange plastic to put into my weedwhacker. And I miss having someone to do these things for, knowing that they taught me the work ethic by example, but who was too old and didn't quite understand the technology to do the work for herself.
So, while my friend is far from incapable of doing these things for herself, I am incredibly grateful that she is giving me this opportunity to work, to get my hands dirty, and to feel like a useful person again.
But don't get me wrong-I know I am a useful person of more worth than many sparrows. I know that I have gifts and talents and proclivities that make me valuable and treasured in the eyes of many. Sometimes it's just nice to have a reminder that is made tangible by sore muscles and a sunburned neck; by the smell of gasoline and fresh cut weeds and grass.
It's an interesting thing to think about; this whole question of what makes us feel useful. One of the last times I saw my advisor this past semester (she likes to see us once a month to check in on life, seminary, and whatever else), she asked me, "What makes your spirit sing?" I was somewhat taken aback by the question, and so my quick answer was, "laughing." I've been thinking some about that question, and I've come to recognize that one reason I have a difficult time answering it is because I don't like the way it's phrased. It's seems so foundationally based on emotion that I just think it a bit too flighty to give any credence to it. But it's not well enough to rephrase the question into, "What makes you happy?" Because happy is an emotion too, and not a very thorough one. Sometimes I am happy, and sometimes I'm not, but I always have joy. So, while this is a rough translation of the question, "What makes your spirit sing?" into "Trish-ese," I would like to put it out there... Perhaps I could do more searching for the answer if the question were phrased, "What makes you feel valuable?"
Earlier I mentioned that manual labor makes me feel valuable. However, it's more than just using mind and muscle together to accomplish a task. The draw for me, I think, comes from acting in service to others; even if indirectly. I was at my house a few weeks ago (not "home," but the place I lived for 24 years), and I found a book I read several years back. I thought that it might make for an interesting re-read, considering everything I've learned the last couple of years, and the last year and a half in particular. The book is called, "The Rapture of Canaan," and is about this fundamentalist Christian group with a very stern leader. Sometimes the book had me laughing because of the ridiculousness of what was being said, sometimes it made me angry because things like that probably happen places in even our own society, and sometimes it just made me think about life. The book did a good job of drawing me in to the story, and I even have found myself slipping into talking like a country bumpkin lately.
Reading "The Rapture of Canaan" has made me feel valuable. Not just because it's a good story, but because I read it for me. College really did a good job of stomping my love of reading right out of me. Some of the stuff at Seminary is much more interesting, but the fact that it is assigned reading is my problem. But, now that it is summertime, I can read for me again. The neat thing is, though, that despite the VAST differences in theology between the people in the book I just finished reading again and me, is that it reinforced some of my own beliefs and starkly put some ideas out there for me to ponder. One of the most important lines in the whole book, in my opinion states,
"Sorrow is a silent place."
That's something to think about, isn't it? The main character, Ninah, had been out with her grandma, Nanna, looking for her grandpa, who was the leader of the community and church. Grandpa had had a stroke, but was still able to move about. Somedays he was more confused than others, but Nanna just kept watching over him, even when he was violent. The day Grandpa went off, the whole community went out looking for him, but Ninah and Nanna went secretly because the community was treating Nanna the way our society has a tendency of treating older folks in the face of stress or fear: like an invalid. So, Nanna was sad when they couldn't find him, obviously, but Ninah didn't say anything because she realized, "Sorrow's a silent place."
How true, and how scarcely followed is this thought. I'm guilty of it myself. When there's sadness in someone's life, I try to say something of comfort. Not something like, "Oh, he's in a better place," but something else. I try not to dismiss their pain because pain is a very real part of human existence. But I think I might do well to remember that silence can be just as comforting. Sometimes, the presence of someone I love is enough to make me feel better, and I think if they tried talking, it would take away from that. Absolute silence isn't necessary, but I'm going to try not to just spout off words for the sake of breaking the silence.
I remember at the end of my first full-time semester here at Seminary, I got some bad news regarding Ma. I meandered downstairs to one of my friends' rooms and she was with another good friend. And I told them and sat on her bed for a spell. They talked some, but were also silent a good lick of the time. And that was so valuable. I appreciated their care and concern, and I appreciate them.
Many of my friends have gone off to Clinical Pastoral Education this summer. Most of them are in hospital settings where they have an assigned floor, but are required to do trauma visits and what not as well. Because I've already done CPE, I am still here, able to plan out my summer as I wish. It is my hope and prayer for them that their experiences in their clinical settings will be fruitful for them; that they will learn the power of their voices to bring the hope of Christ into the midst of pain. But I hope even more that they will learn the power of silence; not silence that speaks of apathy or confusion, but silence that conveys presence and grace. Because despite all of my own feelings, worth does not come from doing any particular set of tasks or anything. Worth comes from God and God's claim on our lives as beloved people for whom Jesus lived, died, and resurrected. We are all the valued people of God. Our mere presence is valuable and respecting the "simple" presence of the "other" is valuable because God is at work through all of creation-even silence. And for this, I give thanks.
While I have fewer responsibilities during the summer, they're not gone completely. Right now, I have few things I "have" to do. I'm going to work for a friend next week. I'll be tooling around in the yard, and doing some work on the shed with her. I'm really looking forward to it. That sort of thing makes me feel useful. And I need to feel useful. I miss the manual labor that I am "spared" by living in a dormitory where there is a grounds crew to do all that stuff. I miss fixing the doorframe on the old back porch after a good hard rain soaks into it and pulls the nails out of it and the wood that holds it in place. I miss sitting out on the deck steps, wearing my paint and grass-stained, slightly holey, tools in the pockets to make my work more efficient, carpenter jeans, cutting up pieces of orange plastic to put into my weedwhacker. And I miss having someone to do these things for, knowing that they taught me the work ethic by example, but who was too old and didn't quite understand the technology to do the work for herself.
So, while my friend is far from incapable of doing these things for herself, I am incredibly grateful that she is giving me this opportunity to work, to get my hands dirty, and to feel like a useful person again.
But don't get me wrong-I know I am a useful person of more worth than many sparrows. I know that I have gifts and talents and proclivities that make me valuable and treasured in the eyes of many. Sometimes it's just nice to have a reminder that is made tangible by sore muscles and a sunburned neck; by the smell of gasoline and fresh cut weeds and grass.
It's an interesting thing to think about; this whole question of what makes us feel useful. One of the last times I saw my advisor this past semester (she likes to see us once a month to check in on life, seminary, and whatever else), she asked me, "What makes your spirit sing?" I was somewhat taken aback by the question, and so my quick answer was, "laughing." I've been thinking some about that question, and I've come to recognize that one reason I have a difficult time answering it is because I don't like the way it's phrased. It's seems so foundationally based on emotion that I just think it a bit too flighty to give any credence to it. But it's not well enough to rephrase the question into, "What makes you happy?" Because happy is an emotion too, and not a very thorough one. Sometimes I am happy, and sometimes I'm not, but I always have joy. So, while this is a rough translation of the question, "What makes your spirit sing?" into "Trish-ese," I would like to put it out there... Perhaps I could do more searching for the answer if the question were phrased, "What makes you feel valuable?"
Earlier I mentioned that manual labor makes me feel valuable. However, it's more than just using mind and muscle together to accomplish a task. The draw for me, I think, comes from acting in service to others; even if indirectly. I was at my house a few weeks ago (not "home," but the place I lived for 24 years), and I found a book I read several years back. I thought that it might make for an interesting re-read, considering everything I've learned the last couple of years, and the last year and a half in particular. The book is called, "The Rapture of Canaan," and is about this fundamentalist Christian group with a very stern leader. Sometimes the book had me laughing because of the ridiculousness of what was being said, sometimes it made me angry because things like that probably happen places in even our own society, and sometimes it just made me think about life. The book did a good job of drawing me in to the story, and I even have found myself slipping into talking like a country bumpkin lately.
Reading "The Rapture of Canaan" has made me feel valuable. Not just because it's a good story, but because I read it for me. College really did a good job of stomping my love of reading right out of me. Some of the stuff at Seminary is much more interesting, but the fact that it is assigned reading is my problem. But, now that it is summertime, I can read for me again. The neat thing is, though, that despite the VAST differences in theology between the people in the book I just finished reading again and me, is that it reinforced some of my own beliefs and starkly put some ideas out there for me to ponder. One of the most important lines in the whole book, in my opinion states,
"Sorrow is a silent place."
That's something to think about, isn't it? The main character, Ninah, had been out with her grandma, Nanna, looking for her grandpa, who was the leader of the community and church. Grandpa had had a stroke, but was still able to move about. Somedays he was more confused than others, but Nanna just kept watching over him, even when he was violent. The day Grandpa went off, the whole community went out looking for him, but Ninah and Nanna went secretly because the community was treating Nanna the way our society has a tendency of treating older folks in the face of stress or fear: like an invalid. So, Nanna was sad when they couldn't find him, obviously, but Ninah didn't say anything because she realized, "Sorrow's a silent place."
How true, and how scarcely followed is this thought. I'm guilty of it myself. When there's sadness in someone's life, I try to say something of comfort. Not something like, "Oh, he's in a better place," but something else. I try not to dismiss their pain because pain is a very real part of human existence. But I think I might do well to remember that silence can be just as comforting. Sometimes, the presence of someone I love is enough to make me feel better, and I think if they tried talking, it would take away from that. Absolute silence isn't necessary, but I'm going to try not to just spout off words for the sake of breaking the silence.
I remember at the end of my first full-time semester here at Seminary, I got some bad news regarding Ma. I meandered downstairs to one of my friends' rooms and she was with another good friend. And I told them and sat on her bed for a spell. They talked some, but were also silent a good lick of the time. And that was so valuable. I appreciated their care and concern, and I appreciate them.
Many of my friends have gone off to Clinical Pastoral Education this summer. Most of them are in hospital settings where they have an assigned floor, but are required to do trauma visits and what not as well. Because I've already done CPE, I am still here, able to plan out my summer as I wish. It is my hope and prayer for them that their experiences in their clinical settings will be fruitful for them; that they will learn the power of their voices to bring the hope of Christ into the midst of pain. But I hope even more that they will learn the power of silence; not silence that speaks of apathy or confusion, but silence that conveys presence and grace. Because despite all of my own feelings, worth does not come from doing any particular set of tasks or anything. Worth comes from God and God's claim on our lives as beloved people for whom Jesus lived, died, and resurrected. We are all the valued people of God. Our mere presence is valuable and respecting the "simple" presence of the "other" is valuable because God is at work through all of creation-even silence. And for this, I give thanks.
Monday, June 02, 2008
More Weird Dreams
Alright, last night/this morning, I had another really weird dream.
The dream was that the world was doomed, and "they" needed me to save it. But, the only way to save the world was for me to ride on the outside of this INCREDIBLY slowly moving old train with huge bicycle chains from some unknown place to Decatur, Illinois. But the thing is, I had to start at a specific time, and then be in Decatur in about and hour and a half. In all reality, that would be impossible because I got the idea that the starting place was from Seminary or at least home. But, I did it, and the world was saved. But as soon as I got done saving the world by riding on the slow train, I was taken to some church where they were having the funeral for one of my friends (who has been dead for almost 10 years). It was like her death was new. Her family asked me and a guy in my class at Seminary to do some readings for the funeral. Her family is and always has been friends with my family, so I could see why they'd ask me in the dream, but they probably have no idea who my friend is. But, we both agreed. Everyone was all crying and stuff, and my dead friend's grandma was at the funeral too, but she's been dead for probably about 8 years or so. So, it came time for me to go up to the lectern to read, and I just stood there while my Seminary friend read. Every couple of words, we would say the word together, but in the dream, I got the idea that this was how it was supposed to be. Then I woke up.
I don't really know what to think about all this dreaming. The chain thing could be because J and I went to a museum near a body of water that is near to us and we got to board a dredging ship. While walking around near the boats/ships and body of water, we saw a HUGE chain that looked like a bicycle chain on steroids. So, I don't know where the train came in, but that could be where I got the chain. And the dream about the funeral could be because some friends and I went to a park with flowers and memorial gardens and stuff yesterday and there are big granite benches with sayings on them. That makes me think of cemeteries because my dad's tombstone is a bench that has his name, my mom's name, and a child's name they lost on the top and dates of birth (and death for those who are dead). There is some other "life" information on the tombstone, too. So, I'm thinking that garden made me think of funerals. However, I haven't dreamt about my dead friend in a couple of years. So, it was just kind of weird. I don't know. I was at the cemetery recently (What with Memorial Day and all) and I drove past my friend's grave, so maybe that was stuck in my brain.
I don't know why I wasn't reading the whole reading at the funeral in my dream though. My friend who was reading while I stood up there is a nice guy. He's only ticked me off once, and it wasn't a big thing. I'm wondering if my mind is saying, "Stop letting people put words in your mouth/speak for you when you have your own things to say." I don't know.
Anyway, the dream really wasn't upsetting. It just has my noggin going is all. Interesting stuff... Ha. I need to go though. Peace out, y'all.
The dream was that the world was doomed, and "they" needed me to save it. But, the only way to save the world was for me to ride on the outside of this INCREDIBLY slowly moving old train with huge bicycle chains from some unknown place to Decatur, Illinois. But the thing is, I had to start at a specific time, and then be in Decatur in about and hour and a half. In all reality, that would be impossible because I got the idea that the starting place was from Seminary or at least home. But, I did it, and the world was saved. But as soon as I got done saving the world by riding on the slow train, I was taken to some church where they were having the funeral for one of my friends (who has been dead for almost 10 years). It was like her death was new. Her family asked me and a guy in my class at Seminary to do some readings for the funeral. Her family is and always has been friends with my family, so I could see why they'd ask me in the dream, but they probably have no idea who my friend is. But, we both agreed. Everyone was all crying and stuff, and my dead friend's grandma was at the funeral too, but she's been dead for probably about 8 years or so. So, it came time for me to go up to the lectern to read, and I just stood there while my Seminary friend read. Every couple of words, we would say the word together, but in the dream, I got the idea that this was how it was supposed to be. Then I woke up.
I don't really know what to think about all this dreaming. The chain thing could be because J and I went to a museum near a body of water that is near to us and we got to board a dredging ship. While walking around near the boats/ships and body of water, we saw a HUGE chain that looked like a bicycle chain on steroids. So, I don't know where the train came in, but that could be where I got the chain. And the dream about the funeral could be because some friends and I went to a park with flowers and memorial gardens and stuff yesterday and there are big granite benches with sayings on them. That makes me think of cemeteries because my dad's tombstone is a bench that has his name, my mom's name, and a child's name they lost on the top and dates of birth (and death for those who are dead). There is some other "life" information on the tombstone, too. So, I'm thinking that garden made me think of funerals. However, I haven't dreamt about my dead friend in a couple of years. So, it was just kind of weird. I don't know. I was at the cemetery recently (What with Memorial Day and all) and I drove past my friend's grave, so maybe that was stuck in my brain.
I don't know why I wasn't reading the whole reading at the funeral in my dream though. My friend who was reading while I stood up there is a nice guy. He's only ticked me off once, and it wasn't a big thing. I'm wondering if my mind is saying, "Stop letting people put words in your mouth/speak for you when you have your own things to say." I don't know.
Anyway, the dream really wasn't upsetting. It just has my noggin going is all. Interesting stuff... Ha. I need to go though. Peace out, y'all.
Friday, May 30, 2008
This is what I get after watching Stand-Ups on T.V. late at night...
So, I was watching some stand up comics on t.v. last night right before I went to bed. Well, I was watching them, and the news because a whole bunch of severe weather was rolling across the area last night. And it looked like it was heading for us, so I wanted to be aware of the situation. I even put some socks on so if the sirens went off, I wouldn't have to spend time doing that before heading to the basement. It's important to be ready because I live on the top floor. I wanted socks in the really off chance the building crumpled around me and I would have had to walk around. Who wants to do that barefoot? Not I. Anyway, I digress...
So, I was watching some comics on t.v. and none of them were all that funny, but I wanted to laugh anyway, so I gave them the opportunity to make me laugh. I did laugh, but none of them had me rolling. Oh well. Anyway, one of them talked about Canada and the Canadian Mounted Police for just a snippet. He made some joke about how they don't support/help the U.S. in the war in Iraq, and how people say, "Oh, put away the tanks; they've brought their horses!"
I watched one more comic, and then I went to sleep because the storm was dying down. Then, I had this crazy dream that Canada attacked the United States. We had no idea they were going to do it, but they did. They caught us totally offguard. And they were all around where I was and they were making my life miserable, it seemed, by tracking me down! I was at the mall, and these Canadian Mounties were trying to find me. So, there was this old lady grandma who was with them (she was Canadian), and I went up to her when she was alone and I took her hand and started singing "Kumbaya." She wasn't a fan of the war like I wasn't a fan of the war. So anyway, I went away and hid behind this wall and the Mounties came and found her again. Then, they went someplace else and I went to find the grandma lady again. I found her and went up to her again, but it was a trick! The Mounties closed in on me and I looked at the grandma and we started singing "Kumbaya" again, but they weren't having any of it. All of a sudden, I was in a forest with a guy who just graduated seminary. We were assigned to chop down a really thick tree with manual tools (no chain saws for us!). So, he was chopping at the tree really high, which I thought was weird because you're supposed to chop close to the bottom. He had one of those bigger bow saws and I had a hatchet. Since he was cutting parallel to the ground, and because I didn't have a ladder or anything, I really had to reach to chop in the same places he was sawing. And then I woke up.
The dream was incredibly bizarre, but I totally see why I had it. My late night t.v. viewing put the Canadian Mounted Police idea into my head, and I also did some yard work at Sis and BiL's when I was there early this week. So, all that was ruminating around a bit. And since I'd not posted on a dream in a while, I thought I would share. I hope you were at least mildly entertained.
So, I was watching some comics on t.v. and none of them were all that funny, but I wanted to laugh anyway, so I gave them the opportunity to make me laugh. I did laugh, but none of them had me rolling. Oh well. Anyway, one of them talked about Canada and the Canadian Mounted Police for just a snippet. He made some joke about how they don't support/help the U.S. in the war in Iraq, and how people say, "Oh, put away the tanks; they've brought their horses!"
I watched one more comic, and then I went to sleep because the storm was dying down. Then, I had this crazy dream that Canada attacked the United States. We had no idea they were going to do it, but they did. They caught us totally offguard. And they were all around where I was and they were making my life miserable, it seemed, by tracking me down! I was at the mall, and these Canadian Mounties were trying to find me. So, there was this old lady grandma who was with them (she was Canadian), and I went up to her when she was alone and I took her hand and started singing "Kumbaya." She wasn't a fan of the war like I wasn't a fan of the war. So anyway, I went away and hid behind this wall and the Mounties came and found her again. Then, they went someplace else and I went to find the grandma lady again. I found her and went up to her again, but it was a trick! The Mounties closed in on me and I looked at the grandma and we started singing "Kumbaya" again, but they weren't having any of it. All of a sudden, I was in a forest with a guy who just graduated seminary. We were assigned to chop down a really thick tree with manual tools (no chain saws for us!). So, he was chopping at the tree really high, which I thought was weird because you're supposed to chop close to the bottom. He had one of those bigger bow saws and I had a hatchet. Since he was cutting parallel to the ground, and because I didn't have a ladder or anything, I really had to reach to chop in the same places he was sawing. And then I woke up.
The dream was incredibly bizarre, but I totally see why I had it. My late night t.v. viewing put the Canadian Mounted Police idea into my head, and I also did some yard work at Sis and BiL's when I was there early this week. So, all that was ruminating around a bit. And since I'd not posted on a dream in a while, I thought I would share. I hope you were at least mildly entertained.
Saturday, May 24, 2008
Just Another Day
Today is another day in the life of Trish.
On this day last year, Sis and BiL brought Sunscreen home from the hospital. It seems a bit fitting that today is the day they are giving him his first birthday party. His actual birthday was May 21st, but because they both work and because life is busy, they postponed the party until the weekend. I am heading for "home" after I sleep a bit.
On this day eight years ago, when I was 17, my car was broken. It was a Wednesday, I think, and I was at work. Ma was supposed to come get me when I was done, but she forgot. I got a ride from a co-worker, but could not get into my house because it was locked. So, I had to walk all around town to try to find Ma to let me into the house. I was not a happy camper.
When I was a sophomore in high school, nine years ago, I had an Applied Biology/Chemistry final on this day. It was a beautiful day with sunshine and pleasant temperatures. I did well enough on the final, but science has never really been my thing.
Eleven years ago on this day, I graduated 8th grade at 1:00 in the afternoon. I walked with my boyfriend of the time because we were both the shortest kids in our class, and they paired us according to height. We were the first to walk because it went shortest to tallest. I was always the short kid, even until about 10th or 11th grade. Modern medicine is what let me grow to the height I am now (5 feet, 5 1/2 inches). I am the happiest person you will ever meet to be completely average.
Thirteen years ago, my part of Illinois was dealing with one of the rainiest Mays in several years. May 24, 1995 was a drizzly, cold, and gray day. So cold, in fact, that I wore a blue hooded sweatshirt with pink roses on it, with black jeans (it was cool to wear colored jeans back then). A friend YS and I shared had spent the night prior at our house, and was going to hang out with us and go on errands with us and our dad. This is the first May 24th that I remember, and I remember hours and hours of the day. It's really too bad it's not pleasant.
The point I reckon I'm trying to make is that "good" and "bad" things happen all the time. This day used to bring up horrible, awful, miserable images in my mind that led to horrible, awful, and miserable feelings for me, but I'm doing better now. I guess it's because I can see that May 24th is not a day destined for craptacularness; it's just another day, like all the other days. I remember this day for something bad, and I probably always will, but at the same time, I can look around me and see that good things happen on this day, too. I guess a lot of how a person feels has to do with how they look at what is around them.
The seesaw has gone the other way now, though. I was 12 on May 24, 1995, and here on May 24, 2008, 13 years have passed. It's just a little odd to think of what I was like back then, and on that day, and to think of me now.
Bad and good, indeed. But now, I need to get some sleep so I can celebrate a birthday later today. I love my boys.
On this day last year, Sis and BiL brought Sunscreen home from the hospital. It seems a bit fitting that today is the day they are giving him his first birthday party. His actual birthday was May 21st, but because they both work and because life is busy, they postponed the party until the weekend. I am heading for "home" after I sleep a bit.
On this day eight years ago, when I was 17, my car was broken. It was a Wednesday, I think, and I was at work. Ma was supposed to come get me when I was done, but she forgot. I got a ride from a co-worker, but could not get into my house because it was locked. So, I had to walk all around town to try to find Ma to let me into the house. I was not a happy camper.
When I was a sophomore in high school, nine years ago, I had an Applied Biology/Chemistry final on this day. It was a beautiful day with sunshine and pleasant temperatures. I did well enough on the final, but science has never really been my thing.
Eleven years ago on this day, I graduated 8th grade at 1:00 in the afternoon. I walked with my boyfriend of the time because we were both the shortest kids in our class, and they paired us according to height. We were the first to walk because it went shortest to tallest. I was always the short kid, even until about 10th or 11th grade. Modern medicine is what let me grow to the height I am now (5 feet, 5 1/2 inches). I am the happiest person you will ever meet to be completely average.
Thirteen years ago, my part of Illinois was dealing with one of the rainiest Mays in several years. May 24, 1995 was a drizzly, cold, and gray day. So cold, in fact, that I wore a blue hooded sweatshirt with pink roses on it, with black jeans (it was cool to wear colored jeans back then). A friend YS and I shared had spent the night prior at our house, and was going to hang out with us and go on errands with us and our dad. This is the first May 24th that I remember, and I remember hours and hours of the day. It's really too bad it's not pleasant.
The point I reckon I'm trying to make is that "good" and "bad" things happen all the time. This day used to bring up horrible, awful, miserable images in my mind that led to horrible, awful, and miserable feelings for me, but I'm doing better now. I guess it's because I can see that May 24th is not a day destined for craptacularness; it's just another day, like all the other days. I remember this day for something bad, and I probably always will, but at the same time, I can look around me and see that good things happen on this day, too. I guess a lot of how a person feels has to do with how they look at what is around them.
The seesaw has gone the other way now, though. I was 12 on May 24, 1995, and here on May 24, 2008, 13 years have passed. It's just a little odd to think of what I was like back then, and on that day, and to think of me now.
Bad and good, indeed. But now, I need to get some sleep so I can celebrate a birthday later today. I love my boys.
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Fun Stuff
Well, tonight, a group of us from the Seminary went to the midnight showing of the new Indiana Jones movie. I have only seen one of the IJ movies, and it's been a LONG time. But, the new one was pretty good.
J and I went and bought tickets for ourselves and for two of our friends. They weren't sure if their spouses would be coming, so I only bought 4 tickets. We planned to meet at the theater around 11:15 because the theater was hosting a kickoff party with video games and drink specials and what not (this theater serves wine and beer and other adult beverages). When we went into the theater, a very popular X-box game was being projected up onto the big screen. Two other screens were down in the front row for different games. It was quite entertaining, although the people playing on the big screen were not doing what you're "supposed" to do in the game, and were just messing around.
When the theater people took the games down in order to prepare for the movie, an employee came in and was giving away raffle prizes. I assumed they would be giving them away according to the numbers on our movie tickets (which were not taken by movie attendants because they are mini-poster like things). I believe there were 4 or 5 prizes given away. The last number called was 54 and I was like, "That's one of the numbers I bought!" So, one of my good friends stood up and got a prize! It was exciting because it makes me feel like a winner. I don't win stuff very often, and I technically DIDN'T win the Indiana Jones hat, but because I bought the ticket (although my friend paid me back), I felt like I did win. AND, I'm not the one acquiring more "stuff," which is important to me because I'm somewhat of a minimalist. Anyway, I was excited, so congratulations, Friend!
The movie was pretty good. It's fairly ridiculous, you know, the whole plot line and stuff, but it was exciting. It also parallels the biblical story in a few places which I thought was amusing. J and I agree that there is not anything new to be come up with anymore. Very few things are completely original. Not that that's necessarily a BAD thing; just an observation.
Anyway, so it's now pretty late, and although I have nothing to do tomorrow morning, I don't like sleeping the day away. It makes me feel weird. So, anyway, I recommend going to see the new Indiana Jones movie. That makes 4 movies in the past week or so that I have liked which I didn't think I would: Episodes IV, V, and VI of Star Wars, and now the new Indiana Jones movie. Cool. Anyway, y'all have a good night.
J and I went and bought tickets for ourselves and for two of our friends. They weren't sure if their spouses would be coming, so I only bought 4 tickets. We planned to meet at the theater around 11:15 because the theater was hosting a kickoff party with video games and drink specials and what not (this theater serves wine and beer and other adult beverages). When we went into the theater, a very popular X-box game was being projected up onto the big screen. Two other screens were down in the front row for different games. It was quite entertaining, although the people playing on the big screen were not doing what you're "supposed" to do in the game, and were just messing around.
When the theater people took the games down in order to prepare for the movie, an employee came in and was giving away raffle prizes. I assumed they would be giving them away according to the numbers on our movie tickets (which were not taken by movie attendants because they are mini-poster like things). I believe there were 4 or 5 prizes given away. The last number called was 54 and I was like, "That's one of the numbers I bought!" So, one of my good friends stood up and got a prize! It was exciting because it makes me feel like a winner. I don't win stuff very often, and I technically DIDN'T win the Indiana Jones hat, but because I bought the ticket (although my friend paid me back), I felt like I did win. AND, I'm not the one acquiring more "stuff," which is important to me because I'm somewhat of a minimalist. Anyway, I was excited, so congratulations, Friend!
The movie was pretty good. It's fairly ridiculous, you know, the whole plot line and stuff, but it was exciting. It also parallels the biblical story in a few places which I thought was amusing. J and I agree that there is not anything new to be come up with anymore. Very few things are completely original. Not that that's necessarily a BAD thing; just an observation.
Anyway, so it's now pretty late, and although I have nothing to do tomorrow morning, I don't like sleeping the day away. It makes me feel weird. So, anyway, I recommend going to see the new Indiana Jones movie. That makes 4 movies in the past week or so that I have liked which I didn't think I would: Episodes IV, V, and VI of Star Wars, and now the new Indiana Jones movie. Cool. Anyway, y'all have a good night.
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
So, my posts have tended towards less than happy lately...
But the thing is... I am doing alright. I wanted to throw that out there. Earlier last week, I was having a pretty difficult time because new things that happen with Ma tend to upset me a bit. Because I consider myself to be a realistic person, I recognized that she would probably not do well with the anesthesia from the hip surgery, and that this violence thing is a new part of her life. With all that, I'm doing better now. I have awesome friends who support me and who ask me how Ma is doing. People pray for Ma, my family, and me through all of this, and faith also helps me.
I just keep thinking about how weird it is that Ma is so far gone already. And I realize that other people have lives that are filled with much more heartache and loss than mine is, but sometimes it just weirds me out to know that I'm a twenty-five year old woman dealing with her mother's quick and steady cognitive decline. Sometimes, despite all of my awesome friends, it makes me feel a little bit alone. There are other people here at Seminary whose parents have dealt with dementia, but to my knowledge, I am the only one in my age group. It's just weird to know that Ma will never see this wonderful place where I live and learn in order to hopefully someday serve the church professionally. It's weird to know that she thinks my sisters and I are young children she has to care for and cook for, and what not. It's weird to think that it is quite possible that the end for her could be nearer than we think, although we do not know for certain. Weird and isolating, I suppose, although, the isolation comes through my own doing, and really isn't THAT big a deal. I think I'm doing a pretty good job with trying to be more open about what is happening. I'm still working on it.
And even in my own isolation, I reflect on the cross. Jesus cried out in Matthew 27:46, "My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?" Jesus felt abandoned, isolated, and upset. The Word made flesh in Jesus Christ came and lived this sinless life, and yet, his life was not all kittens and teddy bears. Sure, he made friends, but he also made enemies of many of the religious leaders of the day. He even ticked off one of his own disciples by not having the costly perfume sold in order to give it to the poor. Many events in Jesus' life led to his crucifixion, but I think it is important to not gloss over Jesus' crying out because he believed himself to be abandoned. But the truth is, Jesus was not alone on the cross; he had the power of sin and death with him-unhelpful and uncompassionate companions. Galatians 3:13 says that Christ became a curse for us, and Martin Luther states that a piece of that comes from the fact that this sinless Jesus came and took the sin of every man, woman, and child into his sinless self in order for the Father to be able to see humanity as cleansed. That is how the powers of sin and death were overcome on our behalf. Jesus took every part of humanity into himself in order to redeem and offer restoration to us. He took our shame, our suffering, our hatred, contempt, envy, anger, sadness in order that he could share with us in all that it is to be human; in order that the one through whom all things were made (John 1:3) would be the one through whom all things would be redeemed. Christ shoulders our burdens with us and allows us strength, or better yet, even the ability to be weak, until at last we can set them down and they are obliterated in the eternal love and grace of God in Jesus Christ. In our strength, which is not even as strong as God's weakness (1 Cor. 1:25), and in our weakness, which shows that God's work is within us, upholding and strengthening us when we are unable to do so ourselves.
So, we do have these companions with us: joy, sadness, fear, loathing, anger, happiness, excitement, pride, and so forth. These emotions are a part of who we are and how we perceive and act to the people and the world around us. The Incarnation means that God cares about us enough to experience these things with us in Christ. May we recognize that we are never truly alone because God stands with us in Christ through even the worst of situations; not necessarily to make us feel better, but to offer a word of peace in the midst of turmoil. Thanks be to God.
I just keep thinking about how weird it is that Ma is so far gone already. And I realize that other people have lives that are filled with much more heartache and loss than mine is, but sometimes it just weirds me out to know that I'm a twenty-five year old woman dealing with her mother's quick and steady cognitive decline. Sometimes, despite all of my awesome friends, it makes me feel a little bit alone. There are other people here at Seminary whose parents have dealt with dementia, but to my knowledge, I am the only one in my age group. It's just weird to know that Ma will never see this wonderful place where I live and learn in order to hopefully someday serve the church professionally. It's weird to know that she thinks my sisters and I are young children she has to care for and cook for, and what not. It's weird to think that it is quite possible that the end for her could be nearer than we think, although we do not know for certain. Weird and isolating, I suppose, although, the isolation comes through my own doing, and really isn't THAT big a deal. I think I'm doing a pretty good job with trying to be more open about what is happening. I'm still working on it.
And even in my own isolation, I reflect on the cross. Jesus cried out in Matthew 27:46, "My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?" Jesus felt abandoned, isolated, and upset. The Word made flesh in Jesus Christ came and lived this sinless life, and yet, his life was not all kittens and teddy bears. Sure, he made friends, but he also made enemies of many of the religious leaders of the day. He even ticked off one of his own disciples by not having the costly perfume sold in order to give it to the poor. Many events in Jesus' life led to his crucifixion, but I think it is important to not gloss over Jesus' crying out because he believed himself to be abandoned. But the truth is, Jesus was not alone on the cross; he had the power of sin and death with him-unhelpful and uncompassionate companions. Galatians 3:13 says that Christ became a curse for us, and Martin Luther states that a piece of that comes from the fact that this sinless Jesus came and took the sin of every man, woman, and child into his sinless self in order for the Father to be able to see humanity as cleansed. That is how the powers of sin and death were overcome on our behalf. Jesus took every part of humanity into himself in order to redeem and offer restoration to us. He took our shame, our suffering, our hatred, contempt, envy, anger, sadness in order that he could share with us in all that it is to be human; in order that the one through whom all things were made (John 1:3) would be the one through whom all things would be redeemed. Christ shoulders our burdens with us and allows us strength, or better yet, even the ability to be weak, until at last we can set them down and they are obliterated in the eternal love and grace of God in Jesus Christ. In our strength, which is not even as strong as God's weakness (1 Cor. 1:25), and in our weakness, which shows that God's work is within us, upholding and strengthening us when we are unable to do so ourselves.
So, we do have these companions with us: joy, sadness, fear, loathing, anger, happiness, excitement, pride, and so forth. These emotions are a part of who we are and how we perceive and act to the people and the world around us. The Incarnation means that God cares about us enough to experience these things with us in Christ. May we recognize that we are never truly alone because God stands with us in Christ through even the worst of situations; not necessarily to make us feel better, but to offer a word of peace in the midst of turmoil. Thanks be to God.
This thing is always badgering me to Title my posts.
But the thing is, sometimes, I can't think of witty titles, or titles that adequately reflect what I want to say. I digress.
A quick update on life:
My first full time seminary year is over. I got an A!!! on my Systematic Theology paper. The professors who read it said they enjoyed it and that it is creative and well thought out. I was thrilled, especially considering most of us were seriously freaked out about that class. I also got an "A" on my Pauline Letters final, not that it matters because I took that class for Credit/No Credit. The sermon I wrote for From Text to Sermon received several good comments and some constructive criticism. The professor didn't appreciate the humor I tried to interject. Oh well. I think he liked the thing for the most part because I got Credit for the sermon, and since I was there every class period and did everything required, I am assuming I got credit for the course. Really, I'm not worried about having failed anything. I'm fairly certain I did well this year. I'm happy with the academic work I did.
Many of my classmates have already hit the road for home, for CPE sites, or for wedding planning. I went to graduation this year because "J," who is no longer "just" my friend, but my boyfriend (officially since the Thursday before Easter), graduated. I'm so proud of him! He is so smart, he is so smart, S-M-R-T! I got to help for the Baccalaureate service as a communion assistant. The graduation ceremony was also quite nice. The pictures I took are less than stellar, but I never claimed to be a photographer. It was a good weekend, really. I pray God's blessings on all those who have graduated or who are otherwise leaving this place. I'm confident that God is working in them.
Tonight, J and I hung out a bit. We walked on a path near a body of water near here. It is quite lovely, really. It sprinkled just a bit, but I'm not a wicked witch who is bound to melt from a little water. We also had dinner and started watching Star Wars: The Return of the Jedi. We have been watching those movies because I'd not seen them before. I didn't think I would like them, but I really do. We got about halfway through the movie tonight, before we decided to finish it tomorrow or something. He has to wake up early for work, so hopefully he was able to fall asleep well. It was a really fun evening, though.
When I got home, I saw that I had a message from Sis. She told me a few various things in the message. She said Mom is getting even more violent and combative; so much so that the doctor at the Supermax is starting her on an anti-psychotic drug. I have mentioned before, but I think it bears repeating that Ma doesn't have Alzheimer's Disease. Rather, she has what is called "Vascular Dementia," aka Dementia without further differentitation, aka hardening of the arteries in her brain. The progression is a lot like the big A, but instead of the gradual decline in most Alz patients, the declines come for people with Ma's type in steps as different blood vessels get closed off in what are sort of like strokes. You can click here to see an overview of what dementia does to a person. Because it is so similar to Alzheimers, the symptoms/stages are pretty much the same, except for the way they come about. Here and here are places where there is some information on the symptoms of dementia, and this link discusses staging of Alzheimers Disease (and by extension, speaks to other sorts of dementia as well). It's disconcerting to see that Ma is moving more and more quickly toward the moderately severe (Stage 6) area. Even though AD and Vascular Dementia are not the same thing, they are quite similar. Similar enough, in my opinion (though I am not a doctor), to compare reasonably. Yikes. I keep praying for her to have peace. I'd appreciate your prayers for her, too. Thanks.
A quick update on life:
My first full time seminary year is over. I got an A!!! on my Systematic Theology paper. The professors who read it said they enjoyed it and that it is creative and well thought out. I was thrilled, especially considering most of us were seriously freaked out about that class. I also got an "A" on my Pauline Letters final, not that it matters because I took that class for Credit/No Credit. The sermon I wrote for From Text to Sermon received several good comments and some constructive criticism. The professor didn't appreciate the humor I tried to interject. Oh well. I think he liked the thing for the most part because I got Credit for the sermon, and since I was there every class period and did everything required, I am assuming I got credit for the course. Really, I'm not worried about having failed anything. I'm fairly certain I did well this year. I'm happy with the academic work I did.
Many of my classmates have already hit the road for home, for CPE sites, or for wedding planning. I went to graduation this year because "J," who is no longer "just" my friend, but my boyfriend (officially since the Thursday before Easter), graduated. I'm so proud of him! He is so smart, he is so smart, S-M-R-T! I got to help for the Baccalaureate service as a communion assistant. The graduation ceremony was also quite nice. The pictures I took are less than stellar, but I never claimed to be a photographer. It was a good weekend, really. I pray God's blessings on all those who have graduated or who are otherwise leaving this place. I'm confident that God is working in them.
Tonight, J and I hung out a bit. We walked on a path near a body of water near here. It is quite lovely, really. It sprinkled just a bit, but I'm not a wicked witch who is bound to melt from a little water. We also had dinner and started watching Star Wars: The Return of the Jedi. We have been watching those movies because I'd not seen them before. I didn't think I would like them, but I really do. We got about halfway through the movie tonight, before we decided to finish it tomorrow or something. He has to wake up early for work, so hopefully he was able to fall asleep well. It was a really fun evening, though.
When I got home, I saw that I had a message from Sis. She told me a few various things in the message. She said Mom is getting even more violent and combative; so much so that the doctor at the Supermax is starting her on an anti-psychotic drug. I have mentioned before, but I think it bears repeating that Ma doesn't have Alzheimer's Disease. Rather, she has what is called "Vascular Dementia," aka Dementia without further differentitation, aka hardening of the arteries in her brain. The progression is a lot like the big A, but instead of the gradual decline in most Alz patients, the declines come for people with Ma's type in steps as different blood vessels get closed off in what are sort of like strokes. You can click here to see an overview of what dementia does to a person. Because it is so similar to Alzheimers, the symptoms/stages are pretty much the same, except for the way they come about. Here and here are places where there is some information on the symptoms of dementia, and this link discusses staging of Alzheimers Disease (and by extension, speaks to other sorts of dementia as well). It's disconcerting to see that Ma is moving more and more quickly toward the moderately severe (Stage 6) area. Even though AD and Vascular Dementia are not the same thing, they are quite similar. Similar enough, in my opinion (though I am not a doctor), to compare reasonably. Yikes. I keep praying for her to have peace. I'd appreciate your prayers for her, too. Thanks.
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Violence is bad, mmkay?
So, in talking with Sis, I have found out some new information. Sis called the home where Mom lives yesterday. She wanted to know how Mom got a big skin tear on her arm. I thought maybe Mom caught her arm on the door or something when she fell. It turns out that the REASON Ma fell is because she was in some other lady's room to say goodnight to her (the whole "Grandma" thing), and some nurse's aid was in there, maybe trying to get Mom to go to bed or something, when Ma decided to try to punch and kick the aid.
My mother is getting violent. First, there is that lady who she throws down with sometimes (we call that woman vinegar, and Ma Oil), and now she's getting narsty with the aids at the home. And, really, I think, anyone she doesn't know because she was giving some attitude to the nurses at the hospital. Thank goodness Pastor came in and was able to convince Ma they were trying to help.
Violence is a fairly new thing for Ma. She was always so meek. I mean, she'd swat us occasionally when we were kids if we were bad, but she was not really the disciplinarian of the family. It is scary to see her getting worse so quickly. Before this weekend, the last time I saw her, she still used "normal" words where they belonged, but she didn't make much sense. Now she is using words that don't belong and not making sense. And, when she's tired, she uses non-words. Just jibberish. And, she is getting violent. It just seems like she's going downhill fast. It's just a scary and frustrating thing.
Anyway, I guess I'm just trying to process through what is happening to her and what that means for her, my siblings, and me. Thanks for all your kind words and prayers and everything. I am very much appreciative. Peace to you all.
My mother is getting violent. First, there is that lady who she throws down with sometimes (we call that woman vinegar, and Ma Oil), and now she's getting narsty with the aids at the home. And, really, I think, anyone she doesn't know because she was giving some attitude to the nurses at the hospital. Thank goodness Pastor came in and was able to convince Ma they were trying to help.
Violence is a fairly new thing for Ma. She was always so meek. I mean, she'd swat us occasionally when we were kids if we were bad, but she was not really the disciplinarian of the family. It is scary to see her getting worse so quickly. Before this weekend, the last time I saw her, she still used "normal" words where they belonged, but she didn't make much sense. Now she is using words that don't belong and not making sense. And, when she's tired, she uses non-words. Just jibberish. And, she is getting violent. It just seems like she's going downhill fast. It's just a scary and frustrating thing.
Anyway, I guess I'm just trying to process through what is happening to her and what that means for her, my siblings, and me. Thanks for all your kind words and prayers and everything. I am very much appreciative. Peace to you all.
Monday, May 12, 2008
I don't care about a Title right now.
Saturday night, Sis called me around 10:30 or so. Ma was going down the hall at the home to say goodnight to some lady she calls, "Grandma," when she turned, lost her balance, fell, and broke her hip. They took her to the hospital and Sis and YS called me from the Emergency Department. Thankfully, she didn't break the whole ball of her hip; just the piece that curves around. That meant that she didn't need a whole hip replacement.
So, when Sis called, I was on MSN talking with a seminary friend. I told her what happened after I hung up because I was conflicted on whether or not I should go home, considering this week is Finals Week. Friend asked me what my gut feeling about it was, and I said I wanted to go. It's good to have people help you sort through these sorts of things when your mind is going around in circles and it's hard to tell which way is up. So, I decided to go, and so I realized I would need to email my extended family and some of Ma's old friends to let them know this happened. I also thought it best to email the profs I have on Monday in case something were to go wrong, that way they would know why I was absent. I also txt messaged a friend here at the Castle. I was going to tell her I was going home and would not be riding to church the next day. She called and came right up, which was helpful. When she got here, I was pretty much babbling like an idiot, trying to compose the email to the profs. So, Friend typed it for me. She also helped me pack, making sure I didn't forget anything important.
Then, I headed out. Packing Friend texted me on the way, and so did another friend who was with Packing Friend when I told her what was up. The drive from Seminary to "home" is about 3 hours or so. It downpoured the WHOLE WAY HOME! I thought I was going to die a couple of times. But, I didn't, thankfully. I made it "home," and Sis got back from being with Ma at the hospital about ten minutes after I got there. Ma was actually talking in non-words that night. But then, Sis and I made plans about Sunday's surgery; what time to leave and what not. So, we went to sleep. I was able to go to church because Ma's surgery wasn't scheduled until at least 11:00 or so. So, I went to church, and I'm glad. Since it was Mother's Day, I figured Pastor and his wife and sons would have something planned, so I didn't expect to see him at the hospital. However, I needed some sort of Pastoral Care. I got it at "sharing the peace" time. Pastor came up to me and put his hand on my arm in the "hey, I'm with you" way. I'm not big on being touched, and I think he knows that in some way (body language), but I appreciated it on Sunday. I am, however, working on this "personal space" thing. I'm very grateful for the hugs and shoulder pats I've gotten today.
Sis, YS, YSB, and I then went to the hospital after church. Mom was sleeping because they had given her some morphine. She woke up for a few minutes and I tried to make a joke about how if she wanted us all to come home for Mother's Day, all she had to do was ask. She just kind of stared at me. No laugh or anything. That was really disappointing because my mom used to have a really good sense of humor. I think I'm funnier than she is, but I also believe that her influence helped shape my sense of humor. My older brother (the one who is cool) and his wife met us at the hospital a little while later. Mom was so out of it, so we just stayed in the lounge about 15 feet from her room. Then, they came and took Ma for surgery. Sis and I rode down the elevator with her to say goodbye, although we were kind of confused about what was happening. I was disappointed that the rest of the family didn't get to wish her well.
The surgery took about an hour and a half or two hours. When all was said and done, the doctor came out to talk to us. He told us that she would be able to bear weight on it today, even because they only had to replace the piece of bone she broke. He also asked about her dementia. I got to be the mouthpiece of the family because I am good at keeping those sorts of dates and timeframes in my head. When Mom first became unable to recall this sort of thing and Sis had to do it, they had me write down all of her diagnosis and surgery dates.
So, we got to go back up to the Med-Surg floor after about an hour to see her. She was totally out of it. She was wearing an oxygen mask. She has problems with her blood pressure after surgery, and I think they probably gave her the oxygen to help that, too. She slept the rest of the day. We stayed in the lounge until about 6:30 that night, but then decided to go because the nurse said she'd probably sleep the rest of the day and into tomorrow. While we had been waiting, I went in to check on her once to see if she was asleep and I just looked at her. She's so small and frail. She looks just like her mom did when she was in the throes of Alzheimer's, except my mom still has dark brown hair, with very minimal gray. She's too young to have to be dealing with this stuff.
Pretty much, we're waiting to see how bad the anesthesia and the stress on her body messed her up. She'd been getting worse before the fall, and so I'm not confident that things will be good for her. It's so disconcerting.
But, instead of staying to be with my family, I came back to the castle early this morning so I could take a final and what not. I am conflicted. But, I'm here now, so I might as well make the most out of it. I would appreciate so much if you would (continue to) keep Ma in your prayers. I so much want her to have some peace. Alright, so I need to go have some lunch. Bye.
So, when Sis called, I was on MSN talking with a seminary friend. I told her what happened after I hung up because I was conflicted on whether or not I should go home, considering this week is Finals Week. Friend asked me what my gut feeling about it was, and I said I wanted to go. It's good to have people help you sort through these sorts of things when your mind is going around in circles and it's hard to tell which way is up. So, I decided to go, and so I realized I would need to email my extended family and some of Ma's old friends to let them know this happened. I also thought it best to email the profs I have on Monday in case something were to go wrong, that way they would know why I was absent. I also txt messaged a friend here at the Castle. I was going to tell her I was going home and would not be riding to church the next day. She called and came right up, which was helpful. When she got here, I was pretty much babbling like an idiot, trying to compose the email to the profs. So, Friend typed it for me. She also helped me pack, making sure I didn't forget anything important.
Then, I headed out. Packing Friend texted me on the way, and so did another friend who was with Packing Friend when I told her what was up. The drive from Seminary to "home" is about 3 hours or so. It downpoured the WHOLE WAY HOME! I thought I was going to die a couple of times. But, I didn't, thankfully. I made it "home," and Sis got back from being with Ma at the hospital about ten minutes after I got there. Ma was actually talking in non-words that night. But then, Sis and I made plans about Sunday's surgery; what time to leave and what not. So, we went to sleep. I was able to go to church because Ma's surgery wasn't scheduled until at least 11:00 or so. So, I went to church, and I'm glad. Since it was Mother's Day, I figured Pastor and his wife and sons would have something planned, so I didn't expect to see him at the hospital. However, I needed some sort of Pastoral Care. I got it at "sharing the peace" time. Pastor came up to me and put his hand on my arm in the "hey, I'm with you" way. I'm not big on being touched, and I think he knows that in some way (body language), but I appreciated it on Sunday. I am, however, working on this "personal space" thing. I'm very grateful for the hugs and shoulder pats I've gotten today.
Sis, YS, YSB, and I then went to the hospital after church. Mom was sleeping because they had given her some morphine. She woke up for a few minutes and I tried to make a joke about how if she wanted us all to come home for Mother's Day, all she had to do was ask. She just kind of stared at me. No laugh or anything. That was really disappointing because my mom used to have a really good sense of humor. I think I'm funnier than she is, but I also believe that her influence helped shape my sense of humor. My older brother (the one who is cool) and his wife met us at the hospital a little while later. Mom was so out of it, so we just stayed in the lounge about 15 feet from her room. Then, they came and took Ma for surgery. Sis and I rode down the elevator with her to say goodbye, although we were kind of confused about what was happening. I was disappointed that the rest of the family didn't get to wish her well.
The surgery took about an hour and a half or two hours. When all was said and done, the doctor came out to talk to us. He told us that she would be able to bear weight on it today, even because they only had to replace the piece of bone she broke. He also asked about her dementia. I got to be the mouthpiece of the family because I am good at keeping those sorts of dates and timeframes in my head. When Mom first became unable to recall this sort of thing and Sis had to do it, they had me write down all of her diagnosis and surgery dates.
So, we got to go back up to the Med-Surg floor after about an hour to see her. She was totally out of it. She was wearing an oxygen mask. She has problems with her blood pressure after surgery, and I think they probably gave her the oxygen to help that, too. She slept the rest of the day. We stayed in the lounge until about 6:30 that night, but then decided to go because the nurse said she'd probably sleep the rest of the day and into tomorrow. While we had been waiting, I went in to check on her once to see if she was asleep and I just looked at her. She's so small and frail. She looks just like her mom did when she was in the throes of Alzheimer's, except my mom still has dark brown hair, with very minimal gray. She's too young to have to be dealing with this stuff.
Pretty much, we're waiting to see how bad the anesthesia and the stress on her body messed her up. She'd been getting worse before the fall, and so I'm not confident that things will be good for her. It's so disconcerting.
But, instead of staying to be with my family, I came back to the castle early this morning so I could take a final and what not. I am conflicted. But, I'm here now, so I might as well make the most out of it. I would appreciate so much if you would (continue to) keep Ma in your prayers. I so much want her to have some peace. Alright, so I need to go have some lunch. Bye.
Wednesday, May 07, 2008
Some Thoughts
I was reading an article today in Christianity Today (the online version). The article is entitled, "A Little Office Humor Goes a Long Way." It speaks about how laughter is a gift from God, even though the Bible never explicitly says that Jesus laughed.
I for one, think that the mere fact that Jesus was a full human being means that, of course he laughed!
I think I've mentioned before that wherever I go, people tend to comment on my sense of humor, or my laugh, or the "impish michievousness right under my surface." The word, "impish" has actually been used multiple times to describe me. In a good way.
Anyway, I have been thinking about how laughter and a sense of humor is a spiritual gift. Sometimes I feel like I don't have enough "spiritual gifts," and I sell my sense of humor short. After all, what good does laughing REALLY do?
I think it does a world of good! When I am having a bad day or am feeling sad, a good laugh seems to reset me. Galatians 5:22-23 says, "By contrast, the fruit of the Spirit is love, JOY, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control" (emphasis mine). Laughter can be a good signature that one is joyful. And to go hand in hand with this verse, I think that a sense of humor can show these other fruits of the Spirit. When a friend can make me laugh, that shows kindness to me. I feel like I have received a gift from their generosity of being able to use their wit and charm to make me laugh. Also, I am far more apt to laugh at something said by someone I like or love than I am to laugh through jokes or some random person's comments. And I feel at peace when I am laughing. I forget the stresses and tribulations of life, if only for a few minutes.
So, that being said, I think I am really beginning to believe that my sense of humor is indeed a good and "valid" spiritual gift. It is a hope of mine that my sense of humor and my laughter blesses the lives of others in some way. In reflecting on this, I remember a time last semester, I think, when we were sitting in class and it was getting too intense or we were all getting really bored or something (I don't remember the specifics of the situation), and I made some silly comment and the whole class started laughing. I was slightly afraid it was timed improperly, but later, friends said that we needed that right then.
Laughter is a good thing. Frederick Buechner once said that there is "laughter of faith." What I think he was talking about is that even in the midst of the "stuff" of life, we can laugh because of the hope we have in Jesus. We can trust in faith that the promises of God in Christ are not willy-nilly, but are firmly bonded in the steadfast character of God, the awesome one.
Be blessed, my friends. And laugh. See you.
http://www.christianitytoday.com/workplace/articles/leadership/alittleofficehumor.html
I for one, think that the mere fact that Jesus was a full human being means that, of course he laughed!
I think I've mentioned before that wherever I go, people tend to comment on my sense of humor, or my laugh, or the "impish michievousness right under my surface." The word, "impish" has actually been used multiple times to describe me. In a good way.
Anyway, I have been thinking about how laughter and a sense of humor is a spiritual gift. Sometimes I feel like I don't have enough "spiritual gifts," and I sell my sense of humor short. After all, what good does laughing REALLY do?
I think it does a world of good! When I am having a bad day or am feeling sad, a good laugh seems to reset me. Galatians 5:22-23 says, "By contrast, the fruit of the Spirit is love, JOY, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control" (emphasis mine). Laughter can be a good signature that one is joyful. And to go hand in hand with this verse, I think that a sense of humor can show these other fruits of the Spirit. When a friend can make me laugh, that shows kindness to me. I feel like I have received a gift from their generosity of being able to use their wit and charm to make me laugh. Also, I am far more apt to laugh at something said by someone I like or love than I am to laugh through jokes or some random person's comments. And I feel at peace when I am laughing. I forget the stresses and tribulations of life, if only for a few minutes.
So, that being said, I think I am really beginning to believe that my sense of humor is indeed a good and "valid" spiritual gift. It is a hope of mine that my sense of humor and my laughter blesses the lives of others in some way. In reflecting on this, I remember a time last semester, I think, when we were sitting in class and it was getting too intense or we were all getting really bored or something (I don't remember the specifics of the situation), and I made some silly comment and the whole class started laughing. I was slightly afraid it was timed improperly, but later, friends said that we needed that right then.
Laughter is a good thing. Frederick Buechner once said that there is "laughter of faith." What I think he was talking about is that even in the midst of the "stuff" of life, we can laugh because of the hope we have in Jesus. We can trust in faith that the promises of God in Christ are not willy-nilly, but are firmly bonded in the steadfast character of God, the awesome one.
Be blessed, my friends. And laugh. See you.
http://www.christianitytoday.com/workplace/articles/leadership/alittleofficehumor.html
Monday, May 05, 2008
Cap'n Crunch!
Are you ready kids?
Aye aye Captain!
I Can't hear yoU!
AYE AYE, CAPTAIN!
OOOOOOhhh, who has lots of seminary papers due!
TRISHY, TRISHY!
Burnt out, and fried up, and zombie is who?!
TRISHY, TRISHY!
If THEO BABBLE BE SOMETHING YOU WISH!
TRISHY, TRISHY
Then pay attention to this girl named Trish!
TRISHY, TRISHY, TRISHY, TRISHY, TRISHY, TRISHY, TRISHY, TRISHEEEEEEEE!!
Dooododooodoodoo DO!
So... In case you couldn't tell, it's crunch time here at Seminary. I'm not really freaking out; I just wanted to stretch my rhyming/creative part of my brain. Yup. I have a sermon due tomorrow. I finished and started today, and am happy with it. I need the pressure... Seriously. I tried writing this thing a couple of days ago, but to no avail. I'm bad. Then, I have my big Systematic Theology paper due Tuesday. The paper part is done, but I have to finish my annotated bibliography, yet. I only have a few more articles and a book to write about. The big assignment I'm slightly concerned about is for Parish Worship. It's a group project. The only reason I'm stressin' is because I am very chill about this sort of thing and grades, but I don't want to mess up my group, ya know.. I like to be responsible when people are counting on me. But, seriously, it shouldn't be too big a deal. That's pretty much all that is "due" this week. Oh, and this thing for Pastoral Care, but I've had that done forever.
Next week is another big week though. We have our Pauline Letters final, a Systematic Theology final (we have conversations with small groups), a bulletin/paper for Parish Worship, and hmm... we also have to redo our four small Systematic Theology papers. Next week is going to be slightly more stressful. Ah well. I shall live. I promise.
It's almost summer. Peace to you all who are gearing up for summer activities, or who are going through finals and end of the year projects of your own. Keep ya chin up!
Aye aye Captain!
I Can't hear yoU!
AYE AYE, CAPTAIN!
OOOOOOhhh, who has lots of seminary papers due!
TRISHY, TRISHY!
Burnt out, and fried up, and zombie is who?!
TRISHY, TRISHY!
If THEO BABBLE BE SOMETHING YOU WISH!
TRISHY, TRISHY
Then pay attention to this girl named Trish!
TRISHY, TRISHY, TRISHY, TRISHY, TRISHY, TRISHY, TRISHY, TRISHEEEEEEEE!!
Dooododooodoodoo DO!
So... In case you couldn't tell, it's crunch time here at Seminary. I'm not really freaking out; I just wanted to stretch my rhyming/creative part of my brain. Yup. I have a sermon due tomorrow. I finished and started today, and am happy with it. I need the pressure... Seriously. I tried writing this thing a couple of days ago, but to no avail. I'm bad. Then, I have my big Systematic Theology paper due Tuesday. The paper part is done, but I have to finish my annotated bibliography, yet. I only have a few more articles and a book to write about. The big assignment I'm slightly concerned about is for Parish Worship. It's a group project. The only reason I'm stressin' is because I am very chill about this sort of thing and grades, but I don't want to mess up my group, ya know.. I like to be responsible when people are counting on me. But, seriously, it shouldn't be too big a deal. That's pretty much all that is "due" this week. Oh, and this thing for Pastoral Care, but I've had that done forever.
Next week is another big week though. We have our Pauline Letters final, a Systematic Theology final (we have conversations with small groups), a bulletin/paper for Parish Worship, and hmm... we also have to redo our four small Systematic Theology papers. Next week is going to be slightly more stressful. Ah well. I shall live. I promise.
It's almost summer. Peace to you all who are gearing up for summer activities, or who are going through finals and end of the year projects of your own. Keep ya chin up!
Thursday, May 01, 2008
Random
Well, it's 1:00 a.m. and I'm still up. I took a ridiculously long nap today, and so... here I am unable to sleep. Ah well. It was worth it. I was tired.
I think I am going to try to go to bed soon, though. I have a 7:30 a.m. class, and I'm also helping with communion tomorrow because it's Ascension Day! Yay Jesus!
Last but not least, I have Facebook, and I love the application, "Pieces of Flair." It's where you get a corkboard on your profile and you can add "buttons" to your board, either by yourself, or people can send them to you. There are a whole lot of REALLY funny ones. One that I was laughing at tonight (although I wouldn't put it on my board) is, "Ask Me About My Explosive Diarrhea." I'm a huge dork, but I don't care. Peace out, y'all.
I think I am going to try to go to bed soon, though. I have a 7:30 a.m. class, and I'm also helping with communion tomorrow because it's Ascension Day! Yay Jesus!
Last but not least, I have Facebook, and I love the application, "Pieces of Flair." It's where you get a corkboard on your profile and you can add "buttons" to your board, either by yourself, or people can send them to you. There are a whole lot of REALLY funny ones. One that I was laughing at tonight (although I wouldn't put it on my board) is, "Ask Me About My Explosive Diarrhea." I'm a huge dork, but I don't care. Peace out, y'all.
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
A fix, too
For my post about the Chapel Observation...
The Soli Deo Gloria setting was written BY Marty Haugen FOR Weston Noble for, like, the 50th anniversary of his leading the choir or something. My bad. We used that order of service again today, and I have to admit, I was laughing a little about the built in song when we got there. Maybe that's because I told some friends of my thoughts about it. Knowing that my musings may have been running through their heads at the same time they were running through my head is amusing to me.
However, I do have to say, the more I think about it, the less I like the particular song I'm thinking about. The verse us women folk sing basically says that we need protection and we need to be pure and spotless because we're women. And then, the men come in and sing all pretty much about male-power. Not overtly like that, and I thought perhaps I was being overly sensitive, but before I even said my thoughts regarding that, someone else brought it up. And I heard a couple more people talk about it today, too. So, I'm not alone in these, "This stuff is sexist!" thinking...
But, the rest of the service is quite lovely. It is one of my favorites, aside from that one song in there. And when there are people who are good at chanting/singing, it is made even better. So, with that, I'm out. It's Tuesday, and so a couple of us get together for Law & Order SVU and conversation, and perhaps some adult beverages. I think I finished my Systematic Theology paper today, but I still need to do a bunch of writing for the annotated bibliography that goes with it. I'm going to do some of that before I head down the hall. You all have a delightful evening.
The Soli Deo Gloria setting was written BY Marty Haugen FOR Weston Noble for, like, the 50th anniversary of his leading the choir or something. My bad. We used that order of service again today, and I have to admit, I was laughing a little about the built in song when we got there. Maybe that's because I told some friends of my thoughts about it. Knowing that my musings may have been running through their heads at the same time they were running through my head is amusing to me.
However, I do have to say, the more I think about it, the less I like the particular song I'm thinking about. The verse us women folk sing basically says that we need protection and we need to be pure and spotless because we're women. And then, the men come in and sing all pretty much about male-power. Not overtly like that, and I thought perhaps I was being overly sensitive, but before I even said my thoughts regarding that, someone else brought it up. And I heard a couple more people talk about it today, too. So, I'm not alone in these, "This stuff is sexist!" thinking...
But, the rest of the service is quite lovely. It is one of my favorites, aside from that one song in there. And when there are people who are good at chanting/singing, it is made even better. So, with that, I'm out. It's Tuesday, and so a couple of us get together for Law & Order SVU and conversation, and perhaps some adult beverages. I think I finished my Systematic Theology paper today, but I still need to do a bunch of writing for the annotated bibliography that goes with it. I'm going to do some of that before I head down the hall. You all have a delightful evening.
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