recently i was standing in a christian bookstore, not an abnormal experience for me. me and books...well, we have a love affair going. i love them. i take them everywhere i go. i've got probably seven or eight in my car, three or four in the bathroom and by my bed, a ton more scattered around the apartment and boxes and boxes of books that i'm trying to figure out how to fit in my three room apartment. i mean do i really need a kitchen table? beds are overrated too. my books usually look like they've been through the ringer. i love their shape, the texture of the page, their thinnes or thickness, their smell. yes i admit it. i open books up, especially new or old and leather bound ones and smell them. i need help; it's true.
but the thing is as i stood in the bookstore i became rather irritated and made a discovery. some books are apparently female and some obviously, to everyone but me, male. now let me preface everything i write here. i believe that men and women are different; we process the same information, many times, completely different. i believe that there are some fairly safe assumptions/generalizations that can be made about women and men. we could argue all day if it's because we are born that way or because society shapes us that way. you know, the old nature vs. nurture argument. is it genetics or grandma? i don't know. the truth is probably both and i won't bore you with my closet feminist viewpoints. the fact is there are differences.
so i understand that there will and should be books that speak to men about men's issues and women's books that speak to women about women's issues. issues being those things, that be it because of our in born nature or our society's infauation with pre-defined ideas of masculinity and feminity, that more directly involve one sex or the other. and there will and should be books for men by men and for women by women. i can definitely tell you that my spirituality is deeply rooted in the fact that i am woman. so i get that and for the sake of convenience i understand the whole sectioning off of areas and subsequent labeling of said sections as "Men's Issues" and "Women's Issues".
but tell me is leadership really a man's issue? is money management soley a man's issue? why is that books written on leadership by John Maxwell - books that deal with being a leader be you male or female - fall only under the Men's Section? why is it that books by Billy Graham about pursuing a God ordained path lie in the Men's Section? are we in the christian world that regulated to these ideas of what makes a man a man and a woman a woman that we believe that women obviously don't manage money or have interest in it so those books should go to the Men's Section and women can't or don't care to be leaders or know about living a life of purpose? and while i realize we are different, are we that different? do women really not care about money and being leaders? do men really not care about anything to do with emotions and trying to be perfect and struggling with self esteem? are we so blind that we don't see that potential is lost on both sides when we regulate women to tasks and ideas that are void of leadership in their personal and professional walks as well as zapping men of their potential when we pretend that they do not struggle with deep seated emotional issues as well?
i'm sorry for this seemingly tirade but it bothers me that to pick up a book on leadership by a well known and great author that i must "trespass" into a section that clearly states that if you have the ablility to carry children this isn't for you. or walk to the cash register with a book that the cash register will assume was, of course, bought for my husband.
so i was wondering...are your books male or female?
7/31/2006
7/26/2006
would Jesus go to Rudy's Tacos?
today i met a friend at Rudy’s Taco. we chatted about relationships, the ups, the downs, my divorce, her girlfriend, what makes a person go to hell or not go to hell, what makes someone right with God. it was a nice to sit and eat, to chat with someone about life and God, to laugh and to share from the heart. but it got me to thinking…
you know the wrist bands that have become so popular. you can find them at just about any retail shop and in just about any color you like. every “cause” has caught on and you can wear one for breast cancer, domestic violence, ending poverty, peace or war. you can advertise your opinions, your experience, your just-about-anything-you-can-name. these wrist bands have combined with another late great fad, the W.W.J.D. (What Would Jesus Do?) movement.
and today’s conversation had me wondering just that. but more than what Jesus would do, i had another question that kept popping up as i drove back to work. W.W.J.G.: Where Would Jesus Go? or perhaps Where Wouldn’t Jesus Go describes my thoughts more accurately. are there places Jesus wouldn’t go? are there places he would avoid, not out of a self-righteous I’m-too-holy-for-this-place, or out of fear that sin would rub off, but rather because it is wrong or for the need to make a statement about some moral or social ill?
if he lived and breathed among us today how would he balance the New Testament call to “abstain from all appearance of evil” and yet be the man that appalled the religious leaders of his day, a man they said was a ‘glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and “sinners?” ’
you know the wrist bands that have become so popular. you can find them at just about any retail shop and in just about any color you like. every “cause” has caught on and you can wear one for breast cancer, domestic violence, ending poverty, peace or war. you can advertise your opinions, your experience, your just-about-anything-you-can-name. these wrist bands have combined with another late great fad, the W.W.J.D. (What Would Jesus Do?) movement.
and today’s conversation had me wondering just that. but more than what Jesus would do, i had another question that kept popping up as i drove back to work. W.W.J.G.: Where Would Jesus Go? or perhaps Where Wouldn’t Jesus Go describes my thoughts more accurately. are there places Jesus wouldn’t go? are there places he would avoid, not out of a self-righteous I’m-too-holy-for-this-place, or out of fear that sin would rub off, but rather because it is wrong or for the need to make a statement about some moral or social ill?
if he lived and breathed among us today how would he balance the New Testament call to “abstain from all appearance of evil” and yet be the man that appalled the religious leaders of his day, a man they said was a ‘glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and “sinners?” ’
7/23/2006
i'm old - the proof is in the oreo's
so i'm taking care of a midnight craving for oreo cookies at my local hy-vee store. problem is i can't find the oreos. yes i know they are in the cookie aisle and i know what they look like. but i can't find them. or more accurately i can't find the kind i want. i can find peanut butter creme oreo cookies and mint creme oreo cookies and chocolate creme oreo cookies (all double stuf). there are, of course, several double stuf oreo cookies for my tasting enjoyment, but no plain old original oreo cookies. that's all i wanted. just plain old oreo cookies.
after much scanning i locate them on the next to last shelf from the bottom. all the way to the right a few spare packages sit. it's not that they are so popular that there's only a few left. no it's all the space hy-vee has chosen to spare this original form of oreo cookie. and this isn't the first time i've had this experience in a cookie aisle looking for oreo cookies.
so i think to myself, at 12:33 AM, now irritated rather than delighted at my found package of original oreo cookies, "what is wrong with the original? what? they aren't good enough? what happen to this oreo cookie being the latest and greatest in cookie invention and dunking sensation?" i found myself wondering what had happened to this world. where had we gone wrong? wishing for the good old days when original oreo cookies were the bomb! and they didn't have to compete with these new fangled cookies, when they were just good enough and we were happy with original oreo cookies.
and as i passed my money over to the lady at the cash register, it happened. i turned old.
after much scanning i locate them on the next to last shelf from the bottom. all the way to the right a few spare packages sit. it's not that they are so popular that there's only a few left. no it's all the space hy-vee has chosen to spare this original form of oreo cookie. and this isn't the first time i've had this experience in a cookie aisle looking for oreo cookies.
so i think to myself, at 12:33 AM, now irritated rather than delighted at my found package of original oreo cookies, "what is wrong with the original? what? they aren't good enough? what happen to this oreo cookie being the latest and greatest in cookie invention and dunking sensation?" i found myself wondering what had happened to this world. where had we gone wrong? wishing for the good old days when original oreo cookies were the bomb! and they didn't have to compete with these new fangled cookies, when they were just good enough and we were happy with original oreo cookies.
and as i passed my money over to the lady at the cash register, it happened. i turned old.
7/16/2006
waiting for the other shoe to drop
i've been thinking about faith lately cus there's something out there that i want and i just don't want it but i believe it is in His plan. but i also know that the path i see may not be the path He chooses. i also know that i need Him to come through. i'm at the end of everything. i find myself trying to be hopeful and not get my hopes up. i'm trying to rest my faith not on what i believe He will or won't do but upon His person, that no matter what i'll be okay.
when my mother was going through cancer lots of people came to me and told me that God was going to heal her. they said God had to heal her because of how strong her faith was. they said God had to heal her because so many people were praying. i know they meant well and i am sure that many would be surprised to discover that behind my rehearsed "thank you" and regurgitated smile their comments actually made me angry. unless they had a direct line from the Almighty they just could not guarantee things. now don't get me wrong. i believe that God can heal. i do not doubt his ability. nor do i question His love for us. i just wonder if we understand the God we serve, one not manipulated by attaining a certain number of prayers.
in fact i found that idea - that simply because i have enough faith or pray long enough or hard enough or get the right number of people to pray that that means God will come through - contrary to what i found in God's word. look at stephen. stoned to death. yet was his faith not great? did people not pray? look at the many who laid by the pool of bethesda and yet we know of only one that was healed on the day Jesus passed by. we know that even though Jesus raised lazarus from the dead he still had to die, a point we seem to sometimes play down. and what about the three hebrew children who stood before a fiery furnance and when asked about their God and whether He would save them did not say "yes He will" or "we know He will", but rather that He, their God, was capable of saving them but whether He did or didn't, didn't alter their decision. they trusted in the character of God over God's ability to do a certain act. they trusted that God would do what was best and see them through.
and i found through my mother's cancer a bit of that faith. i have learned to trust God's character. i have come to have faith in who God is and not simply what He will do when i pray. i believe that God can heal, but i also believe that God sees eternity and the lives of many who interact in ways we cannot fathom and that if it brings glory to His name He may choose a path i did not see or like. i also believe that God's idea of healing and my idea can be quite distant from one another, because i am limited by my human frailty and can see only this life and it's attachment to this earth.
this has been good for me...this learning to trust His character. learning to know that He will take care of me because He is a good God who wants to bring good into my life. i find more stability and less emotional flipping and flopping as i gain more knowledge of just who my God is.
and yet there are times when i feel the almost spiritual urging to hope for something specific and i hem and haw. i go back to my recent lessons on trusting in His character and that faith is based not on His actions but on who He is. but if i am honest i have to admit that there is part of me that reasons that that is simply a cover up, a way to avoid believing in the here and now, in hoping for something good from God's hand.
see even though the three hebrew children never said they believed that God would save them and their faith was not based on that, i can't help but feel a sense of hope. i can't but believe that they were hoping, wanting, and believing that He would save them knowing that regardless of the outcome they'd be okay. and see that's it...i just don't trust the outcome.
the hebrew children stated that their God could save them but they would serve Him either way. i say, "i believe God can save me and i'll serve Him no matter what, but just for the record He probably won't come through". truth is i still want control. it's like walking out on a limb. you can walk out trusting it will support you and knowing if it doesn't God's got your fall. but let's face it folks if you walk out and you know ahead of time it's gonna fall it sure helps. i mean that way you can prepare yourself for the fall, position your legs just so. you can look down at the bottom and try to shift your weight to soften the blow. and therein lies the problem. faith gives up control. faith trusts. truth is i don't to walk out believing the limb will hold to suddenly find myself free falling and trying to figure out a plan B mid-fall. and that is where my faith gets stunted. faith walks out believing the limb will hold. faith walks out knowing that if it doesn't hold it doesn't have to find plan B - a limb on the way down, a softer bit of grass to land on, or flap it's wings to stay air borne - it knows that God will offer the limb, be our pillow or our wind. He doesn't need me to do anything...but trust.
see i'm still waiting for the other shoe to drop. there's still a part of me that believes He just might not come through. i just might not be all right in the end. there's fear there that doesn't let me let go and enjoy the fall. but somewhere in there i still feel this urging to hope and to hope for something specific and good and real and tangible, never negating that God is soveriegn.
for the first time maybe i understand the man's request in the bible. Lord, I believe. Help thou my unbelief.
when my mother was going through cancer lots of people came to me and told me that God was going to heal her. they said God had to heal her because of how strong her faith was. they said God had to heal her because so many people were praying. i know they meant well and i am sure that many would be surprised to discover that behind my rehearsed "thank you" and regurgitated smile their comments actually made me angry. unless they had a direct line from the Almighty they just could not guarantee things. now don't get me wrong. i believe that God can heal. i do not doubt his ability. nor do i question His love for us. i just wonder if we understand the God we serve, one not manipulated by attaining a certain number of prayers.
in fact i found that idea - that simply because i have enough faith or pray long enough or hard enough or get the right number of people to pray that that means God will come through - contrary to what i found in God's word. look at stephen. stoned to death. yet was his faith not great? did people not pray? look at the many who laid by the pool of bethesda and yet we know of only one that was healed on the day Jesus passed by. we know that even though Jesus raised lazarus from the dead he still had to die, a point we seem to sometimes play down. and what about the three hebrew children who stood before a fiery furnance and when asked about their God and whether He would save them did not say "yes He will" or "we know He will", but rather that He, their God, was capable of saving them but whether He did or didn't, didn't alter their decision. they trusted in the character of God over God's ability to do a certain act. they trusted that God would do what was best and see them through.
and i found through my mother's cancer a bit of that faith. i have learned to trust God's character. i have come to have faith in who God is and not simply what He will do when i pray. i believe that God can heal, but i also believe that God sees eternity and the lives of many who interact in ways we cannot fathom and that if it brings glory to His name He may choose a path i did not see or like. i also believe that God's idea of healing and my idea can be quite distant from one another, because i am limited by my human frailty and can see only this life and it's attachment to this earth.
this has been good for me...this learning to trust His character. learning to know that He will take care of me because He is a good God who wants to bring good into my life. i find more stability and less emotional flipping and flopping as i gain more knowledge of just who my God is.
and yet there are times when i feel the almost spiritual urging to hope for something specific and i hem and haw. i go back to my recent lessons on trusting in His character and that faith is based not on His actions but on who He is. but if i am honest i have to admit that there is part of me that reasons that that is simply a cover up, a way to avoid believing in the here and now, in hoping for something good from God's hand.
see even though the three hebrew children never said they believed that God would save them and their faith was not based on that, i can't help but feel a sense of hope. i can't but believe that they were hoping, wanting, and believing that He would save them knowing that regardless of the outcome they'd be okay. and see that's it...i just don't trust the outcome.
the hebrew children stated that their God could save them but they would serve Him either way. i say, "i believe God can save me and i'll serve Him no matter what, but just for the record He probably won't come through". truth is i still want control. it's like walking out on a limb. you can walk out trusting it will support you and knowing if it doesn't God's got your fall. but let's face it folks if you walk out and you know ahead of time it's gonna fall it sure helps. i mean that way you can prepare yourself for the fall, position your legs just so. you can look down at the bottom and try to shift your weight to soften the blow. and therein lies the problem. faith gives up control. faith trusts. truth is i don't to walk out believing the limb will hold to suddenly find myself free falling and trying to figure out a plan B mid-fall. and that is where my faith gets stunted. faith walks out believing the limb will hold. faith walks out knowing that if it doesn't hold it doesn't have to find plan B - a limb on the way down, a softer bit of grass to land on, or flap it's wings to stay air borne - it knows that God will offer the limb, be our pillow or our wind. He doesn't need me to do anything...but trust.
see i'm still waiting for the other shoe to drop. there's still a part of me that believes He just might not come through. i just might not be all right in the end. there's fear there that doesn't let me let go and enjoy the fall. but somewhere in there i still feel this urging to hope and to hope for something specific and good and real and tangible, never negating that God is soveriegn.
for the first time maybe i understand the man's request in the bible. Lord, I believe. Help thou my unbelief.
7/15/2006
faces, hipbones and names
genesis 32:22-32
I don’t want you to win,
to take your leave of me.
I want my socket to slip,
to ride loose because you
could not rid yourself of me.
I want to speak with
such insistence that holds you
to me till you name that
which not even I can see.
And when the sun shines down
my path will be marked, not nice
and neat, but by one who limps.
And those who follow will know
that a life wrestled is a
life changed
a life that has seen the Face
is a life spared.
I don’t want you to win,
to take your leave of me.
I want my socket to slip,
to ride loose because you
could not rid yourself of me.
I want to speak with
such insistence that holds you
to me till you name that
which not even I can see.
And when the sun shines down
my path will be marked, not nice
and neat, but by one who limps.
And those who follow will know
that a life wrestled is a
life changed
a life that has seen the Face
is a life spared.
Thomas Merton
i came across this prayer the other day and well it so captured what i feel. it says what i cannot seem to say to God. it seems lately i feel on the brink of something...something great or just a temper tantrum fit. i just know that i want God to come through; i'm waiting for the sun to come just over the horizon. instead i find myself getting very acquainted with the 5 o'clock sky - that muted blue. and i'm trying to trust. to know that the sun may not rise here yet but it's a shining somewhere. it's there. even my muted blue sky tells me there is light, just at the edge, pushing the midnight blue sky further and further out.
My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think that I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road though I may know nothing about it. Therefore will I trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.
Thomas Merton, "Thoughts in Solitude"
My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think that I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this you will lead me by the right road though I may know nothing about it. Therefore will I trust you always though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone.
Thomas Merton, "Thoughts in Solitude"
7/08/2006
Waitress No-No's
In no specific order, they are:
- NO snapping your fingers. We are not dogs and do not respond to snapping, psst...psst, or "here waitress, waitress."
- Do not holler across the restaurant "Miss", "Miss". If we do not respond we either can't because of some pressing obligation, can't hear you or it is possible we are ignoring you for a reason.
- Do not interrupt another customer's order to tell us something.
- Do not order with your mouth full of crackers. Not only is it disgusting, but we go home smelling as it is. no need to add your saliva to our sweat or grease.
- Please speak up. We can carry large trays of food, leap over chairs and running children, and make food appear but we cannot hear you when you whisper.
- Do look at us when ordering or asking for something. We are not your maid or servant or slave and therefore it is customary to respond to us as if we were a living, breathing, soul.
- Do not talk on your cell phone when ordering. Either have the person you are with ready to give your order, asking the person on the phone to hold on and order, or...imagine this...turn off the phone completely and tell the person you'll call them back.
- Do not let your child run the restuarant. It is not their personal jungle gym.
- Do not leave a Jesus track, but no tip. And for that matter, if we see you bow your head in prayer it is so vital that you do number 6 and smile. And even exercise a little patience especially if we screw something up...you do remember that little thing called grace, right?
- Don't be cheap. And if you are going to be cheap than at least don't be picky and be patient and make us laugh.
3 years and a buck eighty five
so i'm reading TIME magazine and they have this section called numbers where they list odd, unusual or perplexing statistics. example: there was an 80% decrease in the risk of alcoholic cirrhosis that can result from drinking four cups of coffee a day, according to a new study. this number is followed with this statistic: average cups of coffee drunk by the average american each day...3.2 cups. interesting. light. thought provoking.
the numbers that caught my eye though had little to do with our drinking habits. according to the magazine a woman in pennsylvania was sentenced to 3 years for telling her 6 year old daughter to steal a firefighting squad's fund raising jar. guess how much was in the jar? that's right folks. $1.85. the woman was a heroin addict apparently and told police that she needed it for gas money. now that may or may not be true and at current gas rates would have gotten her to the next fire station house if she was lucky (pardon the sarcasm). but i question the reasoning of a society that sentences a woman to 3 years for encouraging her child to steal what amounts to change on the bottom of my car floor.
perhaps it's not so much her sentencing that bothers me. i'm all for tough love and who knows the woman's background and the number of times she has been in trouble with the police and social agencies. and obviously encouraging a child to steal, especially your own, is never ideal and it is safe to assume the child is being exposed or taught other things that are not healthy or good besides stealing. it's the other statistics that bother me I guess.
take for example that according to the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel, state statistics showed that the average sentence in 1998 for a single count felony sex crime which included rape and child molestation was 4 1/2 years. would the woman have gotten 4 1/2 years if there had been .90 more cents in the fundraising jar. and that is a statistic that is repeated over and over or so it seems the media would have us believe.
now i don't want to sound uncaring. i do not believe that locking "them" all up is the solution and i question whether or not limiting where sex offenders can live is going to decrease child molestation when statistics (more numbers) show that most children are abused not by the man leering out from behind his curtain down the block from the school yard but by an uncle, a brother, a next door neighbor or grandpa. having worked with juvenile sex offenders i know that the problem is not as simple as we want to believe. our laws that restrict may be more a desire to ease our fears but not really do anything to fix the problem. but that's a whole another rant.
i just wonder where we pull the numbers, the years we choose to take or make a person give up for their crime. i believe laws are there and when broken there are and should be consequences. and i'm thankful that i'm not a judge or God because i'd probably blast someone to the moon that needed a little more grace and one more chance and let an axe murderer go out the door.
in the end i just am perplexed at the value we place on a soul/a spirit, when until the current century, abusing a child: contributing to the loss of something so essential and precious and that has not just emotional costs to the individual and family but economical and socieital impacts years down the line (think of lost labor and revenue because people cannot reach their potential or end up on drugs or on the streets or with mental issues who we support because they cannot work) costs you only 5 years of your life and stealing, albeit encouraging the delinquency of a minor, for a $1.85 gets you three.
the numbers that caught my eye though had little to do with our drinking habits. according to the magazine a woman in pennsylvania was sentenced to 3 years for telling her 6 year old daughter to steal a firefighting squad's fund raising jar. guess how much was in the jar? that's right folks. $1.85. the woman was a heroin addict apparently and told police that she needed it for gas money. now that may or may not be true and at current gas rates would have gotten her to the next fire station house if she was lucky (pardon the sarcasm). but i question the reasoning of a society that sentences a woman to 3 years for encouraging her child to steal what amounts to change on the bottom of my car floor.
perhaps it's not so much her sentencing that bothers me. i'm all for tough love and who knows the woman's background and the number of times she has been in trouble with the police and social agencies. and obviously encouraging a child to steal, especially your own, is never ideal and it is safe to assume the child is being exposed or taught other things that are not healthy or good besides stealing. it's the other statistics that bother me I guess.
take for example that according to the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel, state statistics showed that the average sentence in 1998 for a single count felony sex crime which included rape and child molestation was 4 1/2 years. would the woman have gotten 4 1/2 years if there had been .90 more cents in the fundraising jar. and that is a statistic that is repeated over and over or so it seems the media would have us believe.
now i don't want to sound uncaring. i do not believe that locking "them" all up is the solution and i question whether or not limiting where sex offenders can live is going to decrease child molestation when statistics (more numbers) show that most children are abused not by the man leering out from behind his curtain down the block from the school yard but by an uncle, a brother, a next door neighbor or grandpa. having worked with juvenile sex offenders i know that the problem is not as simple as we want to believe. our laws that restrict may be more a desire to ease our fears but not really do anything to fix the problem. but that's a whole another rant.
i just wonder where we pull the numbers, the years we choose to take or make a person give up for their crime. i believe laws are there and when broken there are and should be consequences. and i'm thankful that i'm not a judge or God because i'd probably blast someone to the moon that needed a little more grace and one more chance and let an axe murderer go out the door.
in the end i just am perplexed at the value we place on a soul/a spirit, when until the current century, abusing a child: contributing to the loss of something so essential and precious and that has not just emotional costs to the individual and family but economical and socieital impacts years down the line (think of lost labor and revenue because people cannot reach their potential or end up on drugs or on the streets or with mental issues who we support because they cannot work) costs you only 5 years of your life and stealing, albeit encouraging the delinquency of a minor, for a $1.85 gets you three.
toss the pants? keep the pants?
i have this…i guess you could call it a dilemma, though i don’t know if that is really the right word for it. it seems somehow, somewhere along the way, i’ve begun accumulating hurts. wounds. as if i picked them up in a bag while hunting for seashells or like burrs as you walk through a field. you know one is annoying but sometimes you don’t even notice it for awhile and before long you emerge on the gravel road and both of your pant leg bottoms are covered in them. and they can be tricky to remove and you usually end up sticking yourself in the process. sometimes it’s better to just take the pants off (of course, not on the gravel road) and toss ‘em. which is what brings me to my present dilemma.
see i have this relationship with a good friend and her husband, who i would also call a friend. somewhere in time something was said that shouldn’t have been said. i don’t know why it was said and i’m pretty sure it wasn’t mean exactly the way it came out and yet, it was a pretty direct comment so it revealed some of what was probably thought of me. now this person has apologized and not one of those cheap apologies that says “if I hurt you i’m sorry” or “i’m sorry you took it the wrong way”. it was a sincere apology that said “i’m sorry that something i said hurt you, that somehow i was careless with my words in a way that wounded you.” now this individual also, i think, thought i was being a bit sensitive but they still apologized and i think that counts for something. and i said i forgive and by god’s grace i do, but then again maybe my “do” is more a “sort of”.
‘cus see now i feel like a meteor has landed right in the middle of our path and we stand divided. each of us on one side. and it’s not fair b/c it wasn’t even her that said it, but i can’t help but wonder if the words he spoke echoed both their sentiments on some level. no one has denied saying the words or that they meant some version of them, only that perhaps i was being sensitive or misunderstood and that perhaps they did not communicate their idea the best way. so here we sit. each on one side. now the question is how do i proceed. do i just head on down through the damage, the hot coals under my feet and meet her and we work it out? Or do we build a bridge over it? Or do we just build a path around it? sometimes i think with wounds you have to plunge into the hot mess and get burned and build right the road right on top to get through it. i also think sometimes it’s best to find a way to acknowledge but no need to test the land to see if it’s still good. just build a bridge over it and go forward. and other times it’s best to leave it alone. that doesn’t mean to ignore it or pretend it didn’t happen but i think many times we have this idea that we need to “discuss it” and that is really just a camouflage for our desire, and maybe even on some level need, to be heard. and wonder how much grace is at work when we trudge forward to “fix” a problem and tell our side. we unburden ourselves but have created a burden for someone else. and that is really what i want to offer. grace. i mean, like i’ve never exploded on someone, never been tired and said something i didn’t mean or worded something the wrong way and it just came out different than i meant, or said something i meant but a lot harsher than it needed to be. and when i do, don’t i want grace? don’t i hope, even expect, forgiveness?
truth is the question isn’t so much what to do. that is really the easy part. you pick one and move forward and adjust as needed. i’m of the camp that doing something is usually better than doing nothing. i am no fan of passivity. i think what bothers me as i sit on the edge, dangle my feet and sigh is that i’m just not sure i want to bother and that is where i feel awful. this is a person who has been a good friend to me. a loyal friend. and for one moment of humanity i’m going to chuck it all? and yet i am just not sure that i have the energy to handle one more hurt. that seems so self pity like and i hate it, but it’s the truth at this point. the bad timing isn’t the words that were spoken, my misunderstanding or their poor communication, or the time of day. the bad timing is that it occurs after one too many of them. and again that seems so pathetic and “poor me”. i guess part of the reason i hesitate to move forward is that over the last year i’ve exposed my vulnerability and some of the inner core of me and ive taken help. the words that were spoken make me wonder if somehow the dynamics have changed; the power has shifted in some way. i don’t do well with self righteousness or people who assume they are not capable of the same things i am. and yes i know that that very statement carries with it the very scent of self-righteousness. but i don’t do well with self exposure. oh this i can handle. this is me choosing to show myself, not you walking in on me butt naked. it’s one thing to choose to walk down the school hallway naked as a jay bird (which i have no idea why a jay bird is more naked than, say a cardinal) and another to wake up at home and all your drawers are empty and you have no choice but to walk naked down the hallway.
and that’s where i sit, at the edge, feet dangling, knowing i’ve changed, knowing she’s changed, we all do, knowing ain’t podoy nerfect, thankful for their friendship and loyalty and yet feeling adrift in the relationship, distant and not sure if i could get through, around, or by that i have the energy to do so. that i want to bother and that my friends is a very sad reality.
i've been the "bother" before in someone's else life and that's a hurt i don't know will ever be erased. i find lately that i just want to “take my pants off and toss them” and that scares me.
see i have this relationship with a good friend and her husband, who i would also call a friend. somewhere in time something was said that shouldn’t have been said. i don’t know why it was said and i’m pretty sure it wasn’t mean exactly the way it came out and yet, it was a pretty direct comment so it revealed some of what was probably thought of me. now this person has apologized and not one of those cheap apologies that says “if I hurt you i’m sorry” or “i’m sorry you took it the wrong way”. it was a sincere apology that said “i’m sorry that something i said hurt you, that somehow i was careless with my words in a way that wounded you.” now this individual also, i think, thought i was being a bit sensitive but they still apologized and i think that counts for something. and i said i forgive and by god’s grace i do, but then again maybe my “do” is more a “sort of”.
‘cus see now i feel like a meteor has landed right in the middle of our path and we stand divided. each of us on one side. and it’s not fair b/c it wasn’t even her that said it, but i can’t help but wonder if the words he spoke echoed both their sentiments on some level. no one has denied saying the words or that they meant some version of them, only that perhaps i was being sensitive or misunderstood and that perhaps they did not communicate their idea the best way. so here we sit. each on one side. now the question is how do i proceed. do i just head on down through the damage, the hot coals under my feet and meet her and we work it out? Or do we build a bridge over it? Or do we just build a path around it? sometimes i think with wounds you have to plunge into the hot mess and get burned and build right the road right on top to get through it. i also think sometimes it’s best to find a way to acknowledge but no need to test the land to see if it’s still good. just build a bridge over it and go forward. and other times it’s best to leave it alone. that doesn’t mean to ignore it or pretend it didn’t happen but i think many times we have this idea that we need to “discuss it” and that is really just a camouflage for our desire, and maybe even on some level need, to be heard. and wonder how much grace is at work when we trudge forward to “fix” a problem and tell our side. we unburden ourselves but have created a burden for someone else. and that is really what i want to offer. grace. i mean, like i’ve never exploded on someone, never been tired and said something i didn’t mean or worded something the wrong way and it just came out different than i meant, or said something i meant but a lot harsher than it needed to be. and when i do, don’t i want grace? don’t i hope, even expect, forgiveness?
truth is the question isn’t so much what to do. that is really the easy part. you pick one and move forward and adjust as needed. i’m of the camp that doing something is usually better than doing nothing. i am no fan of passivity. i think what bothers me as i sit on the edge, dangle my feet and sigh is that i’m just not sure i want to bother and that is where i feel awful. this is a person who has been a good friend to me. a loyal friend. and for one moment of humanity i’m going to chuck it all? and yet i am just not sure that i have the energy to handle one more hurt. that seems so self pity like and i hate it, but it’s the truth at this point. the bad timing isn’t the words that were spoken, my misunderstanding or their poor communication, or the time of day. the bad timing is that it occurs after one too many of them. and again that seems so pathetic and “poor me”. i guess part of the reason i hesitate to move forward is that over the last year i’ve exposed my vulnerability and some of the inner core of me and ive taken help. the words that were spoken make me wonder if somehow the dynamics have changed; the power has shifted in some way. i don’t do well with self righteousness or people who assume they are not capable of the same things i am. and yes i know that that very statement carries with it the very scent of self-righteousness. but i don’t do well with self exposure. oh this i can handle. this is me choosing to show myself, not you walking in on me butt naked. it’s one thing to choose to walk down the school hallway naked as a jay bird (which i have no idea why a jay bird is more naked than, say a cardinal) and another to wake up at home and all your drawers are empty and you have no choice but to walk naked down the hallway.
and that’s where i sit, at the edge, feet dangling, knowing i’ve changed, knowing she’s changed, we all do, knowing ain’t podoy nerfect, thankful for their friendship and loyalty and yet feeling adrift in the relationship, distant and not sure if i could get through, around, or by that i have the energy to do so. that i want to bother and that my friends is a very sad reality.
i've been the "bother" before in someone's else life and that's a hurt i don't know will ever be erased. i find lately that i just want to “take my pants off and toss them” and that scares me.
grace and bologna
most people i'm sure are wondering how in the world one gets grace with bologna or bologna with grace. i mean, who thinks of oscar mayer when hearing about grace, be it God's grace or the grace of a dancer. and when you bite into a bologna sandwich made from your fridge at home i doubt you're thinking about Christ crucified or the way a ballerina shimmers on her toes across stage. it's not like you can order a side of grace when you are eating at a restaurant and you order a sandwich but i guess that is what i'm after. see, grace to me that you could order along with your swiss reuben or monte cristo is the grace i'm after. now i realize there are those that would argue pursuing such a grace cheapens it. grace that can be ordered at your local fast food restaurant or picked up off a shelf at the five and dime store in the strip mall by the gas station is cheap. and the good Lord knows i don't mean to devalue His grace or love or sacrifice, but i think sometimes we've made grace more about our convenience than about being accessible.
see, i think if we were totally honest sometimes grace that is revered and lovely is...well, easier for us to digest. it's simple and pure. we can take from it in orchestrated moments we call church. now don't get me wrong. i love church and find those moments that have been prepared and thought out and labored over in love can bring me to the throne of God and send me reeling with such awesomeness. and that's great because that is grace in motion, in action. it is by grace that we get to stroll right into the arms of God as he reclines in His easy chair taking great pleasure in us and enjoying our company. grace makes those orchestrated moments possible. without grace all the practice and talent in the world is well...pretty music, but not passion infused with a divine presence. without grace our praise does not become tangible, but put grace in there like hot salsa and you get something that lacks words.
quite honestly i think grace should be a verb really. grace by its very design was meant to be lived in all our moments, unorchestrated or orchestrated. grace is found in the beauty of musicians that have come together with one purpose and one heart using their talents to glorify God and usher us in to His heavenly living room. but grace is also found in moments when i least expect it. when someone offers a stranger a smile or maybe pays for someone's meal for absolutely no reason other than it is within their power to do so. grace is opening your home. grace is listening. grace is praying for someone because you can. grace is sharing your struggles and weaknesses as well as from your riches and strength. grace is about being honest about who you are...and being honest about what grace has made you and is making you.
grace is meant to follow us and fill us wherever we go. it's not something we come to or enjoy when the weather is right. it should be our very air. and grace is meant to not be cheap but it is meant to be accessible to everyone. and i guess i just long for grace that i can get out of the fridge just like i do bologna. i hunger for grace that i can eat that will fill me up, taste like chocolate or even broccoli when good clean healthy food is what i really need and am craving but don't even know it. i want grace that translates to real life, real people so when i'm waitressing and there's a chance to talk about my God and His grace it's doable, it connects, it makes sense, and well it seems not necessarily convenient but available to someone no matter what. see anyone that i allow to come into my home, can if they want (though i might cringe at their lack of manners) grab from my fridge. the reality is that people are grabbing from us all the time and we them. when you engage in relationships with people, grabbing happens. so what are people grabbing when they grab bologna from my fridge?
do they get a chance to rub up against the grace i have there or did i leave grace at the store (church) where it's better able to stay "fresh"?
see, i think if we were totally honest sometimes grace that is revered and lovely is...well, easier for us to digest. it's simple and pure. we can take from it in orchestrated moments we call church. now don't get me wrong. i love church and find those moments that have been prepared and thought out and labored over in love can bring me to the throne of God and send me reeling with such awesomeness. and that's great because that is grace in motion, in action. it is by grace that we get to stroll right into the arms of God as he reclines in His easy chair taking great pleasure in us and enjoying our company. grace makes those orchestrated moments possible. without grace all the practice and talent in the world is well...pretty music, but not passion infused with a divine presence. without grace our praise does not become tangible, but put grace in there like hot salsa and you get something that lacks words.
quite honestly i think grace should be a verb really. grace by its very design was meant to be lived in all our moments, unorchestrated or orchestrated. grace is found in the beauty of musicians that have come together with one purpose and one heart using their talents to glorify God and usher us in to His heavenly living room. but grace is also found in moments when i least expect it. when someone offers a stranger a smile or maybe pays for someone's meal for absolutely no reason other than it is within their power to do so. grace is opening your home. grace is listening. grace is praying for someone because you can. grace is sharing your struggles and weaknesses as well as from your riches and strength. grace is about being honest about who you are...and being honest about what grace has made you and is making you.
grace is meant to follow us and fill us wherever we go. it's not something we come to or enjoy when the weather is right. it should be our very air. and grace is meant to not be cheap but it is meant to be accessible to everyone. and i guess i just long for grace that i can get out of the fridge just like i do bologna. i hunger for grace that i can eat that will fill me up, taste like chocolate or even broccoli when good clean healthy food is what i really need and am craving but don't even know it. i want grace that translates to real life, real people so when i'm waitressing and there's a chance to talk about my God and His grace it's doable, it connects, it makes sense, and well it seems not necessarily convenient but available to someone no matter what. see anyone that i allow to come into my home, can if they want (though i might cringe at their lack of manners) grab from my fridge. the reality is that people are grabbing from us all the time and we them. when you engage in relationships with people, grabbing happens. so what are people grabbing when they grab bologna from my fridge?
do they get a chance to rub up against the grace i have there or did i leave grace at the store (church) where it's better able to stay "fresh"?
why write
so here i am writing assuming that there are people out there who care to here what i have to say. of course, the mere expression of my rambling thoughts has always been a minor point behind why i write. truth is i find writing to be more a selfish pursuit, an egotistical one if you will. i write because i have a need to. it's really that simple. i write because somehow by placing words, letters arranged in a certain way, onto paper i somehow validate myself. i make those things that aren't tangible, tangible. (in a way, it is when i write that i feel the closest to God, but that's another post) somehow rage and joy become something i can digest and insurmountable problems becomes mountains i can somehow find a way to traverse over. so that's really why i write. i find i need to write in a way just like my body had normal bodily functions. it's necessary, crucial to not becoming bloated or sick to the stomach. yes i know that's a bit extreme and gross but that's reality for me.
i also have to admit that i'm fascinated by words, their meanings, where they came from. i'm always getting online and looking up words on www.m-w.com. there's no great intellectual reason. i never use the words in speech and most of the time forget the specific meanings within in minutes. but it's like infatuation. a look soon forgot, a flower that's fragrance will be lost. but for that moment a word becomes illuminated and sometimes when i'm reading, especially the bible, it opens up a new path. things click and i get it.
i love how words appear on the page, how punctuation or the lack of it changes a person's perception, how if you write a poem and place one word at the end of a line or on the next line it can change the meaning several degrees. it can intensify a feeling or alter it completely. i am intrigued by how two people can read the exact same thing on paper and it can evoke completely different emotions, angering one and amusing the other. that's the kind of writing i want to do. writing that evokes some emotion; writing that puts together two images, like writing and bodily functions, that you wouldn't expect, that makes you stop and see things maybe in ways you haven't.
now i have no clue if i accomplish that but that is what i long to do.
i also have to admit that i'm fascinated by words, their meanings, where they came from. i'm always getting online and looking up words on www.m-w.com. there's no great intellectual reason. i never use the words in speech and most of the time forget the specific meanings within in minutes. but it's like infatuation. a look soon forgot, a flower that's fragrance will be lost. but for that moment a word becomes illuminated and sometimes when i'm reading, especially the bible, it opens up a new path. things click and i get it.
i love how words appear on the page, how punctuation or the lack of it changes a person's perception, how if you write a poem and place one word at the end of a line or on the next line it can change the meaning several degrees. it can intensify a feeling or alter it completely. i am intrigued by how two people can read the exact same thing on paper and it can evoke completely different emotions, angering one and amusing the other. that's the kind of writing i want to do. writing that evokes some emotion; writing that puts together two images, like writing and bodily functions, that you wouldn't expect, that makes you stop and see things maybe in ways you haven't.
now i have no clue if i accomplish that but that is what i long to do.
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