Remeber in "Karate Kid" where Daniel-son gets ticked off at Mr. Miagi and demands to know why he's been painting and sanding and washing...and not learning karate. The moral, we all remember, is that sometimes you are learning even if you don't know it.
And that kind of learning sucks.
I am at the point on my current drawing that it is past ad tedium, ad nausium...it is to the point that I want to take my maul stick and repeatedly bash myself in the face. Now I am using hyperbole here, but I really wish I could move on to the fun stuff. Shading in a background is not fun. Showing your work in a gallery and making millions of dollars and gaining international notoriety while your exhibit tours museums the world over...that is fun.
But as Daniel learned, you can't defeat Cobra Kai unless you "sand the deck" and hop like a crane on a frigid beach. So I suppose I'm learning something now. I just hope I can appreciate the learning process and not get fed up.
Saturday, July 22, 2006
Monday, July 17, 2006
Prelude to Elysium
If you could go anywhere before you die, where would it be?
List it like this: 1-3=favorite places you've been and want to see again; A-C=Places you haven't been to yet, but want to see before you die. (If you want to be serious about the whole thing, list them in chronological order; I did not do so below.)
1. White Sands National Park, New Mexico
2. Indiana Dunes State Park, Lake Michigan, IN
3. The Badlands, South Dakota
4. Victoria Falls, Zimbabwe, Africa
A. Maine
B. Vermont
C. Ireland
D. Montana
My wife:
1. Chicago, IL
2. Denver, CO
A. Africa
B. The Mediteranian
List it like this: 1-3=favorite places you've been and want to see again; A-C=Places you haven't been to yet, but want to see before you die. (If you want to be serious about the whole thing, list them in chronological order; I did not do so below.)
1. White Sands National Park, New Mexico
2. Indiana Dunes State Park, Lake Michigan, IN
3. The Badlands, South Dakota
4. Victoria Falls, Zimbabwe, Africa
A. Maine
B. Vermont
C. Ireland
D. Montana
My wife:
1. Chicago, IL
2. Denver, CO
A. Africa
B. The Mediteranian
Friday, July 14, 2006
From Sea to Shining Sea
While falling asleep last night (and thrashing around, trying desperately to do so) I had a vision. A few moments later, and it would have been a dream...but that's neither here nor there.
A documentary: "From Sea to Shining Sea." I'll explain the idea in a second, but I think it's interesting to note that this is not my first itch to make a documentary. Right after I went into teaching, I joked with my wife that I wanted to change occupations again, this time to be a documentarian. My idea then was called something like "Threads." That can't be right; it seems like it was snappier. That's how it always starts--with a snappy title. Like blogging or teaching a Bible lesson: it's not really important or a good idea unless it has a snappy title, and no ideas come without the title first. Anyway, the idea was to chronicle the lives of apartment dwellers and observe the interconnectedness of man. "No man is an island" and all that jazz. We would throw away a piece of furniture (and of course, when I say throw away, I mean put it in front of the dumpster) and observe who came to claim it. In my experience, this is inevitable. Dumpster diving is asuch a reasonable pasttime among those living in apartments that furntiture is rarely discarded. Hence the idea for the documentary. The threads of the upholstery weave together like the threads of the various families lives. So once the furniture is aquired by a new family, we would ask the family's permission to film them and so on. An alternate take on the idea would be to track the lives of thrift store t-shirts. Maybe it will happen one day. Until then, if you happen upon this site and read this, don't rip off my idea.
"From Sea to Shining Sea" would not be a politically motivated movie as the allusion to the patriotic song might suggest. It would deal with the USA, but in a more intimate way as it is viewed through the eyes of one man (me). Borrowing from the film about the life of Che Guevarra, "The Motorcycle Diaries," I would buy a beat up, realiable old motorcycle--with a sidecar--and explore a land I've only read about. The goal would be to travel the perimeter of the United States. Now I haven't done any research, so I have no idea how many miles this is or how long it would take, but what an awesome road trip! I think I'd like to take my son(s) and add some personal interest for the viewer. It would also make it a more beautiful experience in my life. I'd get to share the exploration of our country (our world) with my boys. A coming of age story, maybe. I'd travel south on 377 to 281, and then run the majority of Texas on this same road, all the way down to close to Brownsville. As far as I can tell, there is no coastal route along the Gulf of Mexico, so I've hit a snag in production already, but I'll figure it out. Heading east from Brownsville, I would then outline all of of America, sticking to the coast, no matter how tiny and painstakingly slow the route might be. I'd see the Gulf, the Atlantic, weave across the northern boarders formed by the Great Lakes, hug the boarder of Canada, travel the Pacific, and then race by Mexico on my way home. I just took a break to check the distance and I found a plan laid out (starting in CA) to bike the perimeter. I found it on 43 Things, submitted by Apollo Lee. He states it would be 16,000 miles, and that, if he could bike 100 miles a day, it could be accomplished in 6 months.
This epic road trip would encompass one of my dream road trips: travelling Route 1/101, The Pacific Coastal Highway. I might try to also cover my second dream trip, Route 66, but since that cuts diagonally across the states, from Chicago to LA, it might not fit the vision for the film. Listen to me talk like this might actually happen! Still, I would love to do it.
All of this makes me think of a conversation I had with a fellow art teacher recently. She suggested that I might be a conceptual artist. When I asked her for her definition of the term, she said the purest definition would be an artist who comes up with ideas. At this point of my "career," yup, that's what I am.
A documentary: "From Sea to Shining Sea." I'll explain the idea in a second, but I think it's interesting to note that this is not my first itch to make a documentary. Right after I went into teaching, I joked with my wife that I wanted to change occupations again, this time to be a documentarian. My idea then was called something like "Threads." That can't be right; it seems like it was snappier. That's how it always starts--with a snappy title. Like blogging or teaching a Bible lesson: it's not really important or a good idea unless it has a snappy title, and no ideas come without the title first. Anyway, the idea was to chronicle the lives of apartment dwellers and observe the interconnectedness of man. "No man is an island" and all that jazz. We would throw away a piece of furniture (and of course, when I say throw away, I mean put it in front of the dumpster) and observe who came to claim it. In my experience, this is inevitable. Dumpster diving is asuch a reasonable pasttime among those living in apartments that furntiture is rarely discarded. Hence the idea for the documentary. The threads of the upholstery weave together like the threads of the various families lives. So once the furniture is aquired by a new family, we would ask the family's permission to film them and so on. An alternate take on the idea would be to track the lives of thrift store t-shirts. Maybe it will happen one day. Until then, if you happen upon this site and read this, don't rip off my idea.
"From Sea to Shining Sea" would not be a politically motivated movie as the allusion to the patriotic song might suggest. It would deal with the USA, but in a more intimate way as it is viewed through the eyes of one man (me). Borrowing from the film about the life of Che Guevarra, "The Motorcycle Diaries," I would buy a beat up, realiable old motorcycle--with a sidecar--and explore a land I've only read about. The goal would be to travel the perimeter of the United States. Now I haven't done any research, so I have no idea how many miles this is or how long it would take, but what an awesome road trip! I think I'd like to take my son(s) and add some personal interest for the viewer. It would also make it a more beautiful experience in my life. I'd get to share the exploration of our country (our world) with my boys. A coming of age story, maybe. I'd travel south on 377 to 281, and then run the majority of Texas on this same road, all the way down to close to Brownsville. As far as I can tell, there is no coastal route along the Gulf of Mexico, so I've hit a snag in production already, but I'll figure it out. Heading east from Brownsville, I would then outline all of of America, sticking to the coast, no matter how tiny and painstakingly slow the route might be. I'd see the Gulf, the Atlantic, weave across the northern boarders formed by the Great Lakes, hug the boarder of Canada, travel the Pacific, and then race by Mexico on my way home. I just took a break to check the distance and I found a plan laid out (starting in CA) to bike the perimeter. I found it on 43 Things, submitted by Apollo Lee. He states it would be 16,000 miles, and that, if he could bike 100 miles a day, it could be accomplished in 6 months.
This epic road trip would encompass one of my dream road trips: travelling Route 1/101, The Pacific Coastal Highway. I might try to also cover my second dream trip, Route 66, but since that cuts diagonally across the states, from Chicago to LA, it might not fit the vision for the film. Listen to me talk like this might actually happen! Still, I would love to do it.
All of this makes me think of a conversation I had with a fellow art teacher recently. She suggested that I might be a conceptual artist. When I asked her for her definition of the term, she said the purest definition would be an artist who comes up with ideas. At this point of my "career," yup, that's what I am.
Saturday, July 08, 2006
What are we to do AS the church?
I had previously posted about the shortcomings of the church as expressed by several friends I talked with over my recent vacation. The following is an additional line of questioning. I will intersperse my own thoughts, but I am really excited to hear the perspectives of others who have waged war as vocational ministers. Whether you have planted a church internationally, cared for a flock in rural America, or been part of a team at a Bible-belt megachurch, worked with youth, worked with seniors, worked part-time, worked way overtime, etc., etc. your input is highly valued.
F - E - A - R.
How do you know when to give up? How do you know when to move on, hoping that a change of scenery and a hopeful outlook will bring different results than the ones you find yourself in?
While it is true that I had to leave my role as a vocational minister due to personal issues, I also chose to leave a couple months before I stepped down. I had hopes of going to plant a church in Buffalo, NY and this opportunity seemed like it would be a great fit for me. I love to start things, but sometimes have trouble following through. I would have been part of a team, and at that time I was feeling alone (I was also becoming convicted that team ministry is the ONLY option). I would be working in an area of passion and interest (small group ministry and discipleship). All in all, my passions were changing (not that I didn't love youth ministry, but.....) and I felt like staying would not benefit either party. The congregation I was serving was resistant to change and comfortable with the status quo. I had made some dumb mistakes and burned some bridges. I didn't disagree with the senior pastor, but I didn't value him like I thought I should--he seemed comfortable to coast, rather than challenge people to impact the Kingdom. So it added up to a change for me. Little did I know the full extent of the change in store.
Also, I had a mentor recommend that I read "Red Light, Green Light: Discerning the Time for a Change in Ministry" by John R. Cionca. It was very valuable, so that certainly helped.
Of course the ambiguous answer is the seek God and let him direct you. There were also some signs indicating a change was due. But we know what God's will is really about, right? Following his direct commands places you in the center of his will, and there is wiggle room of the geographic location after that, correct?
I would say it's probably not a good idea to leave due to greener grass. I've fled to greener grass before, only to have the field burn up around me. A hopeful outlook CAN change things...but not just over there; it also works right where you are. Are you staying fresh? Are you resting? Are you supported and valued? Are you using your gifts? Are you focusing on your God-given vision? Are you rallying others around the vision? Are you constantly communicating that vision with the hope that things will happen, mountains will move and God can accomplish all things with the hope you place in him? Start asking the tough questions and don't be afraid to respond to the difficult answers. As I always say, follow where Jesus wants you to go, and if people freak out that you're going that way, you're doing things right. It's like trying to get fired. You do what you have to do and either they respond, or they burn you at the steak. That's not fun, but at least you'll have your answer.
Why does the church lack strength, vibrancy, and transformed souls? Is it a lack of leadership, is it the elders, or stifling people in the church? Maybe it is the lack of leaders. Maybe it is me?
It is a combination of all those factors. Not to keep harping on vision, but unless people know what is expected of them, they'll usually settle for less than the best (Prov. 29:18). Then there are those who are in a congregation to satisfy some personal need or placate some hidden guilt. They're there for themselves, not the Kingdom. It's the same way with a corporation. Check out the hysterical "The Office" TV series with Steve Carrell. The employees at Dunder-Mifflin hate their company, but they're there to get a paycheck. See if Dunder-Mifflin advances very far with such apathetic employees. It's part of group dynamics, I guess.
But let's be honest: poor leadership is a killer for any movement. And really, it's provavly not that you're a bad leader, but sometimes leaders don't take care of themselves. You minister out of WHO YOU ARE, not what you do. If you are not monitoring yourself and ensuring you're empowered by God, walking in his ways (including REST) and pursuing his calling in your life, everything will go to pot.
Forget about the "wet blankets." Don't blame the "subordinate" leaders. Make sure you are white-hot and passionate, then gather quality people around you. All it takes is one visionary...then most other people LIKE to follow.
Jay, you have started over a couple times with jobs and scenery. What is your advice? I am beginning to feel like I have done what I can here. Grass is beginning to look greener when i think of starting over with a fresh start. But a part of me wonders if it isn't just a fear to face the challenges here. Fear of facing my own shortcomings as a leader. Fear of having to have tough talks with difficult people with lots of influence who are holding the church back.
Face the tough stuff. Do the hard work. Even if that's just self-evaluation. "You have not been given a spirit of fear, but of love, power and a sound mind" (am I way off in my paraphrase?).
The thing that pushes it over the edge is a desire to feel my efforts make a difference. In a bigger city I felt that I was really a part of what God was doing in an exciting environment. Here I kind of feel that I'm off the beaten path treading water and fishing. I don't want to do this 30 years!!I care for these people though and have grown alot in these last 2 years. I feel like I would be leaving the church better off than when I came. I feel bad for desiring to minister where there is more people- like i am deserting them. Like I am married and lusting for another. Should I feel this way?
"It's not the world that I am changing. I do this so, this world will know that it will not change me." No, that's not scripture, that's the sage Garth Brooks. Another quote I've heard before is from some wise old saint, "When i was young i lived freely and had nothing to do, i wanted to change the whole world. But when i was an adult i had a little thing to do, i wanted to change just only my country. Later on i had a family and there were many things for which to be responsible, i wanted to change only my family. And now i ‘m sleeping in on the bed of death i realize that if only i change myself my family would also change.. When my family changed, other families might also change. When all the families change, my country would change too. When all the countries changed my world also change."
Okay...it's pithy and trite, but it's true. Also check out "The Making of a Leader" by Robert Clinton. It will perhaps give some perspective on what God is doing in you, even if not through you. Remember you are part of God's story. Your greatest achievement could be miniscule in worldly eyes, but shape the Kingdom in unimaginable ways.
No answers, but does it at least provide some food for thought?
F - E - A - R.
How do you know when to give up? How do you know when to move on, hoping that a change of scenery and a hopeful outlook will bring different results than the ones you find yourself in?
While it is true that I had to leave my role as a vocational minister due to personal issues, I also chose to leave a couple months before I stepped down. I had hopes of going to plant a church in Buffalo, NY and this opportunity seemed like it would be a great fit for me. I love to start things, but sometimes have trouble following through. I would have been part of a team, and at that time I was feeling alone (I was also becoming convicted that team ministry is the ONLY option). I would be working in an area of passion and interest (small group ministry and discipleship). All in all, my passions were changing (not that I didn't love youth ministry, but.....) and I felt like staying would not benefit either party. The congregation I was serving was resistant to change and comfortable with the status quo. I had made some dumb mistakes and burned some bridges. I didn't disagree with the senior pastor, but I didn't value him like I thought I should--he seemed comfortable to coast, rather than challenge people to impact the Kingdom. So it added up to a change for me. Little did I know the full extent of the change in store.
Also, I had a mentor recommend that I read "Red Light, Green Light: Discerning the Time for a Change in Ministry" by John R. Cionca. It was very valuable, so that certainly helped.
Of course the ambiguous answer is the seek God and let him direct you. There were also some signs indicating a change was due. But we know what God's will is really about, right? Following his direct commands places you in the center of his will, and there is wiggle room of the geographic location after that, correct?
I would say it's probably not a good idea to leave due to greener grass. I've fled to greener grass before, only to have the field burn up around me. A hopeful outlook CAN change things...but not just over there; it also works right where you are. Are you staying fresh? Are you resting? Are you supported and valued? Are you using your gifts? Are you focusing on your God-given vision? Are you rallying others around the vision? Are you constantly communicating that vision with the hope that things will happen, mountains will move and God can accomplish all things with the hope you place in him? Start asking the tough questions and don't be afraid to respond to the difficult answers. As I always say, follow where Jesus wants you to go, and if people freak out that you're going that way, you're doing things right. It's like trying to get fired. You do what you have to do and either they respond, or they burn you at the steak. That's not fun, but at least you'll have your answer.
Why does the church lack strength, vibrancy, and transformed souls? Is it a lack of leadership, is it the elders, or stifling people in the church? Maybe it is the lack of leaders. Maybe it is me?
It is a combination of all those factors. Not to keep harping on vision, but unless people know what is expected of them, they'll usually settle for less than the best (Prov. 29:18). Then there are those who are in a congregation to satisfy some personal need or placate some hidden guilt. They're there for themselves, not the Kingdom. It's the same way with a corporation. Check out the hysterical "The Office" TV series with Steve Carrell. The employees at Dunder-Mifflin hate their company, but they're there to get a paycheck. See if Dunder-Mifflin advances very far with such apathetic employees. It's part of group dynamics, I guess.
But let's be honest: poor leadership is a killer for any movement. And really, it's provavly not that you're a bad leader, but sometimes leaders don't take care of themselves. You minister out of WHO YOU ARE, not what you do. If you are not monitoring yourself and ensuring you're empowered by God, walking in his ways (including REST) and pursuing his calling in your life, everything will go to pot.
Forget about the "wet blankets." Don't blame the "subordinate" leaders. Make sure you are white-hot and passionate, then gather quality people around you. All it takes is one visionary...then most other people LIKE to follow.
Jay, you have started over a couple times with jobs and scenery. What is your advice? I am beginning to feel like I have done what I can here. Grass is beginning to look greener when i think of starting over with a fresh start. But a part of me wonders if it isn't just a fear to face the challenges here. Fear of facing my own shortcomings as a leader. Fear of having to have tough talks with difficult people with lots of influence who are holding the church back.
Face the tough stuff. Do the hard work. Even if that's just self-evaluation. "You have not been given a spirit of fear, but of love, power and a sound mind" (am I way off in my paraphrase?).
The thing that pushes it over the edge is a desire to feel my efforts make a difference. In a bigger city I felt that I was really a part of what God was doing in an exciting environment. Here I kind of feel that I'm off the beaten path treading water and fishing. I don't want to do this 30 years!!I care for these people though and have grown alot in these last 2 years. I feel like I would be leaving the church better off than when I came. I feel bad for desiring to minister where there is more people- like i am deserting them. Like I am married and lusting for another. Should I feel this way?
"It's not the world that I am changing. I do this so, this world will know that it will not change me." No, that's not scripture, that's the sage Garth Brooks. Another quote I've heard before is from some wise old saint, "When i was young i lived freely and had nothing to do, i wanted to change the whole world. But when i was an adult i had a little thing to do, i wanted to change just only my country. Later on i had a family and there were many things for which to be responsible, i wanted to change only my family. And now i ‘m sleeping in on the bed of death i realize that if only i change myself my family would also change.. When my family changed, other families might also change. When all the families change, my country would change too. When all the countries changed my world also change."
Okay...it's pithy and trite, but it's true. Also check out "The Making of a Leader" by Robert Clinton. It will perhaps give some perspective on what God is doing in you, even if not through you. Remember you are part of God's story. Your greatest achievement could be miniscule in worldly eyes, but shape the Kingdom in unimaginable ways.
No answers, but does it at least provide some food for thought?
Tuesday, July 04, 2006
Freedom (Part 2)
Infinite choice is not freedom. Imagine going into your closet and getting ready for work. How many of you have more than 3 pairs of pants? More than 5 shirts? Very simple multiplication leads us to see that you have to choose between 15 possible outfits. Need to wear a tie with one of those shirts? Let's say you have 10 ties. Now your possible outfits equal 150 (assuming they all match). Now you can see why you might spend 10 mintues in the morning trying to figure out what to wear; or even why a woman could look at 150 outfits and exclaim, "I have nothing to wear!" (nope...doesn't explain that one, but it was worth a try).
Well I must have close to 25 ties. I have over 70 t-shirts. And no, I'm not saying I wear them together, I'm just making a point (although, with 80's fashion on the rise, I might start doing just that). It is sometimes difficult to decide which option to choose. Similarly, if you have a spare moment and you want to: A) work out B) eat ice cream C) read a book D) watch TV E) do household chores, your vast array of choices doesn't make it easier to find something to do, but more difficult. In such a case, one usually chooses the path of least resistance. In the example above, you will likely eat ice cream WHILE watching TV (or maybe that's just me).
Now if unlimited choice leads to a dilemma, and the easiest way to solve the dilemma is to solve the dilemma the easiest way, then there is little hope that we could ever rise above settling for less. But the problem is that the easy way is usually the wrong way. If you want illustration of this point, see "Pilgrim's Progress" by John Bunyan. Or, as a Marine once told me, "Easy equals dead."
Enter Christ. He has told us that he came to give us abundant life. "If the Son sets you free, you are free indeed." The irony is that the above position is now reversed. Freedom means loving God. "The one who loves me is the one who obeys my commands." So freedom in Jesus means that we give up the freedom to choose a bunch of easy, destructive options. We are free to make only one choice, and that is "the hard but right way," as stated by Bunyan.
Other options will still surface. I find myself deluded into thinking that they are still viable choices for me. Like Christian in Bunyan's allegory, I wander into some pleasant looking field, only to be trapped by the Giant Despair. The key to freedom is to actively pursue the difficult road. Alfred Lord Tennyson said it like this: "I must lose myself in action, lest I wither in despair." I can be lazy and fall into a rut or ruin myself with some easy choice, or I can follow Jesus, even when it is tough...or perhaps precisely because it is tough. The Son has set me free, and I can now throw myself into acting on his behalf and for his kingdom.
Only one choice: Freedom.
Well I must have close to 25 ties. I have over 70 t-shirts. And no, I'm not saying I wear them together, I'm just making a point (although, with 80's fashion on the rise, I might start doing just that). It is sometimes difficult to decide which option to choose. Similarly, if you have a spare moment and you want to: A) work out B) eat ice cream C) read a book D) watch TV E) do household chores, your vast array of choices doesn't make it easier to find something to do, but more difficult. In such a case, one usually chooses the path of least resistance. In the example above, you will likely eat ice cream WHILE watching TV (or maybe that's just me).
Now if unlimited choice leads to a dilemma, and the easiest way to solve the dilemma is to solve the dilemma the easiest way, then there is little hope that we could ever rise above settling for less. But the problem is that the easy way is usually the wrong way. If you want illustration of this point, see "Pilgrim's Progress" by John Bunyan. Or, as a Marine once told me, "Easy equals dead."
Enter Christ. He has told us that he came to give us abundant life. "If the Son sets you free, you are free indeed." The irony is that the above position is now reversed. Freedom means loving God. "The one who loves me is the one who obeys my commands." So freedom in Jesus means that we give up the freedom to choose a bunch of easy, destructive options. We are free to make only one choice, and that is "the hard but right way," as stated by Bunyan.
Other options will still surface. I find myself deluded into thinking that they are still viable choices for me. Like Christian in Bunyan's allegory, I wander into some pleasant looking field, only to be trapped by the Giant Despair. The key to freedom is to actively pursue the difficult road. Alfred Lord Tennyson said it like this: "I must lose myself in action, lest I wither in despair." I can be lazy and fall into a rut or ruin myself with some easy choice, or I can follow Jesus, even when it is tough...or perhaps precisely because it is tough. The Son has set me free, and I can now throw myself into acting on his behalf and for his kingdom.
Only one choice: Freedom.
Freedom
Teaching is the best job ever. I told Heather the other day that I think it has quite possibly ruined me for all other jobs. Having been in a number of jobs, I haven't found anything to compare, and I can't imagine anything else that could offer what teaching offers. While it is a phenomenal priviledge to shape young lives, the schedule ain't too shabby either.
I have not been to my place of employment for the past month and a half. What glorious freedom! If being a parent enables one to live vicariously through their children and expereince childhood all over again (see my previous post), then teaching further compliments that position by allowing a person to enjoy those long, lazy days of summer. When was the last time you rode your bike for hours and hours and went swimming every day?
Such has been my summer. Up until Aydan burned his arm (a story I won't get into right now) the boys and I went swimming literally every day. And the beautiful thing was that this activity was not planned. 1:00? 6:00? Bored? Let's go swimming! Then yesterday we departed on our bikes at 9:00 am and raced through the misty rain, stopping at every park we passed on our nearby bike trail and leaving the trail to crash through a dirt-worn forest path. The only thing that brought us home, over two hours later, was the need for food and a restroom break.
I walked in from the studio twice last night to sneak into the boys' room and gaze on them soundly asleep. Free to be a child, free to laugh uproariously and have fun, free to lie in peace (Psalm 3:5)...and all this for the second time in my life.
I have not been to my place of employment for the past month and a half. What glorious freedom! If being a parent enables one to live vicariously through their children and expereince childhood all over again (see my previous post), then teaching further compliments that position by allowing a person to enjoy those long, lazy days of summer. When was the last time you rode your bike for hours and hours and went swimming every day?
Such has been my summer. Up until Aydan burned his arm (a story I won't get into right now) the boys and I went swimming literally every day. And the beautiful thing was that this activity was not planned. 1:00? 6:00? Bored? Let's go swimming! Then yesterday we departed on our bikes at 9:00 am and raced through the misty rain, stopping at every park we passed on our nearby bike trail and leaving the trail to crash through a dirt-worn forest path. The only thing that brought us home, over two hours later, was the need for food and a restroom break.
I walked in from the studio twice last night to sneak into the boys' room and gaze on them soundly asleep. Free to be a child, free to laugh uproariously and have fun, free to lie in peace (Psalm 3:5)...and all this for the second time in my life.
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
A blog is dying
I like to write, sure. I'm not even that bad at it. My priorities, however, place writing at a fairly low point on my "to do" list. Then, of course, the real trouble is sitting down and finding something whimsical and interesting to write about. Then there's the added pressure of feeling the need to sound witty or wise as I chronicle my thoughts. And then I get so discouraged when there are no responses to my thoughts (please, no pity responses on this post), as though they are not valid without a reply. Such pressure makes me reluctant to post, especially when I need to be in the studio or playing with the boys or doing 1 of a 1,000 other projects. Doesn't this all sound familiar? I'm sure I've talked about this before.
Well, since it's about time for another post...or time to let my dying blog finally die...I'll pull out something from about this time last year.
Nostalgia
"Aydan was getting ready for VBS today and I was fairly fascinated at how big he's getting. He got dressed entirely by himself, including picking out all his own clothes: a repetoire complete with camoflage pants, sweat bands, his VBS shirt, and a visor. He then packed his Bible in his backpack by himself and hopped in the car. When we got to church, I expected him to be hesitant, but he charged into the unknown with no reservations, and I was the one who started to cry.
He's so big. He's spreading his wings and flying. It's cheesy, but it's true. He is finding independence and flourishing in it. I'm proud, and I'm sad (it's going by so fast), and I'm drawn back to my own childhood. I think maybe nostalgia is the state of mind that naturally occurs when such emotions are mixed together in the perfect cocktail.
1985. Maybe it wasn't a big year for you; hey, it probably wasn't that big a year for me either, but it signifies an important period of time in my life. In my nostalgia I find myself looking for the GI Joe theme song on the internet and longing for the return of parachute pants." {As an aside, I find it humorous that, a year later, that the 80's are fully upon us. We are revisiting that era in all manner of fashion, right down to white deck shoes (which I WILL be getting a pair of) and plaid shorts}. "I focus on this year because it is the subject of a song by the band Roper. I realized, thru this song, that it’s because I long for those days of ease and carefree living. The days of exploration and breaking free from the parents. The days of running through a park in Jamestown, ND with striped tube socks up the to top of my calves.
“Those days seem so distant, feels like a million miles. Troubles were nonexistent--1985.”
Maybe you feel like me, and you realize you MUST remember some of those feelings, relive some of those days, just to feel alive. In another song, "End of the Innocence" by Don Henley, I achingly agree with the lyrics, “Remember when the days were long…Didn’t have a care in the world…Somewhere back there in the dust, that same small town in each of us. I NEED to remember this.” It's like a hook inside my brain that pulls me back again and again. I have an idea for a painting depicting this, and hopefully you'll get to see that someday. But for now, I think I'll just grab a glass of lemonade, sit out on the lawn next to the sprinkler and remember the sights, sounds and smells of summer. When the days were long and we had no cares in the world. And when, at last, I must return to the "grown-up" world, I will go pick up Aydan and relive all these beautiful memories vicariously through my son."
Well, since it's about time for another post...or time to let my dying blog finally die...I'll pull out something from about this time last year.
Nostalgia
"Aydan was getting ready for VBS today and I was fairly fascinated at how big he's getting. He got dressed entirely by himself, including picking out all his own clothes: a repetoire complete with camoflage pants, sweat bands, his VBS shirt, and a visor. He then packed his Bible in his backpack by himself and hopped in the car. When we got to church, I expected him to be hesitant, but he charged into the unknown with no reservations, and I was the one who started to cry.
He's so big. He's spreading his wings and flying. It's cheesy, but it's true. He is finding independence and flourishing in it. I'm proud, and I'm sad (it's going by so fast), and I'm drawn back to my own childhood. I think maybe nostalgia is the state of mind that naturally occurs when such emotions are mixed together in the perfect cocktail.
1985. Maybe it wasn't a big year for you; hey, it probably wasn't that big a year for me either, but it signifies an important period of time in my life. In my nostalgia I find myself looking for the GI Joe theme song on the internet and longing for the return of parachute pants." {As an aside, I find it humorous that, a year later, that the 80's are fully upon us. We are revisiting that era in all manner of fashion, right down to white deck shoes (which I WILL be getting a pair of) and plaid shorts}. "I focus on this year because it is the subject of a song by the band Roper. I realized, thru this song, that it’s because I long for those days of ease and carefree living. The days of exploration and breaking free from the parents. The days of running through a park in Jamestown, ND with striped tube socks up the to top of my calves.
“Those days seem so distant, feels like a million miles. Troubles were nonexistent--1985.”
Maybe you feel like me, and you realize you MUST remember some of those feelings, relive some of those days, just to feel alive. In another song, "End of the Innocence" by Don Henley, I achingly agree with the lyrics, “Remember when the days were long…Didn’t have a care in the world…Somewhere back there in the dust, that same small town in each of us. I NEED to remember this.” It's like a hook inside my brain that pulls me back again and again. I have an idea for a painting depicting this, and hopefully you'll get to see that someday. But for now, I think I'll just grab a glass of lemonade, sit out on the lawn next to the sprinkler and remember the sights, sounds and smells of summer. When the days were long and we had no cares in the world. And when, at last, I must return to the "grown-up" world, I will go pick up Aydan and relive all these beautiful memories vicariously through my son."
Tuesday, June 13, 2006
what are we to do with the church?
cheesy. corporate. embodying failures and resentment.
This is how the church is perceived by many very dear friends of mine. If it is so with them, those who are part of this body, what are we to do?
no mission statements. no doctrinal statement.
I saw a man proclaim that "Jesus" is his church's doctrinal statement, and have heard other beleivers like him cry out for the church to leave behind mission statements, demographics, target audiences, etc.
painful.
should one member of a family consistently feel pain after reaching out when that person is let down again and again by "brothers and sisters" and even caretakers of the flock?
"I don't get anything out of it."
Is church an "it"? Does the church exist for you to benefit from it? A poor economist can tell you that your return is at least somewhat based on your investment. Getting out? Are we puting in?
"The church should be about teaching the broken how to do laundry."
"Spirituality is communal living, growing a group garden, and helping people who try to put Coca Cola in their infant's baby bottle."
Putting in. Is church attendance where we should be fixing our gaze? Can you attend church? If we invest by the current standard, are we just giving 2 hours of our time and our warm rumps to heat the cushioned seat beneath us?
There is guilt and regret. There is a longing for true community, true spirituality. The paradox is challenging: commit to an industry not getting dirty searching for the tangibles of the Gospel, OR justify not going to church. Both are contrary to the heart of God, right? Hebrews says we shouldn't give up meeting together, but James says that true religion, faultless in the eyes of God, is that which cares for orphans and widows. If the church is not about loving the unlovable, helping the marginalized, what would one be committing to if they "went to church"? Singing songs? A message? Social hour? Let's not give up meeting together, but are we meeting together for the right things?
What is the church now? If you "go to church," what are you doing? What must the church be? What is the church becoming? What should it become? How do we bring unity to the body? How do we bring different camps together?
what are we to do?
This is how the church is perceived by many very dear friends of mine. If it is so with them, those who are part of this body, what are we to do?
no mission statements. no doctrinal statement.
I saw a man proclaim that "Jesus" is his church's doctrinal statement, and have heard other beleivers like him cry out for the church to leave behind mission statements, demographics, target audiences, etc.
painful.
should one member of a family consistently feel pain after reaching out when that person is let down again and again by "brothers and sisters" and even caretakers of the flock?
"I don't get anything out of it."
Is church an "it"? Does the church exist for you to benefit from it? A poor economist can tell you that your return is at least somewhat based on your investment. Getting out? Are we puting in?
"The church should be about teaching the broken how to do laundry."
"Spirituality is communal living, growing a group garden, and helping people who try to put Coca Cola in their infant's baby bottle."
Putting in. Is church attendance where we should be fixing our gaze? Can you attend church? If we invest by the current standard, are we just giving 2 hours of our time and our warm rumps to heat the cushioned seat beneath us?
There is guilt and regret. There is a longing for true community, true spirituality. The paradox is challenging: commit to an industry not getting dirty searching for the tangibles of the Gospel, OR justify not going to church. Both are contrary to the heart of God, right? Hebrews says we shouldn't give up meeting together, but James says that true religion, faultless in the eyes of God, is that which cares for orphans and widows. If the church is not about loving the unlovable, helping the marginalized, what would one be committing to if they "went to church"? Singing songs? A message? Social hour? Let's not give up meeting together, but are we meeting together for the right things?
What is the church now? If you "go to church," what are you doing? What must the church be? What is the church becoming? What should it become? How do we bring unity to the body? How do we bring different camps together?
what are we to do?
Saturday, June 10, 2006
Look at those "Eyes"
The Isuzu Trooper parked in the garage now shows 73,000 miles on the odometer. That means in 14 days, I traveled 2, 825 miles. On our vacation to Chicago and Ohio, I was reminded of a powerful truth: selfishness is hard to outrun. I had fun seeing old friends. I played basketball and in so doing, cut open a gash on my dad's eyebrow that required stitches and sprained my ankle so badly that it quite literally took on the shape and color of the legs belonging to the McDonald's character Grimmace. I relaxed. I took it easy. Look at those "I's". I, I, I, I.....
This is my blog, and I suppose the only person I'm qualified to speak authoritatively about is me. But my self-absorption was pointed out by my lovely wife as I looked at the above picture. I was struck by the humor of the pose, the irony of its commemoration (taken at an emergency room in Cook County Hospital after my friend Kyle had to get stitches in his eyebrow following a basketball injury), and particularly surprised by the appearance of my hair. "Did my hair really look like that?" I thought to myself. After thumbing through hundreds of pictures of Kyle looking hilarious, the only photo I asked to borrow and scan was this shot of me. Heather commented, "You really are fascinated by yourself, aren't you?" Ah...the painful truth.
I have mentioned before that sometimes I wish I could just escape myself; think about others and put them first more easily. I traveled from Texas to Ohio only to find my selfishness waiting for me there. It is true what they say: "Where ever you go, there you are."
Thursday, May 18, 2006
Mohawk Madness
Couldn't let the anniversary pass by without a new picture demonstrating the fact that I am truly and hopelessly uncool.
Miles to Go Before I Sleep
I have one hour in which to post before the day that marks the anniversary of my first blog post passes by. As I sat thinking of something profound to write about to commemorate this occasion, nothing struck me as so real or so true as the mention of this simple fact. I have one hour, and it's slipping away.
I love opportunities for remembering. This anniversary adds another contemplative date to the existing list of birthday, Christmas, New Year's, and Easter. Times to stop and think about times gone by; consider how life is being lived. Because, as I'm realizing, if you don't stop and evaluate, and in so doing, remind yourself what it is you want to live for, life slips by without much living going on.
I have one hour, and it's slipping away.
What has happened in this past year? I began and ended a program that placed me in the classroom and moved me toward the goal of being an art teacher. Furthermore, I began art lessons to put me on track to be working as a true artist. Good things. But in so doing I have missed the wedding of one of my closest friends, I have stretched myself thin, putting up more deadlines and heaping up more guilt for not meeting them.
Other things have also transpired. The painful things seem to stand out, and so it seems that the year has been marked by a progression in art and painful trials in just about everything else. Still, I guess pain is good if it teaches you something. Am I learning?
I have one hour, and it's slipping away.
Tonight I have to clean the studio, prepare for school tomorrow, write a reference letter, create a layout and captions for my website, put the finishing touches on a drawing, start a new drawing....and the list really could go on. What will get done? What is most important?
I have one hour, and it's slipping away.
When Robert Frost penned the unforgetable words, "But I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep" he was talking about death. I read another quote recently that reminded me that each day--each hour even--is a microcosm of our lives. How we live today IS our life. The commitments keep adding up; "the burdens keep piling up on my back." What will get done in this hour, this year, this life? What is important?
I have one hour, and it's slipping away.
I love opportunities for remembering. This anniversary adds another contemplative date to the existing list of birthday, Christmas, New Year's, and Easter. Times to stop and think about times gone by; consider how life is being lived. Because, as I'm realizing, if you don't stop and evaluate, and in so doing, remind yourself what it is you want to live for, life slips by without much living going on.
I have one hour, and it's slipping away.
What has happened in this past year? I began and ended a program that placed me in the classroom and moved me toward the goal of being an art teacher. Furthermore, I began art lessons to put me on track to be working as a true artist. Good things. But in so doing I have missed the wedding of one of my closest friends, I have stretched myself thin, putting up more deadlines and heaping up more guilt for not meeting them.
Other things have also transpired. The painful things seem to stand out, and so it seems that the year has been marked by a progression in art and painful trials in just about everything else. Still, I guess pain is good if it teaches you something. Am I learning?
I have one hour, and it's slipping away.
Tonight I have to clean the studio, prepare for school tomorrow, write a reference letter, create a layout and captions for my website, put the finishing touches on a drawing, start a new drawing....and the list really could go on. What will get done? What is most important?
I have one hour, and it's slipping away.
When Robert Frost penned the unforgetable words, "But I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep" he was talking about death. I read another quote recently that reminded me that each day--each hour even--is a microcosm of our lives. How we live today IS our life. The commitments keep adding up; "the burdens keep piling up on my back." What will get done in this hour, this year, this life? What is important?
I have one hour, and it's slipping away.
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
TGIF
Remember the good old days when television was great? I can recall Friday nights, glued to prime time television and the incredible "TGIF: Thank God it's Friday." Who could forget such classics as "Full House," "Perfect Strangers" and "Family Matters"? Give me an hour and a half of such excellent fare, along with pizza and popcorn, and life didn't seem as though it could get any better.
Now, as primetime television started to slip, there remained a "safe" alternative: the Family Channel. Maybe it's programming is not remembered as widely, but I have such fond memories of "Zorro," "Rin Tin Tin: K9 Cop," and the truly one-of-a-kind gem, "Maniac Mansion." Now, if the mention of such shows fills your heart with longing, then take a trip down memory lane by going to http://www.lounatale.com/index.html (after you enter, click on "Samples" and you'll find the "Maniac Mansion" theme). Also, check out http://www.mansionsite.com/mmpics.htm for some images to further jog your memory. Ah...TGIF!
Now, as primetime television started to slip, there remained a "safe" alternative: the Family Channel. Maybe it's programming is not remembered as widely, but I have such fond memories of "Zorro," "Rin Tin Tin: K9 Cop," and the truly one-of-a-kind gem, "Maniac Mansion." Now, if the mention of such shows fills your heart with longing, then take a trip down memory lane by going to http://www.lounatale.com/index.html (after you enter, click on "Samples" and you'll find the "Maniac Mansion" theme). Also, check out http://www.mansionsite.com/mmpics.htm for some images to further jog your memory. Ah...TGIF!
Monday, April 17, 2006
"What I Thought I Wanted" (part 2)
"You're gonna get caught."
Imagine this being whispered in the darkness as you are roused from sleep. What would your conclusion be? Would you assume a pair of burglars have entered your home and one is chiding the other for his clumsiness? Would you assume the voice to be that of God, speaking to your guilty conscience?
Or would you assume it was two little shaggy-headed boys?
Just such an experience happened to Heather this morning. Aydan and Brennan were sneaking into our bedroom closet to claim their Easter baskets. Why were their baskets in our room the day after Easter? Because they are notorious for stealing little bits of candy and sweets from the kitchen in the brief moments between when they wake up and when we do. So this morning, as they were clanging around in our closet, their guilt was certain. Caught red-handed.
Some may read the story and thinks it's cute. Some may see the ingenuity and cleverness of my 2 and 5 year olds and be amazed. I'm furious. No...I'm hurt.
Sure, my first reaction is to be angry. They were told not to try to sneak candy and they do so. There is some type of deceptive streak that runs through their body, some devious, cunning anomoly to their cherubic heartbeats. For further proof, consider the conversation I had at dinner tonight.
"Daddy, Mom said I can't have dessert tonight."
"Why is that, Aydan?"
"Because I took too many sticks out." (It is a favorite practice of the boys to take branches from our firewood box in the garage and play with them as swords and guns and all manner of things destructive).
"Oh, that's too ba......"
"An' cause we ate cookies!"
"What is that Brennan?"
"We are cookies!"
"Aydan? What's this about?"
(Silence)
It turns out that before going to the closet, they went to the fridge. They eagerly devoured two rows of break-and-bake cookie dough before ever asking Heather for breakfast. The truly infuriating part is that Aydan wasn't going to say anything (because he had gotten away with it--Heather assumed I took the dough for a sack-lunch dessert). The only reason they were caught is because Brennan naively assumed the lack of dessert was somehow connected to the dirty deed he knew he'd perpetrated.
But I digress. After the fury subsides and I can feel the flush of heat retract from my face, I feel an ache in my heart. Why sneak? Why steal? Why lie? Well, the lie is to cover up the wrong that has been done. But why not just ask?
Heather nailed it when she recognized a pattern from her own life emerging in Aydan: "He takes without asking because he's afraid we'll say no." He anticipates disappointment and so to avoid not getting what he wants, he takes matters into his own hands.
He doesn't trust me.
Imagine this being whispered in the darkness as you are roused from sleep. What would your conclusion be? Would you assume a pair of burglars have entered your home and one is chiding the other for his clumsiness? Would you assume the voice to be that of God, speaking to your guilty conscience?
Or would you assume it was two little shaggy-headed boys?
Just such an experience happened to Heather this morning. Aydan and Brennan were sneaking into our bedroom closet to claim their Easter baskets. Why were their baskets in our room the day after Easter? Because they are notorious for stealing little bits of candy and sweets from the kitchen in the brief moments between when they wake up and when we do. So this morning, as they were clanging around in our closet, their guilt was certain. Caught red-handed.
Some may read the story and thinks it's cute. Some may see the ingenuity and cleverness of my 2 and 5 year olds and be amazed. I'm furious. No...I'm hurt.
Sure, my first reaction is to be angry. They were told not to try to sneak candy and they do so. There is some type of deceptive streak that runs through their body, some devious, cunning anomoly to their cherubic heartbeats. For further proof, consider the conversation I had at dinner tonight.
"Daddy, Mom said I can't have dessert tonight."
"Why is that, Aydan?"
"Because I took too many sticks out." (It is a favorite practice of the boys to take branches from our firewood box in the garage and play with them as swords and guns and all manner of things destructive).
"Oh, that's too ba......"
"An' cause we ate cookies!"
"What is that Brennan?"
"We are cookies!"
"Aydan? What's this about?"
(Silence)
It turns out that before going to the closet, they went to the fridge. They eagerly devoured two rows of break-and-bake cookie dough before ever asking Heather for breakfast. The truly infuriating part is that Aydan wasn't going to say anything (because he had gotten away with it--Heather assumed I took the dough for a sack-lunch dessert). The only reason they were caught is because Brennan naively assumed the lack of dessert was somehow connected to the dirty deed he knew he'd perpetrated.
But I digress. After the fury subsides and I can feel the flush of heat retract from my face, I feel an ache in my heart. Why sneak? Why steal? Why lie? Well, the lie is to cover up the wrong that has been done. But why not just ask?
Heather nailed it when she recognized a pattern from her own life emerging in Aydan: "He takes without asking because he's afraid we'll say no." He anticipates disappointment and so to avoid not getting what he wants, he takes matters into his own hands.
He doesn't trust me.
What I Thought I Wanted
The following is told by Brennan Manning in his book, "Ruthless Trust."
When the brilliant ethicist John Kavanaugh went to work for three months at “the house of the dying” in Calcutta, he was seeking a clear answer as to how best to spend the rest of his life. On the first morning there he met Mother Teresa. She asked, “And what can I do for you?” Kavanaugh asked her to pray for him.
“What do you want me to pray for?” she asked. He voiced the request that he had borne thousands of miles from the United States: “Pray that I have clarity.”
She said firmly, “No, I will not do that.” When he asked her why, she said, “Clarity is the last thing you are clinging to and must let go of.” When Kavanaugh commented that she always seemed to have the clarity he longed for, she laughed and said, I have never had clarity; what I have always had is trust. So I will pray that you trust God.”
Craving clarity, we attempt to eliminate the risk of trusting God. Fear of the unknown path stretching ahead of us destroys childlike trust in the Father’s active goodness and unrestricted love.
When the brilliant ethicist John Kavanaugh went to work for three months at “the house of the dying” in Calcutta, he was seeking a clear answer as to how best to spend the rest of his life. On the first morning there he met Mother Teresa. She asked, “And what can I do for you?” Kavanaugh asked her to pray for him.
“What do you want me to pray for?” she asked. He voiced the request that he had borne thousands of miles from the United States: “Pray that I have clarity.”
She said firmly, “No, I will not do that.” When he asked her why, she said, “Clarity is the last thing you are clinging to and must let go of.” When Kavanaugh commented that she always seemed to have the clarity he longed for, she laughed and said, I have never had clarity; what I have always had is trust. So I will pray that you trust God.”
Craving clarity, we attempt to eliminate the risk of trusting God. Fear of the unknown path stretching ahead of us destroys childlike trust in the Father’s active goodness and unrestricted love.
Sunday, April 16, 2006
Exhausted and Victorious
Viewing the past month, or the past 40 days, more specifically, I can see an intense period of meditation on Christ. This time of lent has been extremely beneficial, resulting in the most joyful Easter I can recall in a long time.
But the benefit did not come easily.
I have spent time in various fasts. I have had my views of life, security, happiness, and love smashed and destroyed, only to be built anew. I have lost sleep. I have endured pain.
How weak this time is when compared with Jesus and his 40 days in the wilderness. How trivial it seems in light of his passion.
But that is the hope and the joy of this day. Though trouble may come, it is light and momentary, fleeting in the scope of God's love and his eternity. Though I may be at the end of my resources, I could never fully tax God's limitless supply of all he has given me for life and godliness. Though life seems hard at times, there is new life. Christ is risen! He is risen indeed!
So, I am tired.
But more, I am alive.
I am forgiven.
I am victorious.
But the benefit did not come easily.
I have spent time in various fasts. I have had my views of life, security, happiness, and love smashed and destroyed, only to be built anew. I have lost sleep. I have endured pain.
How weak this time is when compared with Jesus and his 40 days in the wilderness. How trivial it seems in light of his passion.
But that is the hope and the joy of this day. Though trouble may come, it is light and momentary, fleeting in the scope of God's love and his eternity. Though I may be at the end of my resources, I could never fully tax God's limitless supply of all he has given me for life and godliness. Though life seems hard at times, there is new life. Christ is risen! He is risen indeed!
So, I am tired.
But more, I am alive.
I am forgiven.
I am victorious.
Tuesday, April 11, 2006
Exhausted and Defeated
A letter I am leaving for my wife tonight. I plan to head to bed in about 5 mintues.
Heather,
You know how you can just sense that some evenings will go badly?
This was one of those evenings.
And really, I’m just being melodramatic and selfish, but I’m exhausted and I can’t recover and every little failure seems like a colossal defeat. But here’s what happened. You’ll need to pick up some of the pieces (literally) in the morning.
1) I attempted to unclog the toilet.
Our snake did not work. I then took the toilet off and tried to snake it that way. Did not work. I then went to Home Depot and rented a better snake for $13/4 hrs. Did not work. So now I am $20 odd dollars and 2 odd hours into the project and things are no better…and I’m violently pissed off. Remember how I hate plumbing? Uh….yeah…..
***YOUR PART: Since I rented the snake at 7:30 (at the Roanoke HD on 377) and they close at 9 pm, it is due back by 9 am this morning. Feel free to wake up early and take a crack at it yourself, but please have the snake back by 9:00. (I went down the drain all 25 feet of snake and found no blockage. Could it still be a block in the toilet? Seems unlikely, though I was going to have the boys fish their hands around in that drainage curve and see what they found. Anyway, I’m stumped and completely unable to do anything about it.)
2) Brennan would not go to sleep without talking.
Again. So I put him in time-out in the library. He proceeded to pull the lamp off the desk, breaking the bulb and the glass. (Accident or deliberate? Not sure. It was dark and I didn’t want to talk to him about it, since it would have probably led to a violent outburst on my part.) I was going to vacuum up the shards, but since the vacuum was not put together (and since I was unable to put the components together on Saturday) I could not. Would you mind doing that?
3) Dry wall is not hung.
I guess that’s what got me disappointed and frustrated in the beginning. I was going to go back out and cut it correctly to set up for tomorrow, but I was afraid the sheetrock would literally crumble in my hands and I’d tear down the rest of the shed with my bear hands….so I left it for later.
But all is not lost. I did the dishes. Yipee…major victory right there.
Looking at my list, it seems petty. I must be completely depleted. I’m having trouble functioning. Bible study is still not complete, and it’s 9:30. I need to finish it, but if I don’t go to bed I might self destruct. Anyway, kiss me softly when you come in and say a prayer for Jesus to deliver my soul.
Love
jay
Heather,
You know how you can just sense that some evenings will go badly?
This was one of those evenings.
And really, I’m just being melodramatic and selfish, but I’m exhausted and I can’t recover and every little failure seems like a colossal defeat. But here’s what happened. You’ll need to pick up some of the pieces (literally) in the morning.
1) I attempted to unclog the toilet.
Our snake did not work. I then took the toilet off and tried to snake it that way. Did not work. I then went to Home Depot and rented a better snake for $13/4 hrs. Did not work. So now I am $20 odd dollars and 2 odd hours into the project and things are no better…and I’m violently pissed off. Remember how I hate plumbing? Uh….yeah…..
***YOUR PART: Since I rented the snake at 7:30 (at the Roanoke HD on 377) and they close at 9 pm, it is due back by 9 am this morning. Feel free to wake up early and take a crack at it yourself, but please have the snake back by 9:00. (I went down the drain all 25 feet of snake and found no blockage. Could it still be a block in the toilet? Seems unlikely, though I was going to have the boys fish their hands around in that drainage curve and see what they found. Anyway, I’m stumped and completely unable to do anything about it.)
2) Brennan would not go to sleep without talking.
Again. So I put him in time-out in the library. He proceeded to pull the lamp off the desk, breaking the bulb and the glass. (Accident or deliberate? Not sure. It was dark and I didn’t want to talk to him about it, since it would have probably led to a violent outburst on my part.) I was going to vacuum up the shards, but since the vacuum was not put together (and since I was unable to put the components together on Saturday) I could not. Would you mind doing that?
3) Dry wall is not hung.
I guess that’s what got me disappointed and frustrated in the beginning. I was going to go back out and cut it correctly to set up for tomorrow, but I was afraid the sheetrock would literally crumble in my hands and I’d tear down the rest of the shed with my bear hands….so I left it for later.
But all is not lost. I did the dishes. Yipee…major victory right there.
Looking at my list, it seems petty. I must be completely depleted. I’m having trouble functioning. Bible study is still not complete, and it’s 9:30. I need to finish it, but if I don’t go to bed I might self destruct. Anyway, kiss me softly when you come in and say a prayer for Jesus to deliver my soul.
Love
jay
Monday, April 03, 2006
For Pete's Sake
My friend is dying.
The feelings I have are bizarre. For one, I have neither seen nor spoken to this friend in an unknown number of years; yet there is still sorrow and heartfelt prayers on his behalf. I am glad that he holds fiercely to Christ even as he clings to life; yet I cry out to God, wondering why one so young, one who follows him, would have to suffer and die. My only memory of my friend is shooting bottle rockets at the neighbor across the street on a hazy summer afternoon; my only picture of my friend is an image I just saw of him and his wife holding each other and smiling...cancer-bald head and all.
I have been reading Job, and so in the face of suffering and questions, only the words from the beginning of Job's trials come to mind. "The Lord gives and the Lord takes away. Blessed be the name of the Lord." Father, we can only trust you when we cannot understand you in this. Draw near to Pete's family and strengthen them with ruthless trust in you.
The feelings I have are bizarre. For one, I have neither seen nor spoken to this friend in an unknown number of years; yet there is still sorrow and heartfelt prayers on his behalf. I am glad that he holds fiercely to Christ even as he clings to life; yet I cry out to God, wondering why one so young, one who follows him, would have to suffer and die. My only memory of my friend is shooting bottle rockets at the neighbor across the street on a hazy summer afternoon; my only picture of my friend is an image I just saw of him and his wife holding each other and smiling...cancer-bald head and all.
I have been reading Job, and so in the face of suffering and questions, only the words from the beginning of Job's trials come to mind. "The Lord gives and the Lord takes away. Blessed be the name of the Lord." Father, we can only trust you when we cannot understand you in this. Draw near to Pete's family and strengthen them with ruthless trust in you.
Thursday, March 30, 2006
No Original Thoughts
My life is an endless stream of music and movie quotes, shaken up inside my brain and poured out in some maniacal cocktail.
Listening to Jimmy Buffet, I am beginning to identify with his sense of social rejection. It seems like he's senses being identified as a social outsider, a reject, a lazy beach bum. In reality, he is different from the masses. His laid back, fetterless lifestyle no doubt infuriates those who have chosen confinement over carefree existence. Moving toward a more bohemian lifestyle as an artist, especially after a long trek through multiple career “pit stops,” his lyrics resonate with some of the thoughts within my heart.
I was supposed to have been a Jesuit priest or a naval academy grad
That was the way that my parents perceived me
Those were the plans that they had
But I couldn’t fit the part too dumb or too smart
Ain’t it funny how we all turned out
I guess we are the people our parents warned us about
You know I coulda worked the rigs when the money was big
Or hopped a freighter south to Trinidad
And when they tried to draft me I earned a college degree
Buyin’ time ’til things were not so bad
But then I got a guitar found a job in a bar
Playin’ acid rock ’til I was numb
Tell me where are the flashbacks they all warned us would come
Hey hey, Gardner McKay
Take us on the Leaky Tiki with you
Clear skies bound for shanghai
Sailing cross the ocean blue
We are the people there isn’t any doubt
We are the people they still can’t figure out
We are the people who love to sing twist and shout--Shake it up baby!
We are the people our parents warned us about
("We Are the People Our Parent's Warned Us About")
I got a school boy heart, a novelist eye
Stout sailor's legs and a license to fly
I came with nomad feet and some wandering toes
That walk up my longboard and hang off the nose
I suppose the need to focus never arose
So something like a Swiss army knife, that's my life
Frankenstein had nothing on this body of mine
The villagers still flockin' to see, to see me
Breaking free, breaking free
Cause I got a school boy heart, a novelist eye
Stout sailor's legs and a license to fly
I got a bartender's ear and beachcomber's style
Piratical nerve and a Vaudevillian style
I suspect I died in some cosmic shipwreck
With all hands spread all over the deck...what the heck
Then some kind of obscene and unscrupulous mind
Began to pick up what he could find
Added ice, shook me twice, rolled the dice
Now I got a school boy heart, a novelist eye
A sailor's legs and a license to fly
I got a native tongue from way down south
It sits in the cheek of my gulf coastal mouth
("School Boy Heart")
Some of the details are different, but I love the line "so something like a Swiss army knife...that's my life." I feel like a jack of all trades, but a master of none. It is both a blessing and a curse.
Still, as I leave mainstream society behind, it's nice to know Jimmy will provide the soundtrack for my new life.
Listening to Jimmy Buffet, I am beginning to identify with his sense of social rejection. It seems like he's senses being identified as a social outsider, a reject, a lazy beach bum. In reality, he is different from the masses. His laid back, fetterless lifestyle no doubt infuriates those who have chosen confinement over carefree existence. Moving toward a more bohemian lifestyle as an artist, especially after a long trek through multiple career “pit stops,” his lyrics resonate with some of the thoughts within my heart.
I was supposed to have been a Jesuit priest or a naval academy grad
That was the way that my parents perceived me
Those were the plans that they had
But I couldn’t fit the part too dumb or too smart
Ain’t it funny how we all turned out
I guess we are the people our parents warned us about
You know I coulda worked the rigs when the money was big
Or hopped a freighter south to Trinidad
And when they tried to draft me I earned a college degree
Buyin’ time ’til things were not so bad
But then I got a guitar found a job in a bar
Playin’ acid rock ’til I was numb
Tell me where are the flashbacks they all warned us would come
Hey hey, Gardner McKay
Take us on the Leaky Tiki with you
Clear skies bound for shanghai
Sailing cross the ocean blue
We are the people there isn’t any doubt
We are the people they still can’t figure out
We are the people who love to sing twist and shout--Shake it up baby!
We are the people our parents warned us about
("We Are the People Our Parent's Warned Us About")
I got a school boy heart, a novelist eye
Stout sailor's legs and a license to fly
I came with nomad feet and some wandering toes
That walk up my longboard and hang off the nose
I suppose the need to focus never arose
So something like a Swiss army knife, that's my life
Frankenstein had nothing on this body of mine
The villagers still flockin' to see, to see me
Breaking free, breaking free
Cause I got a school boy heart, a novelist eye
Stout sailor's legs and a license to fly
I got a bartender's ear and beachcomber's style
Piratical nerve and a Vaudevillian style
I suspect I died in some cosmic shipwreck
With all hands spread all over the deck...what the heck
Then some kind of obscene and unscrupulous mind
Began to pick up what he could find
Added ice, shook me twice, rolled the dice
Now I got a school boy heart, a novelist eye
A sailor's legs and a license to fly
I got a native tongue from way down south
It sits in the cheek of my gulf coastal mouth
("School Boy Heart")
Some of the details are different, but I love the line "so something like a Swiss army knife...that's my life." I feel like a jack of all trades, but a master of none. It is both a blessing and a curse.
Still, as I leave mainstream society behind, it's nice to know Jimmy will provide the soundtrack for my new life.
Monday, March 27, 2006
Spring
"Four things on earth are small, yet they are extremely wise:
...a lizard can be caught with the hand, yet it is found in kings' palaces."
-Proverbs 30:28
The Mediterranean Gecko has returned to my doorway. I was in the studio tonight and, upon exiting, was greeted by him as he hung onto the glass of my screen door. Walking through the breezeway, I noticed another clinging to the rafters. These are the first I've seen since the fall, and surely the fact that there were two on one night must mean something. Spring has arrived and with the glowing green buds on the trees, the missing lizards return. As it says in Proverbs, they must be very wise, because I don't know where they went, and I don't know where they go when you chase them, but they make themselves an easy abode out of my home. The Proverb is proved even more true this early in the season, because it's very easy to catch these geckos, who are still rubbing the sleep out of their eyes. I read recently in "Walden" how Thoreau almost stepped on snakes in his woods in the early spring, as they were still trying to have the morning sun thaw out all the members of their bodies. So it is with my friends tonight. They are so sluggish that their usual lightning-fast quickness is still frozen inside them, and it's quite easy to reach out and touch them or catch them in your hands. I almost wanted to wake the boys so we could catch one together. But the spring is young. We'll have more nights for catching geckoes soon.
...a lizard can be caught with the hand, yet it is found in kings' palaces."
-Proverbs 30:28
The Mediterranean Gecko has returned to my doorway. I was in the studio tonight and, upon exiting, was greeted by him as he hung onto the glass of my screen door. Walking through the breezeway, I noticed another clinging to the rafters. These are the first I've seen since the fall, and surely the fact that there were two on one night must mean something. Spring has arrived and with the glowing green buds on the trees, the missing lizards return. As it says in Proverbs, they must be very wise, because I don't know where they went, and I don't know where they go when you chase them, but they make themselves an easy abode out of my home. The Proverb is proved even more true this early in the season, because it's very easy to catch these geckos, who are still rubbing the sleep out of their eyes. I read recently in "Walden" how Thoreau almost stepped on snakes in his woods in the early spring, as they were still trying to have the morning sun thaw out all the members of their bodies. So it is with my friends tonight. They are so sluggish that their usual lightning-fast quickness is still frozen inside them, and it's quite easy to reach out and touch them or catch them in your hands. I almost wanted to wake the boys so we could catch one together. But the spring is young. We'll have more nights for catching geckoes soon.
Sunday, March 19, 2006
Love Song to the Rain
Gee, l'm glad it's raining
There's always somethin' to be thankful for
l'm awfully glad it's raining
'Cause no one sees your teardrops when it pours
And no one knows the thunder is your heartbreak in disguise
They think the rainy night's what put that sad look in your eyes
Sure, l'm glad it's raining
The gentle rhythm soothes the pain inside
l'm glad the stars aren't shinin'
A wounded warrior needs a place to hide
l thought l had found someone l could count on till the end
What they wanted was a hero all l needed was a friend
Gee, l'm glad it's raining
l hope the mornin' sun won't come up soon
As long as it keeps raining
No one knows my heart broke right in two
l thought l had found someone l could count on till the end
What they wanted was a hero all l needed was a friend
Sure, l'm glad it's raining
l'm awfully glad it's raining "
There's always somethin' to be thankful for
l'm awfully glad it's raining
'Cause no one sees your teardrops when it pours
And no one knows the thunder is your heartbreak in disguise
They think the rainy night's what put that sad look in your eyes
Sure, l'm glad it's raining
The gentle rhythm soothes the pain inside
l'm glad the stars aren't shinin'
A wounded warrior needs a place to hide
l thought l had found someone l could count on till the end
What they wanted was a hero all l needed was a friend
Gee, l'm glad it's raining
l hope the mornin' sun won't come up soon
As long as it keeps raining
No one knows my heart broke right in two
l thought l had found someone l could count on till the end
What they wanted was a hero all l needed was a friend
Sure, l'm glad it's raining
l'm awfully glad it's raining "
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