Today is the day I understood that words can be remarkably empty.
Today's also the day that everyone's saying I love you. Today is the day for hugs, for a hand on the back, on the shoulder, the hand, the whatever you can make contact with.
Today is the day crying comes in spurts and is sometimes contagious. Today is the day I admit I had never thought I'd write an obituary. Today has been a bizarre day, breaking the land-speed record by lasting about 200 hours, just like yesterday.
Today I am hungry, un-hungry, over-stuffed and starving. Today I appreciate kind words. Today I understand that "I'm sorry" is a truly functional PHRASE. It means, "It happened, it sucks and I can't change it." That's it.
Today few things are "important."
.
.
.
.
.
.
Today I realize that I don't know who's ready to hear it. I don't know when they will be gone. I don't care if you hate me, if we lose our friendship that day or maybe speaking privaleges for a decade. You needed Jesus and I should have told you.
FORTUNATELY,
(thank Jesus for the FORTUNATELYs),
fortunately, my spirit of regret and self-loathing was renounced early Thursday morning. Because it plauged me I had to ask, "Is her blood on my head?" It was a REAL, real question, in terms of bluntness, in terms of how sincerely I wanted an answer. My friend said, "No," in an exhale. That means it was emphatic. NO very much, he meant. Continuing, "No, not at all," to be sure. "No..." Sure he'd keep going I interjected, perhaps to cover my perceived stupidness, "Well then, I've been very misinformed." Turning right down Norfolk St from Paisley....
"That's not your fault, that's not your decision." It sounds like the same things I've been told other times by half a dozen people after some other traumatic incident. "It wasn't your fault; you can't blame yourself. It was his decision to hurt you." Yep. I look forward to the day I accept that. I took these words because they were the best I could get right then. I trust this guy. I was actually kinda relieved, initially cuz I was expecting the answer to be complicated, even if it did lean toward the negative. "Isn't there responsibility or obligation..." I trail off, truncated halfway, "Yea there's responsibility but," - it was striaght-up -, "in the same way that, if you HAD shared with her, and she HAD become a Christian" (a light bulb flicks on in me) "then the credit wouldn't go to you." I overlapped the last few words, "I....approve of that notion," with the dryest tone you might imagine cuz that's how I exaggerate. I threw my hand over my heart - as I usually involuntarily do when I'm speaking from it - and utterted something else to attest to my full believing. "That is intensely liberating," perhaps, rounding a left onto Wellington from Gordon. Thank You, Jesus, for the truth.
Nonetheless, yesterday was the day I grasped how incredibly ______ the Gospel is. I can't even write this sentence now, without sounding trite. Since I have found that little slice of freedom, I don't very often think about how many others I should be tellings because you just don't know. It seems strange now. I am however, going to send that letter to my brother that I should have been done with by Thanksgiving Day. My family's important...and I'd hate to have copped out on them by keeping the story to myself.
Today is the day I realized that NOTHING brings you comfort like Christ in a time of mourning. (How much more this comfort when the mourned had Christ also!) But today, for these, for those who are not me, grief is suffocating. There is no outlet, there is no..... trite, again. What do I know of grief?
Friday, 30 November 2007
Wednesday, 28 November 2007
empire waist on a cotton dress
-slight strain down the side of my neck, right side; reachin up to a throb behind my ear
-bruisy, scratchy, cry-y knuckle on the left forefinger
-stinger on the left index finger
-general soreness on both triceps (like after holding your hands in the air for too many minutes)
-strain on the inside of the left forearm, like I lifted something too heavy and held it for too long
-dull pain in the lower back
...more might show up tomorrow
.....I am so pleased with EVERY LAST ONE of these because I got them sliding down an icy hill repeatedly.
we emerged from friends house (eight of us) after we'd seen someone sliding by outside the window. She had run and slip-slideyed her way down a hill - at about a 35-degree incline - and it was very attractive. we filed out and everyone but me went to the top of the hill and began their descents.
serious, we went up and down like tireless 10-year-old tobogganers, trying some spins, some backwardses, some group descents...it was awesome. I was jealous.
I had to switch shoes. I did and it was fun. Was it fun? it was SO VERY fun. I tried a bum slide but that didn't work. I guess I have too much traction on my derriere. Chuck Taylors, on the other hand, they grip NOTHING. soo gut.
then when my chauffeur got in his car and so did my fellow passenger, I asked him if I could slide into the door (while he was driving away or not). he said yes and then asked if he should move the car around. So he did. it was positioned perpendicular to the road. man, how many times did I try to slide into that car! a handful of others tried, too. there were many laughs and enough photographs to incriminate something.
there were a lot of head-long shots, some smashing into the door-ages...I tried to go feet-first once, too.... the goal was to "slide" into the car like and end up looking like you just stepped in properly. feet first seemed like a good approach, like if you could grab the top of the door frame, jump then sit. I feel like I've seen that work SO MANY TIMES on television but I MUST be thinking of something else.
it did not work.
I grabbed the frame, I got my feet in but I had already lost my thrust so that I couldn't turn myself around or even force myself enough in the car. I flopped backward, thinking I would just hang half off the seat into oblivion - or almost to the ground... but then some imaginary force (heathens call it "gravity") tugged me backward and I got crowned on the pavement. Then I fell a little further, if that's even possible.
I think my favorite run, though, was the one where I slid in (pretty well, I might add!) and my friend slid in about half a second after I did.
IT
SURPRIZED
THE
HECK
out of me.
I think what made me laugh most, though, was imagine what it must have looked like from the outside. SO WRONG, it was.
the new tactic was to use the left side of the frame (where the door was not hinged) to spin one's self around counterclockwise and BUM in first, feet in next. it worked quite decently well, and not just for me. there were a couple double-entries, some other weirdnesses.
I also enjoyed the moment when another girl suggested leaving the OPPOSITE door open so one could try a through movement and supposedly slide down the rest of the hill. if it could have worked, I would have loved it. She definitely lost ALL kinetic (?) energy half-way through. She belly-flopped on the seat and stayed there. It was kinda funny to watch. the car owner, who was standing holding the door, because he thought it was funny to close the door after a successful entry, scoffed unsmilingly. it was funny.
after this flop, though, he said, "Did she ACTUALLY think that would work?" He cranked the ridiculousness of the situation up a few notches with that comment. After a few slams into the voiture he also made the whole thing look ridiculous because his amusement was dwindling and he looked more and more like a parent or responsible older brother type. I wouldn't have wanted to SNAP his patience or make him upset, but as long as he was mildly unimpressed, that actually made this escapade more fun.
following one of the other double-impacts, the door was slammed after us but because I was itching to go again I didn't wait for the door to be re-opened and for the other person to get out. I opened the other door, tucked the top of the frame behind my heel and somersaulted out backwards. It was a pretty good dismount. hahah they laughed at me. it was good fun. I love backwards somersaults. breaking my neck terrifies me but... God's been gracious enough to wire me with muscles and flexibility and SOME common sense.
WOW.
HOW
MUCH
FUN.
unexpected, unplanned, unstable, almost unsafe.... I loved it. I just loved it. I am very glad I decided to change footwear so I could participate. it seems so unlike me. but once you get into it..whooo!
ahh. I feel so good about this.. I'm amazed. and the "injuries" are great souvenirs.
(they're not even real injuries...I got a bigger hurt when I dropped my laptop on my shin. DO NOT ASK how.)
every time I think of memory-triggering injuries, I remember some film in which a woman was talking with her girl friends about the wild sex she had in her kitchen the night before. This is the kind of up-on-the-counter stuff.... and she definitely got a few whams on the back of he head by the cupboard before they moved to more easily manoevred territory. I guess it was either a bed or a couch. she talked (I forget if it was to him, if he apologized for the bump or to her friends, just as part of her story) about how she liked the association she would have every time she felt that sore spot on the back of her skull. I think it's interesting. I wish the example wasn't so unseemly but there it is. That ...bitter-sweety feeling can be very wonderful.
Like..... the bitter makes the sweet sweeter, doesn't it? The Sweet wouldn't be what it was without its opposing counterpart. "Opposing" is not the word but....there you have it. I love them dichotomies. :)
-bruisy, scratchy, cry-y knuckle on the left forefinger
-stinger on the left index finger
-general soreness on both triceps (like after holding your hands in the air for too many minutes)
-strain on the inside of the left forearm, like I lifted something too heavy and held it for too long
-dull pain in the lower back
...more might show up tomorrow
.....I am so pleased with EVERY LAST ONE of these because I got them sliding down an icy hill repeatedly.
we emerged from friends house (eight of us) after we'd seen someone sliding by outside the window. She had run and slip-slideyed her way down a hill - at about a 35-degree incline - and it was very attractive. we filed out and everyone but me went to the top of the hill and began their descents.
serious, we went up and down like tireless 10-year-old tobogganers, trying some spins, some backwardses, some group descents...it was awesome. I was jealous.
I had to switch shoes. I did and it was fun. Was it fun? it was SO VERY fun. I tried a bum slide but that didn't work. I guess I have too much traction on my derriere. Chuck Taylors, on the other hand, they grip NOTHING. soo gut.
then when my chauffeur got in his car and so did my fellow passenger, I asked him if I could slide into the door (while he was driving away or not). he said yes and then asked if he should move the car around. So he did. it was positioned perpendicular to the road. man, how many times did I try to slide into that car! a handful of others tried, too. there were many laughs and enough photographs to incriminate something.
there were a lot of head-long shots, some smashing into the door-ages...I tried to go feet-first once, too.... the goal was to "slide" into the car like and end up looking like you just stepped in properly. feet first seemed like a good approach, like if you could grab the top of the door frame, jump then sit. I feel like I've seen that work SO MANY TIMES on television but I MUST be thinking of something else.
it did not work.
I grabbed the frame, I got my feet in but I had already lost my thrust so that I couldn't turn myself around or even force myself enough in the car. I flopped backward, thinking I would just hang half off the seat into oblivion - or almost to the ground... but then some imaginary force (heathens call it "gravity") tugged me backward and I got crowned on the pavement. Then I fell a little further, if that's even possible.
I think my favorite run, though, was the one where I slid in (pretty well, I might add!) and my friend slid in about half a second after I did.
IT
SURPRIZED
THE
HECK
out of me.
I think what made me laugh most, though, was imagine what it must have looked like from the outside. SO WRONG, it was.
the new tactic was to use the left side of the frame (where the door was not hinged) to spin one's self around counterclockwise and BUM in first, feet in next. it worked quite decently well, and not just for me. there were a couple double-entries, some other weirdnesses.
I also enjoyed the moment when another girl suggested leaving the OPPOSITE door open so one could try a through movement and supposedly slide down the rest of the hill. if it could have worked, I would have loved it. She definitely lost ALL kinetic (?) energy half-way through. She belly-flopped on the seat and stayed there. It was kinda funny to watch. the car owner, who was standing holding the door, because he thought it was funny to close the door after a successful entry, scoffed unsmilingly. it was funny.
after this flop, though, he said, "Did she ACTUALLY think that would work?" He cranked the ridiculousness of the situation up a few notches with that comment. After a few slams into the voiture he also made the whole thing look ridiculous because his amusement was dwindling and he looked more and more like a parent or responsible older brother type. I wouldn't have wanted to SNAP his patience or make him upset, but as long as he was mildly unimpressed, that actually made this escapade more fun.
following one of the other double-impacts, the door was slammed after us but because I was itching to go again I didn't wait for the door to be re-opened and for the other person to get out. I opened the other door, tucked the top of the frame behind my heel and somersaulted out backwards. It was a pretty good dismount. hahah they laughed at me. it was good fun. I love backwards somersaults. breaking my neck terrifies me but... God's been gracious enough to wire me with muscles and flexibility and SOME common sense.
WOW.
HOW
MUCH
FUN.
unexpected, unplanned, unstable, almost unsafe.... I loved it. I just loved it. I am very glad I decided to change footwear so I could participate. it seems so unlike me. but once you get into it..whooo!
ahh. I feel so good about this.. I'm amazed. and the "injuries" are great souvenirs.
(they're not even real injuries...I got a bigger hurt when I dropped my laptop on my shin. DO NOT ASK how.)
every time I think of memory-triggering injuries, I remember some film in which a woman was talking with her girl friends about the wild sex she had in her kitchen the night before. This is the kind of up-on-the-counter stuff.... and she definitely got a few whams on the back of he head by the cupboard before they moved to more easily manoevred territory. I guess it was either a bed or a couch. she talked (I forget if it was to him, if he apologized for the bump or to her friends, just as part of her story) about how she liked the association she would have every time she felt that sore spot on the back of her skull. I think it's interesting. I wish the example wasn't so unseemly but there it is. That ...bitter-sweety feeling can be very wonderful.
Like..... the bitter makes the sweet sweeter, doesn't it? The Sweet wouldn't be what it was without its opposing counterpart. "Opposing" is not the word but....there you have it. I love them dichotomies. :)
Tuesday, 27 November 2007
typographical errors from church bulletins or announcements
(cribbed from an email)
At the evening service tonight, the sermon topic will be "What Is HELL"? Come early and listen to our choir.
Please place your donation in the envelope along with the deceased person you want remembered.
Low Self Esteem Support Group will meet Thursday at 7 PM. Please use the back door.
Weight Watchers will meet at 7 PM at the First Presbyterian Church. Please use large double door at the side entrance.
The Associate Minister unveiled the church's new tithing campaign slogan last Sunday: "I Upped My Pledge - Up Yours."
The Men's Fellowship will gather at 7pm for a baked bean supper; Music will follow.
At the evening service tonight, the sermon topic will be "What Is HELL"? Come early and listen to our choir.
Please place your donation in the envelope along with the deceased person you want remembered.
Low Self Esteem Support Group will meet Thursday at 7 PM. Please use the back door.
Weight Watchers will meet at 7 PM at the First Presbyterian Church. Please use large double door at the side entrance.
The Associate Minister unveiled the church's new tithing campaign slogan last Sunday: "I Upped My Pledge - Up Yours."
The Men's Fellowship will gather at 7pm for a baked bean supper; Music will follow.
Monday, 26 November 2007
deux aut choses:
#1 Today was my first escapade in the Science Complex.
It's glorious. It really reminds me of York U (from the early/mid-90s) or even the U of Edinburgh. I walk in there and I think, Wow, I'm in a research facility. Or, I'm in a university. I'm in an institution of higher learning. I say I'm "in" but I don't mean that I'm enrolled here, I'm a student here but rather that I'm inside the building. Part of what titillates me so much about being in places like that is knowing that I don't belong. It's really cool. I'm filled with respect and flooded by awe. It's kinda like the Toronto Reference Libby at Yonge and Bloor. How much do I love that place?? Like, love love love? Quite a bit, actually.
I didn't stay in the Complex for even 25 minutes.. but I imagine I'll go back soon; later this week, next month and certainly next semester. It's weird for me to have a building on MY campus be foreign to me.
#2 A dutchie is called a "dutchie" because it's a Western appropriation of a Dutch sweet (pastry?) ollieboullin. I seriously need to look up tha spelling. They're deep-fried doughy goodnesses with raisins and cinnamon (do they sometimes have slices of apple in them?) and WOW I would love to have some authentic ones right now. I tried the actual dutch kind at a friend's house but she would never purport to be DUTCH herself. She has a Dutch maternal side and enough influence, etc. etc. but I want to go to Holland and experience the greatness. If there's one thing I've learned about Western appropriations, it's that MUCH gets lost in translation.
DUTCH-ie. I can't get over it. I can't get over the fact that I did not know this sooner. Ah well. I'll live.
It's glorious. It really reminds me of York U (from the early/mid-90s) or even the U of Edinburgh. I walk in there and I think, Wow, I'm in a research facility. Or, I'm in a university. I'm in an institution of higher learning. I say I'm "in" but I don't mean that I'm enrolled here, I'm a student here but rather that I'm inside the building. Part of what titillates me so much about being in places like that is knowing that I don't belong. It's really cool. I'm filled with respect and flooded by awe. It's kinda like the Toronto Reference Libby at Yonge and Bloor. How much do I love that place?? Like, love love love? Quite a bit, actually.
I didn't stay in the Complex for even 25 minutes.. but I imagine I'll go back soon; later this week, next month and certainly next semester. It's weird for me to have a building on MY campus be foreign to me.
#2 A dutchie is called a "dutchie" because it's a Western appropriation of a Dutch sweet (pastry?) ollieboullin. I seriously need to look up tha spelling. They're deep-fried doughy goodnesses with raisins and cinnamon (do they sometimes have slices of apple in them?) and WOW I would love to have some authentic ones right now. I tried the actual dutch kind at a friend's house but she would never purport to be DUTCH herself. She has a Dutch maternal side and enough influence, etc. etc. but I want to go to Holland and experience the greatness. If there's one thing I've learned about Western appropriations, it's that MUCH gets lost in translation.
DUTCH-ie. I can't get over it. I can't get over the fact that I did not know this sooner. Ah well. I'll live.
bringin out the underbrush
I love to wait for the last few kernels of corn to pop after the microwave stopes before I take the bag out. That definitely reminds me of the Friday night BritCom-a-thons of my childhood. And then I sometimes think of "Eastenders" because my mom used to change the words to their theme song to something about me. She loved to eat the half-popped kernels that the rest of us didn't care fore. I can still see the 10-inch steel bowl and hear the stripped kernels drop back in. So long ago.
What would I have to do in my life in order to be referred to as a "God-fearing woman"?
If the disciples got separated from Jesus in like a library or shopping mall or bus station, they probably went to look for Him at the Lost & Found. (That's where I'd look... And by the time I caught up with Him, I'd expect it to be a Found & Found. That's right: He's a redeemer. Hahah He must NEVER pay full price for His goods because of all the coupons He submits..aahhh aha.)
[31/10/07:) 20h31]
What would I have to do in my life in order to be referred to as a "God-fearing woman"?
If the disciples got separated from Jesus in like a library or shopping mall or bus station, they probably went to look for Him at the Lost & Found. (That's where I'd look... And by the time I caught up with Him, I'd expect it to be a Found & Found. That's right: He's a redeemer. Hahah He must NEVER pay full price for His goods because of all the coupons He submits..aahhh aha.)
[31/10/07:) 20h31]
Sunday, 25 November 2007
a full year's wage to save the life of one.
music euphoria, how I've missed you! Friday -
22h21 begin the sleep process
Saturday -
05h55 begin the day
06h34 leave house
06h51 punch in
10h48 punch out
11h03 begin playing background (seasonal music) at Bazaar
14h02 finish playing
14h[30] start planning meeting
15h[45] finish meeting
16h55 talk with friend
17h35 finish talking
17h40 DINNER!
19h15 sleep by accident
21h03 wake up on purpose
21h37 Concert with Scott Normandy (21h30 & 23h30) and J-Dub and the Door-to-Doors (22h30 & 00h30)
Sunday -
01h[40] leave venue
02h48 start sleeping
05h00 wake up
06h05 wake up
06h20 wake up
07h25 wake up
09h45 wake up
10h15 leave for chizzurch
Honorable mentions:
07h30 (Saturday) sing in the marvellously echo-ous bathroom while sweeping its floor
10h20 (Saturday) wonderful, wonderful, wonderful Stella Artois
00h15 (Sunday) ask J-Dub what's in the second set because I should have been in bed before the FIRST set started
"You won't wanna miss it," he says once or twice while describing the list and different voicings they'll be using and I can only really half believe him because he's biased.
12h30-01h14 (Satur/Sunday) wow wow wow wow wow wow wow wow wow wow (what?) J-Dub did not tell a lie. The unit was so cohesive, so passionate and so talented/proficient that I was full-on mesmerized for the full 40-ish minutes. There were moments that my hand started raising itself because the uber-high quality of the music was making me want to explicitly worship Jesus.
01h17-01h28 (Sunday) acoustic... is after my own heart. fast and accurate hands on a guitar neck...what could be finer?
01h50 "A good sleep is only good for a day or two," runs through my mind as I pass the bus terminal. "But good music will stick with me for a long time," is helpful in assauging the inner termoil.
10h28 (Sunday) immersion in contentment and relaxation (what?) What? I feel happy in church because I'm in church? What? I am free from guilt in.... maybe NOT going to work this morning? Well... I suppose that goes to show that praying to God for forgiveness & grace then promising to drop the subject and walk away ACTUALLY works. Talk about liberation.
10h[40] (Sunday) making someone smile for something ridiculous
10h30-11h00 (Sunday) finding real worship. finding that I sing the songs truthfully. (how long I have been a liar for standing before men - and more important, before God - and pretending to praise Him but actually having no heart and no mind to do so.) what I liar I have been! how consistent He is... the same as when I left. I worshipped and He is good.
12h10 (Sunday) plain old-fashioned doughnuts are... much like vanilla among ice cream flavors but I don't care. it is poised to take its place as "favorite" any day now.
Friday, 23 November 2007
deux choses:
a glimpse and a chink in the armour (which, incidentally, can be read like Goldmember's "shmoke and a pancake")
This is actually from last Sunday but I was re-inspired to post it for what I think are obvious reasons.
I cleaned four urinals today. I have decided that this kind of work is good for me right now (i.e. it's the job I should have) because I need something un-glamourous. I need to see His process of humbling and building back up gradually. That being said, I move on to the less mature portion of the evening.
PART A: Glimpse
In this men's washroom I definitely started to understand why people say men are just typically dirtier than women; I mean REALLY, guys. Yall are supposed to be good with directions... what's with the splatter? (What is that smell?) Man, the difference between cleaning the women's and the men's is like night and day. I just really don't get it. I feel I've stumbled upon a creepy weird underworld that has always existed -- but separately from my own existence.
My glimpse..I think this is what (many) dudes feel like when they're forced to deal with stuff in conversation like menstruation and all the hardware and frills that come with it. I know that for brothers or strictly friendses, traversing the bra section in a department store can be pretty unpleasant, too. I dunno..this is largely speculative. All I know is that I've seen males squirm over things that are totally COMMONPLACE to me. Urinal cakes are gross, urinals are gross and mysteriously CLOGGED (?), and the floor under the urinals is gross.
I guess I have learned that I should be more sensitive with my words in mixed company. Also, I approve of the sinks being about three or four inches higher in the men's than in the women's.
Oh and Glimpse, Section 1.2, I'm getting an inkling about the reality Jim Carroll was trying to reconstruct in Basketball Diaries. He wrote about public bathrooms in bus/subway stations and how they offer satisfaction for any major vice you're struggling with. He wrote about the drugs, of course, about the oral sex for money, about those who watched, about those who watched and did other things at the same time... It seemed pretty vivid. I mean, if THIS bathroom, one that had only seen moderate wedding party traffic since its last thorough cleaning was enough to make me reconsider inhaling on a regular basis then how absolutely squallid must the NYC public transit restrooms be? Goodness... I mean, I understand that urine is probably the least of your worries in those places but still. I call it a glimpse.
PART B: chink in the armour
This incident has forced me to straighten up from my D-FENSE! low-to-the-ground stance and with my hand off the grass and centre of gravity utterly exposed, I take just an imperceptible step backward.
I really can't staunchly defend men against women's blankety stereotypes. I can't stand as the Upperhand for the underdogs. Oh, boo. I really love that position but now...there's one little leak in my air tank, a dent in a i-beam meaning nothing is stable. Ai... It's so much easier to stand up for people when you don't know them. The benefit of the doubt can be your closest friend in these circumstances.
I'll do my best though. I don't have enough evidence to say anything, really. ONE bathroom can't be expected to represent the many. That's called roomism.
I must say that the woof smell that affronts my senses when I walk in (it happened again this week but it was worse) really just takes any mystery and romance out of the opposite sex for me. Ugh. I resolve to never watch a man do his bathroom business and I think I'll be OK.
This is actually from last Sunday but I was re-inspired to post it for what I think are obvious reasons.
I cleaned four urinals today. I have decided that this kind of work is good for me right now (i.e. it's the job I should have) because I need something un-glamourous. I need to see His process of humbling and building back up gradually. That being said, I move on to the less mature portion of the evening.
PART A: Glimpse
In this men's washroom I definitely started to understand why people say men are just typically dirtier than women; I mean REALLY, guys. Yall are supposed to be good with directions... what's with the splatter? (What is that smell?) Man, the difference between cleaning the women's and the men's is like night and day. I just really don't get it. I feel I've stumbled upon a creepy weird underworld that has always existed -- but separately from my own existence.
My glimpse..I think this is what (many) dudes feel like when they're forced to deal with stuff in conversation like menstruation and all the hardware and frills that come with it. I know that for brothers or strictly friendses, traversing the bra section in a department store can be pretty unpleasant, too. I dunno..this is largely speculative. All I know is that I've seen males squirm over things that are totally COMMONPLACE to me. Urinal cakes are gross, urinals are gross and mysteriously CLOGGED (?), and the floor under the urinals is gross.
I guess I have learned that I should be more sensitive with my words in mixed company. Also, I approve of the sinks being about three or four inches higher in the men's than in the women's.
Oh and Glimpse, Section 1.2, I'm getting an inkling about the reality Jim Carroll was trying to reconstruct in Basketball Diaries. He wrote about public bathrooms in bus/subway stations and how they offer satisfaction for any major vice you're struggling with. He wrote about the drugs, of course, about the oral sex for money, about those who watched, about those who watched and did other things at the same time... It seemed pretty vivid. I mean, if THIS bathroom, one that had only seen moderate wedding party traffic since its last thorough cleaning was enough to make me reconsider inhaling on a regular basis then how absolutely squallid must the NYC public transit restrooms be? Goodness... I mean, I understand that urine is probably the least of your worries in those places but still. I call it a glimpse.
PART B: chink in the armour
This incident has forced me to straighten up from my D-FENSE! low-to-the-ground stance and with my hand off the grass and centre of gravity utterly exposed, I take just an imperceptible step backward.
I really can't staunchly defend men against women's blankety stereotypes. I can't stand as the Upperhand for the underdogs. Oh, boo. I really love that position but now...there's one little leak in my air tank, a dent in a i-beam meaning nothing is stable. Ai... It's so much easier to stand up for people when you don't know them. The benefit of the doubt can be your closest friend in these circumstances.
I'll do my best though. I don't have enough evidence to say anything, really. ONE bathroom can't be expected to represent the many. That's called roomism.
I must say that the woof smell that affronts my senses when I walk in (it happened again this week but it was worse) really just takes any mystery and romance out of the opposite sex for me. Ugh. I resolve to never watch a man do his bathroom business and I think I'll be OK.
Wednesday, 21 November 2007
Are you KIDDING me??!
I forgot that he has blue eyes, too. Wow wow wow wow wow. He's gotta be the closest thing to the love of my life. I haven't seen him in 6 weeks to the day (it was election day, so I remember it precisely) and before that it must have been 6 months so I guess I forgot that the beautiful blues were yet another perk to his magnificence.
What is it like when someone who is remarkably good-looking (and tall!), refeshingly smart, well-spoken, interested and generally pleasant turns slowly as a smile grows and the eyes drawwwwl across, with a facial expression and a tone FLUSH with respect? What is that like? I don't think I've ever liked hearing, "Hi Jess!" so much as I did today.
What is it like when someone who is remarkably good-looking (and tall!), refeshingly smart, well-spoken, interested and generally pleasant turns slowly as a smile grows and the eyes drawwwwl across, with a facial expression and a tone FLUSH with respect? What is that like? I don't think I've ever liked hearing, "Hi Jess!" so much as I did today.
Tuesday, 20 November 2007
salmon meat is GORgeous.
If this is what carnivores drool about when you think of steak or a chicken breast then I totally get it. Describing something as being cooked so that "the meat just slides off the bone" suddenly doesn't sound so disgusting to me. I mean, I don't ever wanna eat ribs or a drumstick or anything else that requires me to HOLD it by the bone but still. I'm not enjoying this because I like to think I'm stabbing and chewing something that had flesh...but THIS flesh sho' nuff is tasty. I mean, the color... Wonderful.
Friday, 16 November 2007
something.
Things I am looking forward to:
-WINTER!
-the CSI: Miami episode that's going to air in 40 minutes
-taking down the next person who tells me that music theory and mathematics go hand in hand (or something to that effect). they're gonna get it, I promise.
-finding out what happens in the rest of Season 3
-getting my hands on the item I TUGed from the U of Guelph's Library Annex and turning it into something beautiful
-READING THE COOL BOOKS I FOUND AT THE LIBRARY TODAY! I love that borrowing books is free (if you return them on time) and I love that TWO of the works that I encountered references to yesterday were shelved side-by-side in PS3566. I was looking for just one and the second had slipped out of my mind (it landed on the For Some Time in the Future list) but there it was! WoooOOOooot.
-being cool.
-being holy and acceptable in His sight.
-getting a one-year internship with a company I respect and could learn much from
-the next good meal I eat.
Things I am NOT looking forward to:
-tomorrow morning (because it is shrouded with unknowns)
-discovering how much I may have screwed up my sleep "pattern" by bedding at 2, waking at 9.15, napping from 3 to 6pm, bedding at 12 noon, waking at 3.50 and find myself in the present. somtimes I just don't know. we shall see whatst tomorrow bringles.
-paying someone (I don't know whom exactly the money will go to) for the locker key that I lost. BOO. people tend to overcharge for these things because they can. I imagine I'll pay about 60 dollars but, considering I lost the key, there's no way I can complain about or get out of this so I actually don't have much bile about the situation. ... It might be worse if the locker has already been drilled/broken into and the lock replaced, my belongings lost. (I don't even remember what was in there, aside from a shirt I would have liked to keep and an empty binder in good shape.) Meh. Live and learn.
-finding winter boots. BOO! I hate them. I hate shopping for footwear...unless they're Chuck Taylors. BOoya.
-WINTER!
-the CSI: Miami episode that's going to air in 40 minutes
-taking down the next person who tells me that music theory and mathematics go hand in hand (or something to that effect). they're gonna get it, I promise.
-finding out what happens in the rest of Season 3
-getting my hands on the item I TUGed from the U of Guelph's Library Annex and turning it into something beautiful
-READING THE COOL BOOKS I FOUND AT THE LIBRARY TODAY! I love that borrowing books is free (if you return them on time) and I love that TWO of the works that I encountered references to yesterday were shelved side-by-side in PS3566. I was looking for just one and the second had slipped out of my mind (it landed on the For Some Time in the Future list) but there it was! WoooOOOooot.
-being cool.
-being holy and acceptable in His sight.
-getting a one-year internship with a company I respect and could learn much from
-the next good meal I eat.
Things I am NOT looking forward to:
-tomorrow morning (because it is shrouded with unknowns)
-discovering how much I may have screwed up my sleep "pattern" by bedding at 2, waking at 9.15, napping from 3 to 6pm, bedding at 12 noon, waking at 3.50 and find myself in the present. somtimes I just don't know. we shall see whatst tomorrow bringles.
-paying someone (I don't know whom exactly the money will go to) for the locker key that I lost. BOO. people tend to overcharge for these things because they can. I imagine I'll pay about 60 dollars but, considering I lost the key, there's no way I can complain about or get out of this so I actually don't have much bile about the situation. ... It might be worse if the locker has already been drilled/broken into and the lock replaced, my belongings lost. (I don't even remember what was in there, aside from a shirt I would have liked to keep and an empty binder in good shape.) Meh. Live and learn.
-finding winter boots. BOO! I hate them. I hate shopping for footwear...unless they're Chuck Taylors. BOoya.
Monday, 12 November 2007
in the words of the Genie, "Oi! does it feel goood to be OUTTA THERE!"
"...Ten thousand yeeeears can give you such a crick in the neck!"
It feels weird to write without parameters. Like really weird. I feel like I'm breaking a rule. Oh well! I win.
So much on ice, so little time. Except there's actually quite a bit of time. I started watching "The Office" (the US version) and I haven't quite made up my mind yet. It feels good to know about a popular show WHILE it's on the air, unlike "F·R·I·E·N·D·S", which I pine for regularly..I think also of ground-breaking films that I missed and Fight Club (1998) is the only one that comes to mind. Oh well. So right now I'm watching it ("The Office") so I can say I watched it. I don't like that reason either but I think I like the show. I appreciate the idiosyncrasies. I appreciate that Steve Carrell seems to be surprizingly modest, like Jim Carrey was around the mid-point in his career. I love it. It makes me appreciate their genius so much more. You see that they are actually acting, that they're working on a character, not just saying things that are funny because they know they're funny. Michael Scott does piss me off a bit but I think that's because I watch too many episodes in succession. You need a break from that kind of intensity. ([whispering:] It's like hanging out with family.) My friend lent me Seasons 1 and 2 on Monday and by Friday night, they were done. It made me feel kinda sick, actually. It's like gluttony.
I can't seem to shake this feeling that watching "The Office" is like joining Facebook because I've succumbed to the beast. I want to leave my opinion's status as "indefinitely withheld". I'm disgusting..what can I say? I wanna go rent Season 3 so I can start watching 4 as they're aired. How cool would that be?? The only real show I watch is "Prison Break" and that's about to hit its Fall Finale... in about 4 hours 35 minutes.
Rainn Wilson is BRILLIANT and I can't tell if John Krasinski is acting or not. His character is ... almost like a boy band among television characters. I feel like I'm being pandered to. But I'll withhold, still - until after Season 3, methinks.
My friend wrote this in a message to me regarding her and her boyfriend. I thought I could replace a few names and make it make a lot of sense to me.
She said that their relationship was becoming more "real" because they had had their first real fight, for lack of a better word. It was a disagreement but it was more confrontational than ever, and she is not a confrontational person at ALL. So big deal, big deal.
"its weird, i feel like all ur deepest and darkest insecurities and issues come out when u are close with someone.. its like u cant hide from urself anymore, u gotta confront urself if u want it to work with someone else. its great, but sorta scary. moral of the story is: [____] is worth getting a bit scared for."
I think it's fantastic. That moment of surrender that means "I trust you with everything" is certainly a profound moment. I love foraging.
It feels weird to write without parameters. Like really weird. I feel like I'm breaking a rule. Oh well! I win.
So much on ice, so little time. Except there's actually quite a bit of time. I started watching "The Office" (the US version) and I haven't quite made up my mind yet. It feels good to know about a popular show WHILE it's on the air, unlike "F·R·I·E·N·D·S", which I pine for regularly..I think also of ground-breaking films that I missed and Fight Club (1998) is the only one that comes to mind. Oh well. So right now I'm watching it ("The Office") so I can say I watched it. I don't like that reason either but I think I like the show. I appreciate the idiosyncrasies. I appreciate that Steve Carrell seems to be surprizingly modest, like Jim Carrey was around the mid-point in his career. I love it. It makes me appreciate their genius so much more. You see that they are actually acting, that they're working on a character, not just saying things that are funny because they know they're funny. Michael Scott does piss me off a bit but I think that's because I watch too many episodes in succession. You need a break from that kind of intensity. ([whispering:] It's like hanging out with family.) My friend lent me Seasons 1 and 2 on Monday and by Friday night, they were done. It made me feel kinda sick, actually. It's like gluttony.
I can't seem to shake this feeling that watching "The Office" is like joining Facebook because I've succumbed to the beast. I want to leave my opinion's status as "indefinitely withheld". I'm disgusting..what can I say? I wanna go rent Season 3 so I can start watching 4 as they're aired. How cool would that be?? The only real show I watch is "Prison Break" and that's about to hit its Fall Finale... in about 4 hours 35 minutes.
Rainn Wilson is BRILLIANT and I can't tell if John Krasinski is acting or not. His character is ... almost like a boy band among television characters. I feel like I'm being pandered to. But I'll withhold, still - until after Season 3, methinks.
My friend wrote this in a message to me regarding her and her boyfriend. I thought I could replace a few names and make it make a lot of sense to me.
She said that their relationship was becoming more "real" because they had had their first real fight, for lack of a better word. It was a disagreement but it was more confrontational than ever, and she is not a confrontational person at ALL. So big deal, big deal.
"its weird, i feel like all ur deepest and darkest insecurities and issues come out when u are close with someone.. its like u cant hide from urself anymore, u gotta confront urself if u want it to work with someone else. its great, but sorta scary. moral of the story is: [____] is worth getting a bit scared for."
I think it's fantastic. That moment of surrender that means "I trust you with everything" is certainly a profound moment. I love foraging.
Series: Mosaic Tablets (10/10)
Number ten: cheatsing [7]
Exodus 20: 14 - "You shall not commit adultery."
I wanted this to be my original post.
---------------
Matthew 5:27-8 - "You have heard that it was said, 'Do not commit adultery.' But I tell you that anyone who looks at a woman lustfully has already committed adultery with her in his heart."
Jason Bateman
Hank Azaria
Tony Danza
George Eads
Cary Elwes
Howie Mandel
Brendan Fraser
Ewan McGregor
Steve Martin
David Caruso
Michael Rosenbaum
David Schwimmer
Jonathan Togo
Johnny Depp
Vince Vaughn
Tom Welling
Mark Wahlberg
Wentworth Miller
Mmm-hmmmmmmmmmmmm.
-----------------
But then when I looked at verses 29 and 30 of Matthew chapter 5, I was confronted with the realization that I was not taking this seriously. I mean...I thought the abrupt post would be funny. Two verses, a list and an onomatopia is really not very thoughtful or deep but let's be realistic here -- I'm a bit of a horn-dog. God knows it. And I'm OK with it.
It's weird; as I look at that list and try to pare it down, I find it's hard to cut people cuz really, I like them for their talents (they wouldn't make the list otherwise) and if they're good lookin it's icing on the cake...but I find it hard to separate the two.
"If your right eye causes you to sin, gouge it out and throw it away. It is better for you to lose one part of your body than for your whole body to be thrown into hell. And if you right hand causes you to sin, cut it off and throw it away. It is better for you to lose one part of your body than for your whole body to go into hell."
So I set out on a mission to figure out what adultery is, what it means for someone who's not married; what lust is and why it's wrong. (Not that I need to be convinced but that would help me to recognize it.)
Four days, eleven and a half hours later, I don't consider myself to be a very lustful person, if I'm honest.
I found Warnings Against Adultery (and the Adulteress) in Proverbs 5, 6 and 7. I get it...but it's not me. It's not me and I'm done second-guessing myself.
I heard this line in The Negotiator (1998) tonight, "I know this whole marriage things is new to you but coming home every night is a big part of it." It was a weird moment for me because that's not really one of the things that comes to mind when I think about being married. As a matter of fact, I rarely make the distinction between marriage and a wedding. My gut reaction was to find a way to prepare myself for convincing my husband I don't need to be cooped up, as well as preparing to have excuses to stay out. Weird. I'm sure I reacted this way only because I feel I'm being told something that I cannot do. Realistically, though, I don't think this will be a problem, I don't. I mean, yeah, if it becomes a habit then of course anyone would become suspicious but I plan to be faithful.
You know, the dictionary.com definition of "lust" does not please me.
1. intense sexual desire or appetite. (barely scratches the surface)
2. uncontrolled or illicit sexual desire or appetite; lecherousness. (that's the one. "uncontrolled" is the word.)
3. a passionate or overmastering desire or craving.* (I believe it.)
Someone I know defined lust [first explaining that sexual lust is a specific kind, not the whole definition] as a desire for something one should not have. That makes sense to me. Staking claim on something that's not yours can't never be good. I don't....have those kind of expectations.
Another friend said that you know you've crossed the line when you're doing something that doesn't honor the other person. Honor is a very, very tricky concept for me; I can't wrap my head around it. (That "line" that I speak of, it's the one between lust and attraction.) What I do know is that the vast majority of what I have said or thought in regards to the people above (+ others) is something I could say to their face. I mean, on a scale of one to awkward it would be pretty intense but not offensive. I'm a pretty shallow person. And I try not to dwell.
*http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/lust
Exodus 20: 14 - "You shall not commit adultery."
I wanted this to be my original post.
---------------
Matthew 5:27-8 - "You have heard that it was said, 'Do not commit adultery.' But I tell you that anyone who looks at a woman lustfully has already committed adultery with her in his heart."
Jason Bateman
Hank Azaria
Tony Danza
George Eads
Cary Elwes
Howie Mandel
Brendan Fraser
Ewan McGregor
Steve Martin
David Caruso
Michael Rosenbaum
David Schwimmer
Jonathan Togo
Johnny Depp
Vince Vaughn
Tom Welling
Mark Wahlberg
Wentworth Miller
Mmm-hmmmmmmmmmmmm.
-----------------
But then when I looked at verses 29 and 30 of Matthew chapter 5, I was confronted with the realization that I was not taking this seriously. I mean...I thought the abrupt post would be funny. Two verses, a list and an onomatopia is really not very thoughtful or deep but let's be realistic here -- I'm a bit of a horn-dog. God knows it. And I'm OK with it.
It's weird; as I look at that list and try to pare it down, I find it's hard to cut people cuz really, I like them for their talents (they wouldn't make the list otherwise) and if they're good lookin it's icing on the cake...but I find it hard to separate the two.
"If your right eye causes you to sin, gouge it out and throw it away. It is better for you to lose one part of your body than for your whole body to be thrown into hell. And if you right hand causes you to sin, cut it off and throw it away. It is better for you to lose one part of your body than for your whole body to go into hell."
So I set out on a mission to figure out what adultery is, what it means for someone who's not married; what lust is and why it's wrong. (Not that I need to be convinced but that would help me to recognize it.)
Four days, eleven and a half hours later, I don't consider myself to be a very lustful person, if I'm honest.
I found Warnings Against Adultery (and the Adulteress) in Proverbs 5, 6 and 7. I get it...but it's not me. It's not me and I'm done second-guessing myself.
I heard this line in The Negotiator (1998) tonight, "I know this whole marriage things is new to you but coming home every night is a big part of it." It was a weird moment for me because that's not really one of the things that comes to mind when I think about being married. As a matter of fact, I rarely make the distinction between marriage and a wedding. My gut reaction was to find a way to prepare myself for convincing my husband I don't need to be cooped up, as well as preparing to have excuses to stay out. Weird. I'm sure I reacted this way only because I feel I'm being told something that I cannot do. Realistically, though, I don't think this will be a problem, I don't. I mean, yeah, if it becomes a habit then of course anyone would become suspicious but I plan to be faithful.
You know, the dictionary.com definition of "lust" does not please me.
1. intense sexual desire or appetite. (barely scratches the surface)
2. uncontrolled or illicit sexual desire or appetite; lecherousness. (that's the one. "uncontrolled" is the word.)
3. a passionate or overmastering desire or craving.* (I believe it.)
Someone I know defined lust [first explaining that sexual lust is a specific kind, not the whole definition] as a desire for something one should not have. That makes sense to me. Staking claim on something that's not yours can't never be good. I don't....have those kind of expectations.
Another friend said that you know you've crossed the line when you're doing something that doesn't honor the other person. Honor is a very, very tricky concept for me; I can't wrap my head around it. (That "line" that I speak of, it's the one between lust and attraction.) What I do know is that the vast majority of what I have said or thought in regards to the people above (+ others) is something I could say to their face. I mean, on a scale of one to awkward it would be pretty intense but not offensive. I'm a pretty shallow person. And I try not to dwell.
*http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/lust
Wednesday, 7 November 2007
Series: Mosaic Tablets (9/10)
Number nine: parental respect [5]
Exodus 20:12 - "Honor your father and your mother, so that you may live long in the land that the LORD your God is giving you."
Calleigh was called at work to come pick her dad up from a local bar where he had been cut off but was refusing to go home. He wasn't violent or rude just aimless and over-staying his welcome. She went in and greeted him; they chatted and she asked if he would walk her to her car. "A gentleman never refuses the request of a lady." He's fully the typical Southern man, accent, light-colored suit with loosed collar and all. As he's moving to take the passenger seat, he leans in briefly as he passes his daughter holding the door to say, "I miss you, Calleigh," not full of emotion but perhaps more reflective than anything. She doesn't follow him with her eyes or her head, nor does she close the door right away. Staring into nothing, she says, half to herself but loud enough so he can hear, "I'm here right now, Dad."
(He probably didn't hear her and even if he did no deep or groundbreaking conversation was about to take place.)
I've never been in this exact situation but I can say that my dad does often tell me that I should call him more often. I think that if he wants to talk to me then he should call. It's just normal procedure. Shall we infer then that I don't want to talk to my dad? Well usually, I don't. It's not a talk, it's a long listening-spree which is fine in small doses but often hard to break out of. It's hard to be engaged in something that is called a "conversation" but is quite certainly one-sided. Then you start to wonder: would it be any different if he were talking to a basket of oranges?
I don't know what it means to "honor your parents." The word "honor" throws me off. I've never understood it, as long as I've been familiar with the Law. But it will come, eventually.
In February, a speaker was telling us a bit about his daughter and because this guy's a new father and his daughter's just two, you can tell that he's proud and very enamoured with her. He told of how he and his wife have been working hard to teach her all the important things that young'ns need to know and one of them is good manners. He said that when he's out somewhere, over at a friend's house or whatever, if she behaves herself then it reflects well on he and his wife as parents. He said something like, "She honors me by doing what I say." In a moment, what he meant fully clicked. I realized that YES, when a child behaves badly or goodly, we blame or credit the parents. I realized that YES, that most certainly must also be true with the God I know who is like my father.
I guess we could say there's honor in obedience. I guess we could say that. I'm sure there's more to it than that, though.
Usually when people I know talk about "honoring their parents," they're talking about doing something that they don't want to, simply because a mother or a father asked them to. I've never been put in that spot, where we have a full-on black-and-white difference of opinion and I've got to put my own on ice. I guess I should be glad for that.
Also, in the preliminary survey, I wanted to cut the earthly reps out of the equation and talk about a Heavenly Father. I thought about it twice times and both times got to say, "Hey - God could be the 'father' ...and then what about the 'mother'?" Of course Mother Nature comes to mind but uhh NO. That's not..really meaningful to me beyond how the personification makes it sound more reasonable (or necessary?) to show respect. If we're talking about a GOOD analog then really, there is no one who is on par with or can even be reasonably compared to God to be the counterpart. Now, there are a few things I just don't understand about women, and women and men, and God's intentions and men's foul-ups but what I can say is that I don't think He meant to leave us without a mother figure. We just would have never figured it out without Him. If we were made in God's image, male and female alike, then God must have the qualities of both males and females. There's no other way.. unless women are not.. of God. What are God's maternal qualities? That is my real question. When have I seen them?
How do people know that my obedience is fuelled by the desire to honor my parents? There's an even better question. I mean, after you leave your parents' house, it's all you; it's not a very direct reflection on them at all. So how should people know that I'm obedient to God? I guess for believers, they know the mandates and they can connect the dots. For non-believers, perhaps it's just a matter of subtitles and captions. I wish this post made more sense.
Oh - I should dissect the verse a little bit, too. "...[S]o that you may live long in the land the LORD your God is giving you." Obeying/honoring your parents is a wise choice when your parents know better than you do. If you're lucky, most of the time they do. There will be a stage when it's a battle over who knows better, then you slam some doors and eventually work it out. But before it's decided that YOU are the adult who knows what's best for you, listening to someone who has your best interests at heart definitely ought to bring you longevity in the land flowing with milk and honey.
Now I hafta take a step back and place that sentiment in the other context.
One day, when I have enough time to process it, I'll be able to articulate how men make it harder to see and to welcome God because they just don't know what is best. Sure it sounds like a cheap argument and is of course easy to say when you're talking about something you believe in. I could say the same thing if I was selling encyclopediae door-to-door. What I mean is that WE HAVE NO IDEA WHAT WE TRULY NEED. We just don't get what it's like to be truly well taken care of - and how could we without ever having experienced it? If you tell someone who does not have ears to hear that all of what they need is - ever so conveniently - all of what Jesus has, they won't believe you. Aaand they might laugh at you. This is most people, not all. Otherwise, wouldn't nobody be a Christ-follower. The other problem is that, even if we DID see that what He got is what we need (...sounds like a messed-up R&B song) we might be inclined to think we don't deserve it. If the Queen of England asked me to come sit on a throne right next to the royal one, to commission the construction of my own wing in the castle and to call the princes and princesses my equals and exploit the full rights and freedoms that came with that position, I'd feel pretty awkward. If I was living in feudal times, I would feel suPREME awkwardness. In fact, it would be so completely unheard of back then (assuming, of course, that I'm anything BUT royalty) that I might even snap at you for insulting me with your tales of nonsense. Now, of course I don't "need" excessive riches but the life that Christ offers smells exactly the same compared to what we wallow in without Him.
So, with God, the door-slamming stage may occur but should never be a catalyst to the time of self-government that we find apart from our parents. THAT is natural. Deciding we have finally had enough direction and instruction from God and that we can take it from here is not natural (in the purest sense). Maybe our sinful nature leads us that way - and the dual-natured condition of man is too lofty for me, especially right now- but we should resist.
"Obeying/honoring [God] is a wise choice when [God] know[s] better than you do."
"...[L]istening to someone who has your best interests at heart definitely ought to bring you longevity in the land flowing with milk and honey."
Tru obedience is shown when one submits and they know the given authority is wrong. It's like executing an order from a commanding officer that you don't agree with. Military men take an oath that keeps the whole system from breaking down and darned if they don't uphold it. It's like being a fan of a team when it's losing or better yet, when it plays poorly. No band-wagon jumpage allowed. With parents we encounter this. With God, we might think we do. If we were Job, we might think we were in this positoin. There will be moments where we doubt that God has made the right decision or moments we're sure He's just being cruel or forgetful or ignorant and THOSE would be our parallel moments to show our tru colors. With men you will sometimes have a moment that you need to break your oath and say, "I can't support you as a leader," subjecting yourself to the rudest of repercussions. I'm glad that with God those moments never come, no matter what, no matter what.
Exodus 20:12 - "Honor your father and your mother, so that you may live long in the land that the LORD your God is giving you."
Calleigh was called at work to come pick her dad up from a local bar where he had been cut off but was refusing to go home. He wasn't violent or rude just aimless and over-staying his welcome. She went in and greeted him; they chatted and she asked if he would walk her to her car. "A gentleman never refuses the request of a lady." He's fully the typical Southern man, accent, light-colored suit with loosed collar and all. As he's moving to take the passenger seat, he leans in briefly as he passes his daughter holding the door to say, "I miss you, Calleigh," not full of emotion but perhaps more reflective than anything. She doesn't follow him with her eyes or her head, nor does she close the door right away. Staring into nothing, she says, half to herself but loud enough so he can hear, "I'm here right now, Dad."
(He probably didn't hear her and even if he did no deep or groundbreaking conversation was about to take place.)
I've never been in this exact situation but I can say that my dad does often tell me that I should call him more often. I think that if he wants to talk to me then he should call. It's just normal procedure. Shall we infer then that I don't want to talk to my dad? Well usually, I don't. It's not a talk, it's a long listening-spree which is fine in small doses but often hard to break out of. It's hard to be engaged in something that is called a "conversation" but is quite certainly one-sided. Then you start to wonder: would it be any different if he were talking to a basket of oranges?
I don't know what it means to "honor your parents." The word "honor" throws me off. I've never understood it, as long as I've been familiar with the Law. But it will come, eventually.
In February, a speaker was telling us a bit about his daughter and because this guy's a new father and his daughter's just two, you can tell that he's proud and very enamoured with her. He told of how he and his wife have been working hard to teach her all the important things that young'ns need to know and one of them is good manners. He said that when he's out somewhere, over at a friend's house or whatever, if she behaves herself then it reflects well on he and his wife as parents. He said something like, "She honors me by doing what I say." In a moment, what he meant fully clicked. I realized that YES, when a child behaves badly or goodly, we blame or credit the parents. I realized that YES, that most certainly must also be true with the God I know who is like my father.
I guess we could say there's honor in obedience. I guess we could say that. I'm sure there's more to it than that, though.
Usually when people I know talk about "honoring their parents," they're talking about doing something that they don't want to, simply because a mother or a father asked them to. I've never been put in that spot, where we have a full-on black-and-white difference of opinion and I've got to put my own on ice. I guess I should be glad for that.
Also, in the preliminary survey, I wanted to cut the earthly reps out of the equation and talk about a Heavenly Father. I thought about it twice times and both times got to say, "Hey - God could be the 'father' ...and then what about the 'mother'?" Of course Mother Nature comes to mind but uhh NO. That's not..really meaningful to me beyond how the personification makes it sound more reasonable (or necessary?) to show respect. If we're talking about a GOOD analog then really, there is no one who is on par with or can even be reasonably compared to God to be the counterpart. Now, there are a few things I just don't understand about women, and women and men, and God's intentions and men's foul-ups but what I can say is that I don't think He meant to leave us without a mother figure. We just would have never figured it out without Him. If we were made in God's image, male and female alike, then God must have the qualities of both males and females. There's no other way.. unless women are not.. of God. What are God's maternal qualities? That is my real question. When have I seen them?
How do people know that my obedience is fuelled by the desire to honor my parents? There's an even better question. I mean, after you leave your parents' house, it's all you; it's not a very direct reflection on them at all. So how should people know that I'm obedient to God? I guess for believers, they know the mandates and they can connect the dots. For non-believers, perhaps it's just a matter of subtitles and captions. I wish this post made more sense.
Oh - I should dissect the verse a little bit, too. "...[S]o that you may live long in the land the LORD your God is giving you." Obeying/honoring your parents is a wise choice when your parents know better than you do. If you're lucky, most of the time they do. There will be a stage when it's a battle over who knows better, then you slam some doors and eventually work it out. But before it's decided that YOU are the adult who knows what's best for you, listening to someone who has your best interests at heart definitely ought to bring you longevity in the land flowing with milk and honey.
Now I hafta take a step back and place that sentiment in the other context.
One day, when I have enough time to process it, I'll be able to articulate how men make it harder to see and to welcome God because they just don't know what is best. Sure it sounds like a cheap argument and is of course easy to say when you're talking about something you believe in. I could say the same thing if I was selling encyclopediae door-to-door. What I mean is that WE HAVE NO IDEA WHAT WE TRULY NEED. We just don't get what it's like to be truly well taken care of - and how could we without ever having experienced it? If you tell someone who does not have ears to hear that all of what they need is - ever so conveniently - all of what Jesus has, they won't believe you. Aaand they might laugh at you. This is most people, not all. Otherwise, wouldn't nobody be a Christ-follower. The other problem is that, even if we DID see that what He got is what we need (...sounds like a messed-up R&B song) we might be inclined to think we don't deserve it. If the Queen of England asked me to come sit on a throne right next to the royal one, to commission the construction of my own wing in the castle and to call the princes and princesses my equals and exploit the full rights and freedoms that came with that position, I'd feel pretty awkward. If I was living in feudal times, I would feel suPREME awkwardness. In fact, it would be so completely unheard of back then (assuming, of course, that I'm anything BUT royalty) that I might even snap at you for insulting me with your tales of nonsense. Now, of course I don't "need" excessive riches but the life that Christ offers smells exactly the same compared to what we wallow in without Him.
So, with God, the door-slamming stage may occur but should never be a catalyst to the time of self-government that we find apart from our parents. THAT is natural. Deciding we have finally had enough direction and instruction from God and that we can take it from here is not natural (in the purest sense). Maybe our sinful nature leads us that way - and the dual-natured condition of man is too lofty for me, especially right now- but we should resist.
"Obeying/honoring [God] is a wise choice when [God] know[s] better than you do."
"...[L]istening to someone who has your best interests at heart definitely ought to bring you longevity in the land flowing with milk and honey."
Tru obedience is shown when one submits and they know the given authority is wrong. It's like executing an order from a commanding officer that you don't agree with. Military men take an oath that keeps the whole system from breaking down and darned if they don't uphold it. It's like being a fan of a team when it's losing or better yet, when it plays poorly. No band-wagon jumpage allowed. With parents we encounter this. With God, we might think we do. If we were Job, we might think we were in this positoin. There will be moments where we doubt that God has made the right decision or moments we're sure He's just being cruel or forgetful or ignorant and THOSE would be our parallel moments to show our tru colors. With men you will sometimes have a moment that you need to break your oath and say, "I can't support you as a leader," subjecting yourself to the rudest of repercussions. I'm glad that with God those moments never come, no matter what, no matter what.
Tuesday, 6 November 2007
Series: Mosaic Tablets (8/10)
Number eight: le septieme jour de la semaine [4]
Exodus 20:8-1 - "Remember the Sabbath day by keeping it holy. Six days you shall labor and do all your work, but the seventh day is a Sabbath to the LORD your God. On it you shall not do any work, neither you, nor your son or daughter, nor your manservant or maidservant, nor your animals, nor the alien within your gates. For in six days the LORD made the heavens and the earth, the sea, and all that is in them, but he rested on the seventh day. Therefore the LORD blessed the Sabbath day and made it holy."
I definitely emitted a relieved but energetic, "YES!" when I realized that this command would fit what I wanted to talk about - or at least one of the 1800 things I have been wanting to write about.
While setting tags/triggers for the remaining three, I kept cringing when I thought about keeping the Sabbath because I think of the handful of people I know who have told me how they have taken Sabbaths of their own, either regularly, in the weekly fashion or a one-in-a-while "I needst some time alone cuz I've been busy as a toilet in a bus station" fashion. I think the idea is good. I think it's good to set apart a day to REST with God. I think it makes sense to work for six days and rest for one and because arguments about whether THE Sabbath is technically on Saturday or Sunday piss me off, I'm going to leave them alone. Our small group discussion of last Monday centred the topic "Sunday" and somewheres in the middle we all had to agree (because there was no way to disagree) that the Sabbath comes after six days of labor, n'importe quand. This is an instance in which I would say the times have changed and that affects what we call the Sabs. I mean, when people worked with the sun and slept with the moon, it was easier for EVERYONE (every one in your "church," that is) to devote the same day every week. What church or youth group or other Christians-meeting-cuz-they're-Christians group has perfect attendance for even two consecutive weeks? What about 52?
I'm hijacking this context for an excuse to talk about the church service I attended yesterday morn.
I think this was the first time I disagreed with a sermon so real-ly. (See how the word "really" is actually useful? I often don't.) The problem is that I took personal offense to something the pastor said from the get-go... pretty much his first example. I should have let it go so that I could listen to the rest of the sermon properly or impartially. Je ne suis pas parfaite.
He asked if anyone in the congregation remembered handing out tracts or being handed tracts. Instantly, the core of my abdomen (like a core of an apple.. think of a cylinder four inches wide right down the middle) tightened and twisted up, either like a baited fist or a rag wrung by nervous hands and..you know.. I'm not sure I apologize for that. It's tricky, this subject, it is. Tracts, by themselves (little booklets of information), are not bad. Things that make people upset or hostile or feel patronized are bad. If tracts happen to be those things, don't use them. Burn them, amend them or temper them with your words and delivery. It drives me nuts when people refuse to separate things reasonably.
Anyways, the problem I had with the BULK of the sermon was that it seemed the congregation was being challenged on the surface, in a very explicit way, but let off the hook somewhere underneath. "Follow the Prompting" was the title which is cool. The pastor's thesis was that the only successful (dependable?) evangelism approach is to follow the Holy Spirit's leading. It's tru; it's gotta be. The pastor started, as I alluded to before, by discussing various styles of evangelism (discluding the unplanned/conversational or "relational" kind) and how all of them (could) have huge mother drawbacks - of course. And some things we as people or as a church or whoever have learned, over time, just don't work. We learn from the mistakes of our fathers (in some things, I believe).
The pastor made an excellent point, that sometimes what the H-Spizzo is prompting us to do is be quiet. Sometimes you just need to say nothing. You can sit there and pray all you want for opportunities and sensitivity and words but they may just never come - and that's OK. (The way he said it was much more effective.)
What made me uncomfortable was first that it seemed like we were being told that we only need to listen to the Holy Spirit intently when we're fixing to tell someone about JC. I dunno about that. I just don't know about that. I'm sure it's possible that I was misinterpreting this guy because I've only been to this church about a dozen times so I haven't learned his preaching or orating style to be able to read between his lines very well (or really..at all). But my main beef is that you can't realize the utter importance of leaning in and listening closely to the H-Spizzo because you know that any of your actions will be inadequate and misguided without Him in just one arena. Ahh if it's not true for your whole life then you don't know what you're doing.
Then again (dot, dot, dot), if you want to argue that TELLING is our whole life's purpose - in season, out of season, in some form or another; passive or agressive - then maybe you COULDST get away with saying this is the one arena. I'm not really sold on that concept. It's too stretchy.
[I'm wondering now how relevant this verse is: "Are you so foolish? After beginning with the Spirit, are you now trying to attain your goal by human effort?" (Galatians 3:3). I want this to mean, "Are you so foolish to think that the Spirit is necessary for some things but not for others?" That's stretchy, too. I admit it.]
What made me uncomfortable second was that the pastor seemed to be (again, note: "seemed to") saying that evangelism should not be confrontational - not in the approach but in the content (of any given conversation). Meh.. I dunno. It's confrontational, the Gospel, and it's also urgent... ach but hey- it was a good start. It's good to implore people to rely on the HS to tell the story. Some Sundays are good.
Exodus 20:8-1 - "Remember the Sabbath day by keeping it holy. Six days you shall labor and do all your work, but the seventh day is a Sabbath to the LORD your God. On it you shall not do any work, neither you, nor your son or daughter, nor your manservant or maidservant, nor your animals, nor the alien within your gates. For in six days the LORD made the heavens and the earth, the sea, and all that is in them, but he rested on the seventh day. Therefore the LORD blessed the Sabbath day and made it holy."
I definitely emitted a relieved but energetic, "YES!" when I realized that this command would fit what I wanted to talk about - or at least one of the 1800 things I have been wanting to write about.
While setting tags/triggers for the remaining three, I kept cringing when I thought about keeping the Sabbath because I think of the handful of people I know who have told me how they have taken Sabbaths of their own, either regularly, in the weekly fashion or a one-in-a-while "I needst some time alone cuz I've been busy as a toilet in a bus station" fashion. I think the idea is good. I think it's good to set apart a day to REST with God. I think it makes sense to work for six days and rest for one and because arguments about whether THE Sabbath is technically on Saturday or Sunday piss me off, I'm going to leave them alone. Our small group discussion of last Monday centred the topic "Sunday" and somewheres in the middle we all had to agree (because there was no way to disagree) that the Sabbath comes after six days of labor, n'importe quand. This is an instance in which I would say the times have changed and that affects what we call the Sabs. I mean, when people worked with the sun and slept with the moon, it was easier for EVERYONE (every one in your "church," that is) to devote the same day every week. What church or youth group or other Christians-meeting-cuz-they're-Christians group has perfect attendance for even two consecutive weeks? What about 52?
I'm hijacking this context for an excuse to talk about the church service I attended yesterday morn.
I think this was the first time I disagreed with a sermon so real-ly. (See how the word "really" is actually useful? I often don't.) The problem is that I took personal offense to something the pastor said from the get-go... pretty much his first example. I should have let it go so that I could listen to the rest of the sermon properly or impartially. Je ne suis pas parfaite.
He asked if anyone in the congregation remembered handing out tracts or being handed tracts. Instantly, the core of my abdomen (like a core of an apple.. think of a cylinder four inches wide right down the middle) tightened and twisted up, either like a baited fist or a rag wrung by nervous hands and..you know.. I'm not sure I apologize for that. It's tricky, this subject, it is. Tracts, by themselves (little booklets of information), are not bad. Things that make people upset or hostile or feel patronized are bad. If tracts happen to be those things, don't use them. Burn them, amend them or temper them with your words and delivery. It drives me nuts when people refuse to separate things reasonably.
Anyways, the problem I had with the BULK of the sermon was that it seemed the congregation was being challenged on the surface, in a very explicit way, but let off the hook somewhere underneath. "Follow the Prompting" was the title which is cool. The pastor's thesis was that the only successful (dependable?) evangelism approach is to follow the Holy Spirit's leading. It's tru; it's gotta be. The pastor started, as I alluded to before, by discussing various styles of evangelism (discluding the unplanned/conversational or "relational" kind) and how all of them (could) have huge mother drawbacks - of course. And some things we as people or as a church or whoever have learned, over time, just don't work. We learn from the mistakes of our fathers (in some things, I believe).
The pastor made an excellent point, that sometimes what the H-Spizzo is prompting us to do is be quiet. Sometimes you just need to say nothing. You can sit there and pray all you want for opportunities and sensitivity and words but they may just never come - and that's OK. (The way he said it was much more effective.)
What made me uncomfortable was first that it seemed like we were being told that we only need to listen to the Holy Spirit intently when we're fixing to tell someone about JC. I dunno about that. I just don't know about that. I'm sure it's possible that I was misinterpreting this guy because I've only been to this church about a dozen times so I haven't learned his preaching or orating style to be able to read between his lines very well (or really..at all). But my main beef is that you can't realize the utter importance of leaning in and listening closely to the H-Spizzo because you know that any of your actions will be inadequate and misguided without Him in just one arena. Ahh if it's not true for your whole life then you don't know what you're doing.
Then again (dot, dot, dot), if you want to argue that TELLING is our whole life's purpose - in season, out of season, in some form or another; passive or agressive - then maybe you COULDST get away with saying this is the one arena. I'm not really sold on that concept. It's too stretchy.
[I'm wondering now how relevant this verse is: "Are you so foolish? After beginning with the Spirit, are you now trying to attain your goal by human effort?" (Galatians 3:3). I want this to mean, "Are you so foolish to think that the Spirit is necessary for some things but not for others?" That's stretchy, too. I admit it.]
What made me uncomfortable second was that the pastor seemed to be (again, note: "seemed to") saying that evangelism should not be confrontational - not in the approach but in the content (of any given conversation). Meh.. I dunno. It's confrontational, the Gospel, and it's also urgent... ach but hey- it was a good start. It's good to implore people to rely on the HS to tell the story. Some Sundays are good.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
