a story?

I was hungry. I had thrown my bus money in my pocket in the morning, but forgotten my purse at home. I guess it knew what kind of day I was going to have and didn't want to participate. It was only after I got off the bus that I realized I had no money, no phone, and no food. What was I to do? I sat down on a concrete bench and mulled over my predicament. I felt like I had rocks jostling in my stomach, and my tongue was thick with thirst. Maybe...maybe...if I asked someone for some money, they would take pity on me. So I asked. Unfortunately, I had put on my grungy clothes today. I asked a proffesor-ly looking woman for a couple bucks. Her eyes flickered over me, but she didn't miss a step in her hurry to get to a more important person than me. I asked a university student. He turned out his pockets halfway, shook his head and shrugged in apology. A little later on, I saw him come out of Macs with a slurpee in hand. With my sense of humanity slowly dying inside me, I asked an old woman, a teenager, and another university student, all to no avail. They either gave me a querying look and kept walking, or just turned the other way. By now I was running on an empty tank. Physically. Emotionally. Spiritually. Can people really be that calloused toward another human being? Are our lives really that important that we can't stop to give a hungry person 2 bucks for a sandwich or a bus ride home? Finally, in the midst of the endless mess of people walking by me without a glance, I spotted an elderly man with a walker. He looked like he might at least be walking slow enough that he couldn't politely ignore me if I asked him for a couple bucks. I asked. He shuffled my way. He stopped and looked at me in the eyes, and introduced himself as Albert. He shook my hand and offered to take me to Subway.

My humanity was restored by the touch of a wrinkled hand and a kind gesture from someone who probably received less kindness and patience on a regular basis than me.

So tell me, why is it that we feel justified in walking right by people who ask for help? Why is it that it took a little old man on welfare to buy me a simple lunch?

Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. - Jesus Christ


















Always be clothed in white, and always anoint your head with oil. - King Solomon

















He restores my soul.














God is bigger than the boogieman. - Jr. Asparagus
(He's also bigger than a buffalo...)

btw

how does one best go about dying one's hair a noticeable blue?

spanish classes and cafeteria food

Hola! Me llamo Christie y soy de Alberta. Mucho gusto. ¿Cómo está usted? Español es muy dificil! The first person to translate this properly wins a prize.

Do you ever feel like yesterday's cafeteria food? Someone finds you interesting for a day, but after that, you're overrated and smelly, not even worthy of being thrown in the trash...I felt like that last week. Do you ever feel like someone thinks you're denser than a wet sponge? Someone stops communicating with you and thinks you won't notice. Do you ever feel like love (not romantic love, just love in general) causes a lot more pain than joy? It seems like when we love people, we also hurt. The more we love, the more we open ourselves up for pain.

It makes me wonder how God feels. If he by his very nature, is "Love," then he must also feel more pain than any human can ever feel. If I feel hurt by people not communicating with me, how much more pain does he feel? He loves us more than we can ever imagine, yet we constantly ignore him and think he won't notice. Aye, there's the rub. We think God is denser than a wet sponge. I think, "ah, I'll pray tomorrow. I'm not in the mood today. God won't mind. He probably won't even notice. Lot's of other people prayed today." But then I think of how shafted I feel when someone puts me off like that. Can God even feel pain? He must. The prophetic books are filled with God crying out to his people, "why do you keep choosing death? All you have to do is TURN TO ME and I will give you life!" That's a rather loose translation of something in Ezekiel. :) But the point is there. God loves us and wants to be with us. Obviously we don't really value a relationship with him, otherwise we wouldn't act like he's a dufus.

Do I act as if God is as dense as a wet sponge?

am i anxious?

Jon just asked me if I am nervous. Right now the woman from my potential job is on her way home to call me. Am I anxious? To be honest, not terribly. I'm excited, but not worried. Someway, somehow, I got to the point where anxiousness became a moot point and trust became paramount. How did it happen? At this moment, I can visualize my life going on two different paths, and me loving them both. Why? Because "the LORD will fulfill his purpose for me." Psalm 138 tells me that. The phone is ringing.

And now, half an hour later, I have been un-officially offered the Children's Ministry Director position! It's pretty incredible to know that this church feels like I would do right by them, that they have confidence in me, even though they don't know me well. AHHHHHH!! A little bit of anxiousness is now trying to get its cold tentacles into my heart. What if I can't get along with the people? What if baptism turns out to be a bigger issue than I thought? What if I can't do it? What if what if what if...but it's too easy to be strangled with 'what if's. I am reminded of a verse I memorized years ago..."do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, through prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus." (Philippians 4:6, 7) It's the verse that everyone quotes for seemingly every situation, but I think that's going to be my life-verse for the next little while.

superman-style

Why is it that life changes faster than a speeding bullet?

Last week, I was totally prepared to leave my job and move to a comfortable one from the same denomination on the other side of town. This week I'm hopefully preparing to be a Children's Ministry Director in a church from a different denomination in a different town.
Last week I was thinking how nice our home was, and how I hoped to be here for many more moons. This week, the time has come to think about moving out.
Last week I was frustrated with all the decisions I had to make. This week I'm pumped.
Last week I had no new clothes. This week I do.
Last week I was messy. This week I am clean.
Last week I was bored and lazy. This week I feel driven.
Last week, I was a dummy in the car. This week, I could win a driving award.
Last week, life was complicated. This week, it's even more complicated.
Hm.
I like speeding bullets. They make the story of my life actually pique my interest.

Eyeball ruminations

Did you know that it really is possible to sneeze your eyeballs right out of your head? Check out the most fascinating article I've read in ages. At 12:30 am it strikes me as particularly hilarious. :)

a prairie sunset

where else but the prairies can you find a sunset quite like this?

signs of spring, as seen around my place

what's your best guess?

Someone told me today that I should dye my hair blond. Perhaps my recent rash of car troubles has more to do with the fact that my beard is on too tight...

The innumerable

What culture lacks is the taste for anonymous, innumerable germination. Culture is smitten with counting and measuring; it feels out of place and uncomfortable with the innumerable; its efforts tend, on the contrary, to limit the numbers in all domains; it tries to count on its fingers.
- Jean Dubuffet, 1901 - 1985

I see this a lot in churches. We are smitten with numbers - how many conversions, how many baptisms, how many people attending on a given Sunday, how many people in a class, how often they come, how we score on a giftings test...is my faith no longer sacred? I don't recall Christ asking us to "go now and count thy church attenders." He said to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, and visit the sick and in prison. He didn't ask us to count on our fingers to see if the efforts are "worth" it. God's Word is an anonymous, innumerable germination. We can't rank a person's spiritual life as a particular level, nor can we necessarily classify each spiritual gift into a neat compartment. If that was the case, I suppose I'd be a class 5 Christian, whatever that means. But Dubuffet is right.
We lack the taste for the innumerable.
We desire numbers, because we understand numbers.
Numbers are pretty.
Numbers make sense.
Numbers are safe.
The Holy Spirit is not.

intellectual adventure

Stop asking God to bless what you’re doing.
Get involved in what God is doing—because it’s already blessed.

- Bono

glimpse of glory

The day was dismal. It was the sort of day when you want to hide under the covers with a hot water bottle and a smashing piece of fiction. But it was also the sort of day when things just had to be done. No hiding allowed. So I walked to the store under a canopy of misery. The clouds were depressed so they wouldn't let anything remotely cheerful through. The wind was whipping my hair around my head, my coat was flapping open, and air was whistling between my headphones and my ears, making it difficult to focus on anything but a depressing April afternoon. But my heart saw it before my eyes did. The clouds had parted just wide enough to allow me a brief peek beyond the dreariness. Outside of the canopy of misery was a sapphire sky, brilliantly joyful. I stopped and gaped at this small piece of hope in a sky of hopelessness. I felt sorry for the drivers who were going about their regular Saturday business with no inkling of the cerulean wonder just above the roofs of their metal cages. And I was reminded that no matter how miserable my life may get, there is always hope. Not hope somewhere in the distant future, but a real, present hope. "For you have been my hope, O Sovereign LORD, my confidence since my youth." (Psalm 71:5) A hope that is always there, despite the circumstances, despite the dreary clouds that overcome my vision at times. I love flying, because the sky is always blue above the clouds. No matter how many clouds cover my life, I know beyond doubt that the sky still sparkles in sapphire beyond my mortal vision. Even when my life seems dreary in comparison to globe-trotting, God is still there, and He is still marvelous. I just have to be willing to open my eyes and gaze in wonder on the marvels He gives.

jasper

I took this picture last year in Jasper...I just ran across it again and thought I'd share it...

my sense are tingling

Here's some of what I was feeling/seeing/smelling/etc the first morning i arrived in Mexico...

SOUNDS
birds chirping their cheerful welcome
bugs buzzing in sweet harmony
a child protesting against a rude awakening
feet slapping on the pavement outside the courtyard
trucks growling past, bellowing their objections to the bumps in the road
cars honking in irritation and revving with impatience
dogs yapping at their fellow canines
the shrieks of mischievous children

FEELINGS
cement floor, smooth against my bare feet.
I inhale the sweet warmth into my nostrils, letting the air swirl its way through my cavities, bringing warmth into my chilled body. For once, I am warm from the inside out.

SMELL
a slight musky smell reminiscent of wet dirt, car exhaust, and many bodies
fresh warmth
the suble fragrance of shy hydrangeas mixed with the almost-gone scent of pink bugembelias

SIGHT
lush green plams treees intermingled with other trees laden with emerald offerings
the occassional tree swarming with lavendar flowers, offering a gift to eyes accustomed to browns and greens
run-down businesses, busy highways, people who go about their daily business, just like me. Where are they all going?
a yellow fortress home
a small corner garden - a sunny haven for both light-thirsty plants and warmth-seeking northerners