Some days Anamnesis. Some days amnesia.

The Table-- a balance

2012-01-16T19:42:00.000-08:00

When I was 16 everything was exciting. Every moment of worship was complete surrender. It was easy then, as I had every hardship to surrender and yet not a whole lot in my control. And it was all so mundane-- starting at a youth conference in Southern Illinois on a college campus, with a “rocking” band, great speakers, and an acting group called “One Time Blind”. Fond memories to be sure. Typical, though. As I look back on it, I sometimes conceal that time because of the archetypal nature of it all—teen, youth convention, music, emotional highs, etc.

But tonight, I understood those moments anew again. I was caught up in the complete surrender of myself to God. And I realized that no matter the circumstance, no matter the formula—I am in control of my surrender. And if, in those moments as a teen, I surrendered so completely because of circumstance—I still made the commitment. It was still my choice and I made it. No one else.

Tonight was different. It was on my terms, in my home, and amidst only me and my closest friend. And this time, it was a surrender to give up some of the most planned moments of my life. And in exercising my abandon, I remembered those freeing moments of my youth. And I realized, though I have been their most ardent judge and critic, I yearned to continue the honesty and unadulterated authenticity found there. In employing abandon, I used the most unused part of me—my full reliance on God. It cannot be taught outside of these experiences. And I realized that I had not used, what others would call recklessness and I name as faith, in so complete a way since my youth.

And it felt beyond belief.

It was so beautiful I cried.

And perhaps it was emotional, or circumstantial. But I realize that emotions and circumstance should have every reason to sit at the table with reason and diplomacy. They have a voice, too. And they have been mute too long. They awakened a part of me that has long been silent in this world of academia. Too silent to be an honest reflection of myself. So, welcome back one and all to the table. May you speak with freedom, and may grace abound.

Still I Rise

2011-06-15T13:16:00.000-07:00

Still I Rise
By Maya Angelou

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I’ll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness off end you?
Don’t you take it awful hard
‘Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines
Diggin’ in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I’ve got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history’s shame
I rise

Up from a past that’s rooted in pain
I rise

I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise

Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
I rise

Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.
-------------------------------------------

This week, I am taking an intensive class about Christian Community Development.
We're reading a book called, The New Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness by Michelle Alexander. And the more I hear from my African-American brothers and sisters, the more I am inspired by Angelou's poem.

Forgiveness and Redemption

2011-03-02T18:15:00.000-08:00

I listened to another great story this week published by "This American Life". It described individuals whose lives changed in a flash, but the impact of a community's perseverance for setting something right. It reminds me that no justice system can replace the wisdom and grace of your community.

Where have you fought for justice in someone else's life lately? Would you stick it out for 20+ years?

Food, liturgy, and physicists-- a quest for understanding

2011-03-02T09:44:00.000-08:00

Waiter, There’s a Physicist in My Soup! (Part 1) | Freakonomics Radio

I attribute a great deal of my curiosity of "How things work", the basis for the Freakonomics Radio show I podcast, to my mother, the science/math teacher. Physics experiments were a regular part of everyday life, as well as "BrainQuest", Tanagrams, and riddles in the car. So, it may come as no surprise to you, friend, that I seem to connect and find patterns in things that seem to be completely unrelated. I tell and apologize to you now, it's due to the ever pressing quest to find out just-- how things work.

This particular week on Freakonomics Radio, they showed two different ways of pursuing the next era of cooking. The first-- Nathan Myhrvold an advocate for molecular gastronomy, pushing cooking forward into the next age with new methods of scientific exploration in physics-- food science. The second-- Alice Waters, represented in the podcast by Debussy's Clair de lune. She argues for the "Slow-food" movement of seasonal fruits, vegetables, and nuts, organically grown allowing ourselves to delve into the fabric of succulent taste just waiting to be enjoyed in their natural elements.

About 17 minutes into the program, these statements are made: (Dubner is the host of the program)

Dubner: I asked her (Alice Waters) what she thinks about Molecular Gastronomy.

Waters: I can’t say that I, uh, care a lot about it. I can’t say that. …I’m trying to get back to a kind of taste of food for what it is.

Dubner: And molecular gastronomy is trying to accomplish what in your view?

Waters: In my view, it’s to, you know, make it into something you can’t imagine—to surprise you. (laughter) And it’s not to say I haven’t been delightfully surprised. It’s not that. It’s that I’m so hungry for the taste of the real that I’m just not able to get into that which doesn’t feel real to me. It’s a kind of scientific experiment and I think there are good scientists and crazy old scientists that can be very amusing. But it’s more of a museum, not a kind of way of eating that we need to really live on this planet together.

Dubner:…Alice Water’s idea of the way we eat is to reconnect with the past, not only how our food is prepared, but how it’s grown, or raised, or caught. What she’s after, above all, is simplicity. Nathan Myhrvold, for his part, loves Chez Panisse, Water’s restaurant, but he also loves complexity. And he loves bringing science into the kitchen because, he says, it’s already there.

Nathan: Well, like it or not, physics happens. So, it turns out when you heat a piece of meat, there’s a set of physical principles that are at work. Wishing doesn’t make the food hot, it’s the way molecules bump into each other that makes it hot. And if you can understand that in a reasonable way, I think, it informs how you do cooking. Now is it possible to cook without understanding? Of course it is. And for people that want to just, in a rote way, repeat exactly what they were told to do without understanding why it works, hey go for it! You don’t need me. If all you want to do is repeat the recipes of the past and you have no curiosity as to how or why it works, then you don’t need to have this physical understanding.

On the other hand, I’d say, why does it ruin the experience to understand how and why it works? …I think that informing people, whether its chefs or its foodies or it’s the average person,(informing them some of the ways that some of this stuff actually works) I don’t see how that is a problematic notion.

Dubner: Nathan Myhrvold and Alice Waters both have an obvious passion for the future of food, but radically different ways to realize that vision.

…and is there a chance that all his (Myhrvold) scientific inquiry might trickle down to you and me?
I'm currently in a class at the CTU about Liturgy that has me thinking about the liturgy in our church in fabulously new ways, under critical examination and appeal. And one of the things I continue to come back to in my mind is the difference between so much intricacy and detail-- complexity, you might say, in some liturgies. And in opposition, some of the most simple liturgies, advocated especially by the Anabaptist tradition. I see both as a pursuit after the appreciation and furthering of the faith, and yet, one seems to mutually exclude the other.
I hear the same yearning in the voices of these two interviewees. One is desperate to get back to the root of why we love food-- to understand and experience it the way it is and came to us, pure and unadulterated. The other persists that the understanding must lead to exploration and complexity.

Their questions about food help me find new modes of looking at liturgy--
-Are we trying to merely make something we can't imagine? And if so, why? And is it good?
-Are we creating for creativity's sake, "a museum", and not for a "way of" practicing that we really need on this planet for living together?

-Is reconnecting with our past ignoring the future? Or does it truly represent something to be regained? Is it merely "going back to the sources" or "reclaiming the historical Jesus"?

-Or is there something in the liturgy that is "already there" asking us to delve deeper to understand and appreciate in order to create something new? (or is there not?)

-And if so, what is our responsibility in that? What level of participation is true engagement?

-And for what sake or provocateur are we creating?

-Nathan has also gone a step further in asking, not "why don't you want to know the depths of this?", but instead-- What about knowing this would ruin your experience, instead of enhancing it?

Interesting stuff. And the analogy only goes so far. The purposes of our gathered community's ritual is not quite the same as freeze drying a hamburger, of course. But for the sake of conversation and friendly banter, I'd love to hear your thoughts. (It's helpful to listen to the whole podcast to get the background. It's something like 27 minutes.)

Who knew food could ask me so many questions about liturgy?

No, love.

2011-02-08T11:15:00.000-08:00

I know I'm not the best pianist, or the best vocalist, and I'm sure I won't be the very best mother in the world (someday in that distant future). But when I listen to things like this, I remember the way God has woven His story in my life, with my passions and joys and strengths and weaknesses. And I hope I get to share all those things in a way as wonderful as this.

Sara Groves- You Cannot Lose My Love by INORecords

Advent wreath

2010-12-02T15:19:00.000-08:00

Don't have an advent wreath? Be creative!

More deals

2010-10-13T09:21:00.000-07:00

So, I think I'm about finished with this month's ConAgra deal. Here is my takeaway...

Total out of pocket expense? $17.97, and that's not counting the $10 I have on my next purchase at Jewel.

Now, what will it be....

Truth and Peace

2010-10-04T07:47:00.000-07:00

I rabbit-trailed upon this video today. I had seen a video of the man on the left (Ravi Zacharias) talking about the Bible amidst other holy books. The panel seem to be modern (and I mean that in the utmost sense of the word) experts in theology. They talk briefly about post-modernism and the questioning of a culture. It’s worth a view.

One of the last comments made is this: “Truth is too important to kill it in the streets for the sake of peace.”

What do you think? Truth or peace? Is that what it comes down to? Must we forsake truth for peace or peace for truth? I have seen a lot of division in churches and fewer attempts for peace. I've seen people taking a stand for being right, and completely destroying relationship. They emphasize knowing the right answers at the cost of both dialogue and continued growth with a friend of different opinions. But I know truth is important. We stand for truth, amidst the lies of satan.

In the Iconography I am studying at the moment, there is this concept of “Floats”. It is the layering of highlights that are accenting and accentuating the colors and meaning below. They are not covering up the original layer, but instead revealing. Each layer and float have respective meanings, but none surpasses the other in worth. They are there to fulfill a joint purpose and to bring a fullness to the Icon.

While, I don’t call myself a follower of Brian McLaren, I am among a generation that is questioning how much of faith is called upon to be fact, and how much is called upon to be relationship. And why is it that they have to be mutually exclusive? I don’t want to “abdicate Christian responsibility/conviction” nor be a “cave-in of Christian courage”. However, I think there are places for truth to be told from the highest mountain and places for peace. And there are places for truth to exist with a highlight or "float" of peace, so that we understand theology and Christianity in a living way. Must these questions be answered in a lecture hall, or stage, or can they be answered in a relationship, a lifestyle, or a conversation?
I'd love your thoughts.

I write like...

2010-08-06T07:19:00.000-07:00

I'm sure you've heard about the site: www.iwl.me ("I write like")
I first heard it on NPR and thought it would be fun. Using mostly posts from this blog, I write most like...
-Dan Brown
-H.P. Lovecraft (eek!)
-Gertrude Stein

Others of mention:
-Ernest Hemingway (I'm pretty sure most poetry is defaulted to him)
-Douglas Adams
-James Joyce
-Cory Doctrow

Try it out! Who do you write like?

To know and be known.

2010-08-05T09:38:00.000-07:00

Losing a loved one has been on my mind since last night. Hubby and I were reminiscing about the past three years of marriage (our anniversary is today) and we starting talking about the things we wished we could get as anniversary presents, but would be absolutely impossible. After Thomas threw my “Kitchen Aid mixer” into the category, he had a more serious moment and said, “I wish I could talk to my Grandparents.” All of his grandparents have passed away over the past couple of years and were an especially central part of Hubby’s life. We both sat in silence, lost in memories for a few minutes, honoring and missing their special connectedness to him. And though we let the moment pass, and moved on to other things, I’ve been letting it linger in my thoughts since.

I have amazing grandparents who are still living--who have been married to each other their entire adult lives. And in combination with my reflection this anniversary day, I wonder about the breadth of knowing someone. You know your friends and family in different ways. I knew my childhood best friend in a way that no one else will ever know her. We grew up together and spent countless hours doing nothing at all and at the same time-- everything in the world we could get our hands on. I’ll know my grandparents and parents in their unique ways of being known, of idling and productivity, of baking and cleaning, of sitting and gaming. And I’ll know my present and future friends in other unpredictable ways.
But when I think of the breadth of knowing people, I often think of the chasm that would inhabit me if they left. How would I be different if “so and so” hadn’t been in my life? Married women are notorious for pondering these things about their husbands. But, today riffed on this traditional pattern and started to consider how I would be different, not if they hadn’t left their mark on me, but if I hadn’t let myself be known to them.

To know, and be known. And as I thought about that eventual day when I will be confronted with the loss of my mother, I realized that no one will ever know me in the way she does. And the thought of losing her is not only the thought of her presence and her smile, and her spontaneity (with all its quirks), but it’s the sobering thought of losing who she allows me to be, how she changes me by expecting boundaries to be torn down. In losing someone else, we lose some of ourselves.

So, for me, this anniversary, I am thankful for the years approaching, and the years behind us, where we allow ourselves to be known and to grow in our knowing of each other in those special ways in which we will entrust no one else.

I love you always, dearest husband of mine.

Sweet Irony

2010-07-16T08:19:00.000-07:00

I burned my cookies...

Position Vacancy

2010-07-14T12:41:00.000-07:00

Up until now, it’s been no big deal. Even the paperwork, the essays, the interviews, the countless emails to the Registrar’s Offices and Admissions teams, even the trips (well, trip) to California to visit a school, and, yes, even the acceptance letter and two letters following, granting complete and utter funding for my education. None of it hit home like receiving a “position vacancy” email for my own position while I’m busy doing the exact job in the description.

I’d like to think I handle things like this well, but to be completely honest, at 10:26am as the email arrived in my box, I freaked out a bit and quite literally, Brandon accused me of “being a girl, right now”. I’m a little nervous about all the newness and change in my life recently. We’ve moved in to a new place, and haven’t really seen anybody. And between unpacking and vacation, we’ve been unable to “put our roots down”, so to speak in our new community. And since I started this blog by talking about community, I think I should point out right about here, that moving out of community has challenges of its own, as well.

We’ve been out of regular-church-going for about 5 months now, and my heart aches to be with a consistent community and to submit to a liturgy. But for one reason or another, we are temporary “heathens”, if you will. This is no secret, and my husband and I are working on checking out some churches in our area this Sunday, but until then, we crave. And I do believe that is part of the difficulty. And more than likely, contributed to my melt earlier.

We need each other. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that we don’t like to admit it. Or rather, I don’t. Whether it’s because I think I come off needy, or over-sensitive, or whether it’s just plain pride-- any way you name it, it’s there. And it may carry an extra dose because I’m an extravert, or performer at heart, but I am convinced that we all need community for all the things in our lives that whirl around us without reason—especially as things are changing. I trust my community to be God’s voice of reason and grounding in my life. I trust them to rejoice and struggle with me. And even though this was a momentary shock of reality, a few days out, I’m ready. I’m ready for the world and the plans God is carrying out. I’m ready for the questions and none of the answers. I’m ready for community through people that walk everyday in subjects that don’t matter in some abstract reality, but that change and shape who we are at our core.

So, I’m making cookies tonight. And if I don’t see someone in the hallways-- beware, Kern Hall residents, I’m coming to find you.

An unexpected gift

2010-07-14T12:18:00.000-07:00

I read all day long, so have gotten out of the habit of reading regularly when I go home. I love to read, and so have been picking up some books as of late to prepare to for seminary this coming September. I’m easing into it, you might say. I’m doing a little bit of non-fictional reading, but on vacation this past week, sunk my teeth full-heartedly into The Crystal Cave (by Mary Stewart).

The book’s entrance into my life is perfectly synonymous with its content. It appeared unexpectedly in my mailbox one day from a good old friend, with a note that read, “Found this at an estate sale and thought of you.” That’s it. I turned it over in my hands, feeling the weight of the over 500 pages and smelling the distinct odor paper collecting dust. It was clearly printed in the time when uneven pages were in style, adding to its ancient look. I peeked in the cover to find that it was published in 1970, not nearly as old as its worn blue binding portrayed. But, date or not, it was a gem--an unknown surprise, waiting for that perfect moment when you can find a quiet, solitary place and snuggle up with a cup of something warm to delve into whatever treasure it is storing just for you.

So, that’s precisely what I did. And when I found a moment of peace and secrecy, I peeled back its pages to engulf myself in its world. It was the book I had been waiting for my entire life. And I knew it as soon as my eyes had breached its cover.

It’s one of those stories that starts out simple, yet wraps you in the passing wind of its everydayness. It is of a different land, a different time, and a far-different hero, with a legend much larger than life. But it is the actual life and the story behind the myth that is much juicier than the fable.

If you can find a copy, or want to borrow mine, I’d encourage you to read it. And don’t google its contents. Let it surprise and entrance you some cloudy day, in a corner, sipping your warm something and letting your imagination run wild.
Trust me, it's worth it.

StumbleUpon

2010-06-04T07:48:00.000-07:00

For those of you who are familiar with StumbleUpon, this post will be no surprise to you. If you haven't heard of StumbleUpon, you are living a life of such efficiency that you need this precious waste of time. It is a toolbar for your browser that, essentially, is Pandora for the internet. You set preferences, you like and dislike pages, and your StumbleUpon button continuously provides new and crazy places on the internet that you've never heard of.

I found this today: http://www.incredibox.fr/

And this yesterday: http://chrismckenzie.com/

Now, these are not mind-boggling sites, but what I find most fascinating is that there seems to be an attraction, for me at least, to find what other people have created or find enthralling. And in this sense, it takes me back to the depths of a good epic book, or the memories of the old tv show "Sliders", crossing into developed dimensions. I think I start to realize just how big the world is, and consequently how creative God has made us to be, as I take the opportunity to waste my time perusing other people's developed work. I get lost in the "worlds" of the vast chasm of space, time, and interest of the net. It's discovery, not of land, or treasure, or caves, but people-- into their hearts and thoughts.

Shameless solicitation

2010-04-26T12:07:00.001-07:00

Lately, Hubby and I have been having discussions about working and worth. There is much to be said about how to handle the workplace with intentionality and faithfulness to God's calling in your life. Sometimes, I fear, we don't dialogue about this enough. Spending so much time in one place, it's hard to not see where faith practically meets people.

So, with that, Hubby and I covet your prayers today. He has an interview tomorrow morning downtown. Since a lot of our future together and my schooling depends on him having a stable income, we are praying for opportunities just like this. On the other hand, there have been some warnings about the pay in this job, so we also want to balance this with Hubby's worth as a professional in his field. Pray that if need be, we can faithfully walk away from this. But most of all, pray that God's will be done. I'll keep you posted!

Picture: http://www.bostonherald.com/blogs/sports/rap_sheet/wp-content/uploads/2009/08/work_life.jpg

Chicken dances

2010-04-22T14:28:00.001-07:00

Arrested Development Chicken Dances - Watch more Funny Videos

William James-- what kind of person are you?

2010-04-20T14:29:00.000-07:00

“A great many people think they are thinking when they are merely rearranging their prejudices.” — William James

What do you think of this quote? I'm not sure why William James is important, mostly because I'm not familiar with him. However, in discussion with a friend this morning, I thought this was a very interesting notion. We delved deeper into how some people's personalities seem more apt to conform to specific patterns of thought. We were specifically thinking of theologies, but I think it just might apply plenty of other ways. Outgoing people seem to be bubbly. (Or does their Bubbliness define them as "outgoing")

Anyway, I wondered if any one else has had a similar experience? Do you see patterns in your world of people?

Making cupcakes.

2010-03-26T19:07:00.000-07:00

It will be a sad day when we have to move out and part ways with the Engelhardts. They’ve become family to Thomas and I this past year. We’ve learned a lot, and grown much. I’m beginning to think more and more often of the things that I will miss when we move to a new home. Tonight was a good example.

I will miss them eating all of the crazy kitchen creations, my spur of the moment sugar rushes, and the time devouring them with a nice glass of milk (always thanks to Jamie). 

Cupcakes are an easy thing to make. They really don’t take a whole lot of effort. It seems, for me anyway, that the big hurdle is committing to getting it done. The Mr. loves sweets, so it’s never (nor will it probably ever be) hard to convince him to go along with my whimsical wishes. Though, when you think of cupcakes, you think of the time, the energy, all the ingredients that you may or may not have (I keep our kitchen well stocked with the essentials ), and the mess afterwards. But tonight, in about 30 minutes, I had cupcakes in the oven.

We were sitting at the kitchen table after a wonderful meal, and I had a hankering. “So…would anyone like cupcakes?”
“Like…stat?!?”, said Jamie.

And it was at that moment that we had a choice. It’s the point in the conversation where no one has spoken, and you are all still deciding whether it’s pure ridiculousness, or crazy enough that it might just be amazing.

I will miss them agreeing to ridiculous mini-house adventures at the drop of a pin.

It was a collaborative decision. We had to trust that we were doing it together. I’m sure not eating 30 cupcakes by myself! There is something to be said about taking a leap, jumping off the ledge, and diving in. Today at the Judson University chapel, we had a speaker who spoke about the differences between being a ‘peace-maker’ and ‘keeping the peace’. And it all boiled down to making the step—committing to the task. Are you willing to commit to people? Even in the moments when something that needs to be said will hurt, either you or them, or your friendship? Will you, effectively, fight for peace? Or would you rather smooth things over and just keep the peace?

Now, I think we all still have a long way to go on this, but…

I will miss the trust and commitment to Christ that beckons us to fight for peace, even when the outcome is murky.

And as we all sat around eating cupcakes (with milk), I think all of these things that I will miss, made that moment just that much sweeter.

(Pictures by the o, so talented, Jamie Engelhardt)

Everyday

2010-03-22T13:49:00.001-07:00

It's in the everyday moments that you get to know someone.

Thank you, Erin, for your inspiring quote today:
"I lika...a do...the cha-cha."

Against our hearts

2010-03-22T12:47:00.000-07:00

Exclusions

Her excuse was an exclusion.
Her enemy, her heart.
She burdened not her mercy,
But tore apart the art.
Natural reactions of emotion
Were treated as a sin
And compassion never ruled her heart,
only logic was let in.

To identify the target,
there lay a careful set of rules
Some guidelines here,
some pinpoints there,
eyes snaring certain fools.

But with an eye for certain doom,
All she saw was grim and bare,
And when suddenly her heart lurched out,
There were no more gridlines there.
She fought, she denied.
Her mind nullified,
but her heart could not compare.

Compassion, mercy,
woes to feed,
no solace was found there.
What hopes,
what fears were in the world!
What heart, and needs to feel!
Living through her guidelines discounts such grace
in desperate need for repeal.

Rose colored glasses
have a glance of hope.
They revel in wonders
that the majesty provokes.
We can seek compassion, justice,
and mercy from above
but only in deciding
that lines are moveable by love.
If we think we have it right,
but our heart still becons wrong,
what have we done? Where are we now,
that those who have not lines,
can be the change our rules so bear?

-----------------

Have you ever let what you believe get in the way of what you know is right?
Have you ever seen beauty, but argued against it with logic?

St. Patrick's Day

2010-03-17T14:49:00.000-07:00

It's quite a unique holiday if you think about it.
Our librarian at the University dresses, literally, from head (wig) to toe, sporting his Irish pride. My in-laws take the day off to march in a parade, eat only Irish dishes, and play cds of fiddles, whistles, and boudrans. And then there are those who forget it even exists. These are the people that forget to wear green. These are the people that are pinched. No other holiday like it that I can think of.

In celebration of St. Patrick and his home culture (despite the fact that they kicked him out of his own country), enjoy this video.

(*Interesting fact: In American Tap dancing, the goal is to look fluid, to have your whole body express the sounds of your feet. In clogging, the better you are, the less your shoulders will move. Shoulders are the indicators that policeman use to see if you're moving in your car-- they tell all. So, it's a strong and practiced art to control them. Watch how their shoulders in this video are immovable! It's wonderful.)

Social Media- fad or fiction?

2010-03-16T14:54:00.000-07:00

What do you think? Do you agree? Disagree?
What does this mean for relationships?

Snow

2010-02-15T07:20:00.001-08:00

Snow, ya know?
What’s the deal?
comes and goes and
goes and comes.
No need for announcement,
hard as we try.
No need for excuses,
“it just shouldn’t be dry”
says a snow flake to a
hearty soul.

“Then, how
do you suppose I am
to act
just like a snow flake
around, out back?
Are we to fall wherever we land?
Or does our authority stand?
What hospitality fails or drives
whether friend or foe,
steadfast or contrived?
If we were all snow flakes,
wouldn’t it be true,
that the places and postings,
the cares and regrets,
would nonexistent be
through a storm of torrent.”

News, news, news

2010-01-28T19:59:00.000-08:00

I must exclaim to the world (or in reality, the two who will read this...) my wonderful news! There's a lot that has been happening in my life, and, well, you deserve an update:

#1- I was offered a position in the MA in Pastoral Theology at the University of London.
#2- I was accepted into Northern Baptist Theological Seminary!

...now I must choose...

#3- (And what I will spend the rest of the post talking about) I was SUPER successful on my Jewel mission today!
Exhibit A:

This is my receipt. Essentially, it says that I paid $14.88 for $40.98 worth of stuff. I have been following some coupon blogs and trying deals here and there, but my first non-fool-proof mission is complete and successful!

I did a Fav4 deal, where I got 4 packages of meat for $3.55. I took advantage of Jewel's Quaker sale, paying $3.95 for the Quaker cereals & granola bars. And finally, The four post cereals, saving a mere $4.96. (I wouldn't have bought these, except that its a better deal than Aldi has for the knock-off brand of the cereals that we really like. And we go through a ton of cereal.)

Here's my loot! (A true picture, like a true coupon blogger!)

What's even more fun, is that I met a woman in the meat section who was doing the exact same thing I was. (I could tell by the way she was looking at the prices.) It looked like she knew what she was doing. And upon introductions, I was right-- seasoned Super Couponer. And she was there using the hints from the same blog I subscribe to!! Funny how the internet/blogging world is bringing people (that would never have met before) together in the physical. A thought to ponder-- perhaps this cyber-world won't completely destroy face-to-face relationships after all...

Haiti quake

2010-01-13T13:17:00.001-08:00

If you are looking for items of prayer, I invite you to add the country of Haiti, its people, its leaders, and all those who have committed to helping them in their time of need, to your list.

Personally, we have family members who have been in ministry for over 20 years near Cap Haitian (north), who were, thankfully, not harmed in the quake. They have 6 students near the hospital that fell in Port au Prince, however. If you want to pray for individuals, please pray for these 6 students. See more here.

Lord, in your mercy, hear our prayers.

Next up...

2010-01-12T08:11:00.000-08:00

Starting next week, I'll be reading and, hopefully, writing in preparation for Grad School. Which one? Still unknown.
I'm looking for reading suggestions. Have one?

Epiphany

2010-01-05T15:01:00.000-08:00

I was reading another blog today. As we prepare for Epiphany tomorrow (or tonight for some) they had posted T.S. Elliot’s Journey of the Magi. I’ve copied it here.

It’s worth the read.

A cold coming we had of it,
Just the worst time of the year
For a journey, and such a journey:
The ways deep and the weather sharp,
The very dead of winter.’
And the camels galled, sore-footed, refractory,
Lying down in the melting snow.
There were times we regretted
The summer palaces on slopes, the terraces,
And the silken girls bringing sherbet.

Then the camel men cursing and grumbling
And running away, and wanting their liquor and women,
And the night-fires going out, and the lack of shelters,
And the cities hostile and the towns unfriendly
And the villages dirty and charging high prices:
A hard time we had of it.
At the end we preferred to travel all night,
Sleeping in snatches,
With the voices in our ears, saying
That this was all folly.

Then at dawn we came down to a temperate valley,
Wet, below the snow line, smelling of vegetation;
With a running stream and a water-mill beating the darkness,
And three trees on the low sky,
And an old white horse galloped away in the meadow.
Then we came to a tavern with vine-leaves over the lintel,
Six hands at an open door dicing for pieces of silver,
And feet kicking the empty wine-skins.
But there was no information, and so we continued
And arrived at evening, not a moment too soon
Finding the place; it was (you may say) satisfactory.

All this was a long time ago, I remember,
And I would do it again, but set down
This set down
This: were we led all that way for
Birth or Death? There was a Birth, certainly,
We had evidence and no doubt. I had seen birth and death,
But had thought they were different; this Birth was
Hard and bitter agony for us, like Death, our death.
We returned to our places, these Kingdoms,
But no longer at ease here, in the old dispensation,
With an alien people clutching their gods.
I should be glad of another death.

What is the significance to our Epiphany observance? How does this story inform us? Change us?

In our church, we have a strong African American presence. It has become our tradition to celebrate February as African American History Month. To some, this seems quite strange. To me, it seemed quite strange when I first started serving in our Worship ministries. Though, as it were, the practice often began in January, overlapping both Epiphany and Lent. Now Epiphany has so many variations of celebration, from one day to weeks, each of which have their own implications and significance. And normally, this time between Christmas (remember, we’re not finished celebrating! One more day!) and Lent was utilized for “new direction” and “This Year’s focus” for churches. Yet, if we interrupt the celebration of Christ’s birth, a signal of everlasting change to our world, with the modicum passing of another measurement of time, I fear we send mix messages. Would it not be suitable to pull out the kazoos and party hats right before we enter into Advent? Maybe as churches wrap up the Ordinary Season, with a synopsis of the past year and a clear direction for the next one (therefore emphasizing the need for a solid start—Advent), the New Year that we celebrate could be transformed into a time to reflect on the implications of “the world” (or representations—Magi) finding Jesus, and Jesus expanding his kingdom beyond the “chosen” or Jews, and redefining history, once again to welcome all nations, tribes and tongues.
This is a time we celebrate Christ for all nations. If you are a multi-ethnic church, consider making this part of your liturgical calendar and use the gifts and experiences of those in your congregation.

Graduate Entrance Essay

2009-12-10T15:26:00.000-08:00

I've been hard at work applying to grad schools over the past few months. An exciting and scary process. Thought I'd share a little bit of my aspirations and calling. The following is my "Autobiographical statement" for entrance into the University of London. Any and all feedback is MUCH appreciated! :)

I have taken my studies of Worship and the Arts with me around the globe and back, stretching my understanding of how God forms and shapes Churches and their practices. Whether listening to the sounds of the Lenten removal sitting in Sydney’s St. James Church on Maundy Thursday, or feeling the wind across my face at the outdoor service of my home church near Chicago, I am awe-filled by the presence of God through gathered community. My experiences in any given community are deepened when, like a fine wine, I understand their histories, and choices—the heart. Yet, I can never be both the observer and participant without giving up partial rights to one. I seek only to combine them as seamlessly as possible. As a participant, I find myself amidst the story and body of Christ-a worshipper fascinated by the revelation of word, sacrament, and relationship. As an observer, I have understood rituals and symbols, and see how small things, as part of a larger framework, impact and shape communities. The role of a Liturgist, faithfully examining both positions, helps bridge this divide to inform and correlate our theology through words, speech, and action. As an undergraduate student studying worship, theology, and the arts, I have experienced the importance in providing such a bridge within our practicing communities. My experience as a worship director of an ethnically and culturally diverse church for four years has demonstrated how difficult inculturation is navigated without proper preparation.
Pope Paul VI once said, “Liturgy is like a strong tree whose beauty is derived from the continuous renewal of its leaves, but whose strength comes from the old trunk, with solid roots in the ground.” How do we transform a meal of memory into meaning, from congregant’s mere presence into experience or understanding? We cannot. We can only provide the solid pedigree from which congregants can draw the nutrition of their theology. In turn, they let God’s radiant light renew their lives down to its common roots. And just as a botanist desires to examine the interworking and intricacies of creation, so do I desire to examine and understand the meaning, role, and pattern of liturgy among the body of Christ in history and the contemporary.
Originally, I had a desire to enter the Master of Arts program in Pastoral Liturgy before its cancellation. But just as a vine cannot be separated from the branch, I embrace the incorporation of theological and pastoral emphasis as preparation to serve in a body of believers. Dr. Cameron-Mowat’s work is in theology and liturgy as it relates, impacts and is changed by the contemporary world. With my interest in liturgy, his study presents a unique opportunity to edify my education at the University of London. I propose to guide my dissertation and course preferences to highlight the liturgical aspects of the Master of Arts in Pastoral Theology degree as a full-time student over the course of one full year.

ICU

2009-09-30T07:43:00.000-07:00

The day and the night have such different figures. They are scarcely similar aside from the objects they encompass and the light they reflect. Despite the same actors, the play is interpreted distinctly. This change and dramatic shift is something I find fascinating. When we find ourselves in situations outside of our normal functioning, I often realize that too much change can make my mind find alternate solutions. In a most recent case, I was in an ICU room with one of the most important people in my life lying in the bed, as I just waited. Afterwards, I jotted some thoughts down. They are here, presented with the moment-by-moment emotion as they whizzed through my mind.

Here you are, alone, it seems, in the ICU. She lays on the bed without speaking, without blinking--asleep, hopefully. You watch the rise and fall of her chest, thanking God for each movement. And after a while of sitting, you start watching the other things in the room. All of a sudden, the wallpaper flourishes have never seemed so interesting. You follow the swirls with your eyes, outlining them, as if you were a carpenter. You study everything about the room, like you you’ve never seen it before. The clips and boards, the doors and hinges. They all become known to you. They are familiar friends, snuck in unbeknownst to the cameras and attendants. You take note of the slightest things—the weather, the grain in the wallpaper, and of course the tiny details of change in her. You see the slightest expressions as she sleeps. Pain? Confusion? Was that a smile? Her face looks better today, if only by a slight pink that is creeping its way back. Her tubes still seem to be constraining, and yet, they have become a little bit easier to see, and hopefully for her to feel. Her hands still feel cold. And though the doctor says that’s good, you wish she could just give you a squeeze back. Alas, you settle for dialoging with the sounds and sights of the room as your partner for the day.

You plead the monitors with your eyes, willing them to decode themselves and speak words, keeping you moment-by-moment, living with her. Lines and jumps and numbers galore, all in codes and acronyms, meaningful only to the ones who have the key. They are constantly-changing pieces in her puzzle of recovery. Up and down they go, solid and void. Then you flinch against your concentration as the piercing beeping arises, followed by little flashing lights. And as no one comes, your heart begins to race. Looking from her to the monitor and back again, without any indication of relief, the Beep! beep! beep! barrages you. The cords, multi-colored fluids and medicines dangle tangled in and out of the rods, barricading her in, winding maliciously into the arms of your loved one. And after what seems like hours, someone walks in, reassures the machine and continues on their day, leaving you as an audience member of the unfolding drama.

You make best friends with others in the ICU, like kin in a hospital family. You share and talk as if you’ve known each other for years. And when you just can’t sit any longer with no information, just staring at the machines who refuse to speak, there is comfort in the walk to your brother’s room, in the “How is it today?” and the idle conversation, showing the humanity that the nerves have hidden away. The little things unite us all. You trust the nurse with the Packer’s scrubs, telling her you’ll watch the game and keep her updated throughout the day. The game plays in a few rooms and you feel the consent to raise an arm to share the victory of the most recent point with the man across the hall. What simple and yet completely complex things bring us together.

2009-04-13T06:00:00.001-07:00

Every once in a while the tiny thread of artistry that is held in the linear thoughts of my family peeks its way through.

Mom, what a beautiful poem. Thank you.

Resurrection Poem

My heart is so heavy, this long night awearying,
Darkness and hollowness, pain, what it sees.
The loss of my Savior, my love, my dear friend
Seems all to be hovering, pressing over me.
Having seen Your afflictions, trials, tribulations
The punishments laid on Your back that was bare,
I scarcely believe, can’t conceive, would reject
That those tortures, those lashes, were some I’d put there.
You know, Lord, I love you. You know where I stand.
You also know deeply the sorrow I bring.
As true as my heart seems, it’s frail, unworthy.
It knows but a fraction the truth it should ring.
For though, Lord, I love you and know Your heart true,
My broken and meek heart can’t do without You.

The only redemption, the comfort availed
By the unrighteous acts of this night filled with black
Is that You, ‘fore creation, have laid out this plan.
By Your sacrifice, all of men’s hearts to buy back.
Amazing, incredible, Love without end,
Beyond comprehension of my feeble mind
The menial price I must pay in return
Is surrendering sin, that corrupts and leaves blind
The heart that You gave me to worship and praise.
So simple a task, to receive Your release
From the bondage that binds, keeps my heart from Your work
To just give it to You, and gain Your perfect Peace.
Your willing death washes my sins all away
To birth, bright and glorious, my heart’s Easter Day!

4-12-09
Dawn M. Jacobs

Let them be shamed. Aha!

2009-03-12T12:38:00.000-07:00

So, I was reading Psalm 70 this morning. And came across this verse.

"Let them turn back because of their shame who say, 'Aha, Aha!' " (Psalm 70: 3 ESV)

Can't you just picture a man from the time of David saying, "Aha, Aha!"

And then they wrote about it in a song.

I wish we had songs like this....

Dead Man Walking

2009-03-09T10:38:00.000-07:00

I’ve never been one to really “attach” myself to my possessions. We live pretty simply. I was lucky enough to have both parents, while not the perfect example in every area, as very fervent servants. My mom was the first to sign up to make someone a meal, and she’ll be the first to offer you anything she has (chances are she has two or three of them anyway). My Dad was a mechanic and all-around handy-man. He’s worked in warehouses, mechanic shops, and farms of all kinds—he knows the value of a good set of hands and a hard-worker. He was always willing to stop in the middle of the country to help someone with their car, or go join another farmer for a day to finish the crop, or help any random stranger with whatever tools he had. I have always admired that about them both. They have such giving hearts. They pour out themselves for whoever they encounter that has a need.

This Sunday, we took advantage of our “celebration” time from our television fast with ECC in the Lenten season and watched a movie. Having no luck finding “Lord of the Rings” from some of our apartment neighbors, we took the suggestion of an older (1995) Southern drama dealing with the death-penalty. (A far cry from Lord of the Rings, to say the least.) Never having an opinion on the death-penalty, mostly from lack of want or effort in research, I was hesitant. Come to find out, the movie was not so much about the political death-penalty discussion as it was about the consideration for salvation, life, and the love of God. A nun, under plenty persecution, counsels an inmate on death-row, showing him the love of God as no other person has. I found this movie tackling some serious prejudices. We want to help the people who are most appeasing to help, to love. It makes us feel good about ourselves when it is easy, when the people we love are grateful. This opened my eyes to the ways in which love can overcome the power of hatred. Love can break down walls of people who do awful things, who are sick in ways that we don’t want to heal, but block out of our minds. This movie deals with the poor of a different sort. All in all—great movie! I’d highly recommend it.

However, God spoke even more to me through this movie. One of the things I am trying to get a grip on this lent is an understanding of the poor, oppressed, and broken. Some days I have felt as if I were a part of those people, and some days I know I’m the furthest thing from it. I was listening to a sermon online about Jesus’ trip to Jerusalem. A trip that could take 3 weeks, but that he made into 3 months. He went purposely through a land that was known for a despised people group. (It sort of reminded me of this Nun that purposely went to visit this man on death row.) To be their light. To preach. To serve. He talks about Mary and Martha and the scolding of Martha in the kitchen (whom I have always felt myself akin to…I’m pretty sure I would be Martha in this story. In fact, I’m sure I have been Martha at some point.) He talks about the Good Samaritan. And then he gets to this passage: “Your life does not consist in the abundance of your possessions” –(Luke 12:15)
He’s relating the things that should be in our focus rather than the things that are in our focus, some of which is his congregation’s concern as we head into and are submersed in this downturned economy. And this pastor fully addresses the concerns of the apparent 230 (of the expected 90) people who showed up to a “job-transition” group the previous week. All looking for help. All with no jobs. He says --(to the entire congregation, not just the 230) --“some of you will have to give up your homes. Some of you will have to give up your cars. Some of you have already had them taken. And maybe you’ll have to move in with your brother, or in your friend’s basement. And is that really so bad?”

I just found that God was speaking directly to me in those moments. That all this talk about “living with other people” was a brick work laid for the way I can learn this Lenten season. And while I have always loved to give freely of what I have, there are some things that I keep tucked away. There are some things that, if asked, I would say “No, I’m sorry, I cannot share. This is mine.”
And I realized today that even those are not mine. My possessions do not define me. My associations do not define me. My job is does not define me. My interests or the things that I excel at do not define me. Christ defines me. And he defines me as a child of God, first and foremost.

I’ve been mulling over this story from Henri Nouwen for a couple months, so excuse me if you’ve heard it before. It’s just been caught in my head and will come up at random moments throughout my day. I think of it weekly, but it culminated today. Henri Nouwen tells of when he first walked in to the Dayspring Community (a community of people with physical and mental challenges). They did not know him, could not respect him for all he had accomplished. They did not know him as the professor of an Ivy League School, nor as a published author of great proportions. They knew him only as a man. A man who had come to join their community and serve in the ways in which they needed his aid. Just as a man. And it all depended on him just giving, just serving in the ways he was needed. In laying aside the pride of being defined as a certain person and just being the hands and feet. Selfless.
I can often hear the echoes of pastors who have said that God can see past our sins. But sometimes, I need to know that God can see past our accomplishments. (And maybe sometimes they are one and the same.)

And I’ve never thought of myself as extremely selfish, hoarding possessions, or finding my identity in them. And I’ve never thought of myself as the person who is “works-driven”. Those words have always thrown articulate photos in my mind of people inundated with stuff, wealth, and overcome with the need to rise to the top of the ladder. Those Pharisees. And yet, I find that I have those tendencies of my own-- that I don’t have to be the epitome of that particular sin, to be caught in its web. I should insert a little picture of me every time I think of those things.

And I think that’s what scares me when I think about giving it all. Possibly living with other people and putting everything, EVERYTHING, aside to serve. These people know me, will be in my space, in my things (which for some reason I call my own), and I cannot hide. I have to love always, not just pick and choose the people, or at the times I want to. These people will know me. The real me, selfish moments and all. And I think that is my biggest hurdle. Am I willing to serve with all that I have and purposely practice and hone this discipline of unconditional love?

But wait, aren't I supposed to be doing that with everyone anyway? I feel like this is a great "baby-step" to really, fully putting this into practice.

So, I’m a little scared,

but I’m willing.

It seems like Bill Engvall walked into my life today and said,
“Here is your sign.”
Today was mine.

I’m in.

A discussion

2009-02-16T15:04:00.000-08:00

Alright. Here I go.

We’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately. What are our dreams, aspirations, and goals for our life? What are the things God has called us to do? Who has he called us to be? How are we to use our gifts together, as husband and wife? How do we live out the church? Very theoretical. Very me. My husband is much more practical. Where has He called us to live? How has He called us to use our money? How do I practice Godly Architecture and service? How do we save for the future, go to school, pay off debt, while we live within our means? Very financial. Very Him.

It has lead to a discussion of out-of-the-box (or just norm) ideas. One of these—communal living. Thomas does have a few theoretical bones in his body. One of those (maybe the funny bone) speaks to the individual push on our society in America. He sees it through “urban sprawl” and other architectural-y terms. He sees the detriment of people having their own space and cutting others off. He sees the benefit of people living in cities, in community. We see it in the bible, too. In the way Jesus lived, in the way He called us to help each other, provide and support one another.

In communal living, like say 2 or 3 couples living in the same house, we have the opportunity to die to ourselves and serve…in much closer ways. It’s like forced sacrifice. Chosen-forced-sacrifice. Say, similar to a Spiritual Discipline.

So what do you think? Good, bad, ugly? And is “ugly” bad or growing?
I, personally, think it would be crazy-fun! I think my mother would think it was just plain crazy.

Let’s talk about it.
Whether it be spiritual, relational (general, spousal, and interpersonal), or financial pros and cons.

Shoot.
I’ll input, too.

Creating a blog

2009-01-16T12:17:00.000-08:00

Hello out there!
Yoodle-eh-ee-ooo!
I have officially joined the world of blogging. And not for any particularly scholarly or prestigeous reason. I felt no need to let the world into the thoughts of my day.

Honestly, I need some practice.

I am part of a group that is encouraged to blog. I have read other's blogs. And well, it seems like a discipline. So, here I am.