Good googly moogly. I just got off the phone with one of the profs in the Spanish department at Wash U. He left a message earlier, asking me to return his call and leave a message of when would be a good time for him to call back. I did, and he called back this evening. He basically wanted to get a sense of my goals, why my interest is in Wash U and the Spanish program, my experience teaching Spanish, my experience learning Spanish, and my proficiency in Spanish.
Grrr . . . I always insecurely teeter between eagerness and bare-bones straightforwardness. I don't want to gush, but I don't want to seem stiff either. (sigh) I tried to be myself, I guess. I don't know why I always exit these sizing-up-by-a-superior experiences deflated and teary. I felt like my Spanish was sub-par when we spoke for a while in Spanish. He got the vibe that I'm interested in the Applied Linguistics, language-learning aspect of Spanish (which I am, from the bit of research that I've done, and in which he specializes) and "warned" me that the program at Wash U is highly literature-based. I'm unsure if I got across the point that I do want further grounding in expanding my knowledge of the literature aspect of it as well, since one of my goals is to teach at the university level.
Okay, I'm reading over this, and perhaps I need to just chill. The application deadline was the 15th and I get a call not even 2 weeks later. Usually, that's a good sign, right? The thing is that I don't know whether the interview is routine, as in, they interview every applicant and then make their decisions based on the application and interview combined, or if they narrow the field based on the applications and then kind of fine tune their choices with the interview. Also, I don't know if this particular professor called me because he's the "call applicants" guy or because I specifically mentioned him in my statement of purpose since his research area is similiar to my interests.
Okay. My worry session is over. It's in God's hands, and I have to trust and be confident in that.
Saturday, January 27, 2007
Friday, January 26, 2007
I Like This Kid
3rd graders ask the most random questions.At the beginning of class one freckle-faced little boy raised his hand and said, "This question doesn't have anything to do with Spanish, but why are girls smarter than boys?"
I said, "Umm, well, girls aren't smarter than boys, nor are boys smarter than girls. It's just that girls are better at some things than boys and boys are better at some things than girls. But it doesn't mean that either is smarter."
Not quite satisfied with my answer, he asked, "Well, if girls aren't smarter, then why are most teachers women?"
I just laughed. I told him, "Promise me that when you get to college, you will write a research paper on that, okay?"
He said that he would. This kid is onto something, no?
Thursday, January 25, 2007
Sixth Sense?
I used to always joke around with my roommate in college that I had a sixth sense. It used to annoy her so much. I’m not sure why. I guess because she knew that I was doing it to annoy her. lol. (Mat, if you reading this girl, you know I love you. We pick on those we love, right?) Anyway, I don’t think I have a true sixth sense, a la “I see dead people,” but it seems that I can always sniff out when the most unsuitable person is going to try to get his swerve on. It’s like I have this unmistakable inkling, so when it happens, I’m not completely flabbergasted, in spite of the utter . . . impossibility of the matter, because my “sixth sense” was warning me.
Honestly, I really don’t mean to sound like this haughty little princess, like, “How dare he ask me out!” But please, please believe me, that if you knew, you’d agree. I am so serious. I can’t even fathom what old dude was thinking. (And ‘old,’ in this case, is also quite literal.) You don’t just try to jump back, haphazardly, newly dumped, with the possibly-still-attached dumper still around, the dumper being someone yours truly associates with frequently. No, no, no. That doesn’t even remotely make sense.
And then me? Why me? I just flat out said, “No, I’m sorry.” Okay, for the record, I do feel badly. I mean, I know it takes a lot for guys to stick their necks out like that, and rejection feels awful. I’m not making light of that. I know that loneliness is real and it’s tough, and may make people consider things they would never have considered otherwise. But it makes me reflect . . . it’s like, it can’t be me. It’s just the fact that I’m there and I’m single. That has to be it. I mean, our church is on the small side, and the pickings are indeed slim, I mean, if you looked at church as a harvest field of available men and women, that is. But that doesn’t mean you should just put yourself out there unthinkingly.
I also feel kind of weird because I’m like, God, why the impossibles? Why the not-even-for-a-millisecond considerations? It makes me feel like, is that all I attract? Sheesh. And here am I, ponderer of inclinations toward older guys, while one just pops out of nowhere that is utterly no-no. Oh, the irony.
Honestly, I really don’t mean to sound like this haughty little princess, like, “How dare he ask me out!” But please, please believe me, that if you knew, you’d agree. I am so serious. I can’t even fathom what old dude was thinking. (And ‘old,’ in this case, is also quite literal.) You don’t just try to jump back, haphazardly, newly dumped, with the possibly-still-attached dumper still around, the dumper being someone yours truly associates with frequently. No, no, no. That doesn’t even remotely make sense.
And then me? Why me? I just flat out said, “No, I’m sorry.” Okay, for the record, I do feel badly. I mean, I know it takes a lot for guys to stick their necks out like that, and rejection feels awful. I’m not making light of that. I know that loneliness is real and it’s tough, and may make people consider things they would never have considered otherwise. But it makes me reflect . . . it’s like, it can’t be me. It’s just the fact that I’m there and I’m single. That has to be it. I mean, our church is on the small side, and the pickings are indeed slim, I mean, if you looked at church as a harvest field of available men and women, that is. But that doesn’t mean you should just put yourself out there unthinkingly.
I also feel kind of weird because I’m like, God, why the impossibles? Why the not-even-for-a-millisecond considerations? It makes me feel like, is that all I attract? Sheesh. And here am I, ponderer of inclinations toward older guys, while one just pops out of nowhere that is utterly no-no. Oh, the irony.
Monday, January 22, 2007
Classical Craving
This past weekend, I had a sudden and overwhelming craving to hear classical music. Particularly piano. Maybe it's because I've been such a bum with practicing, (backstory: I took piano for 3 years in high school and quit once I graduated) and I, on a whim, tried to come back with a Kuhlau sonatina and part of Rachmaninoff's Prelude in C# minor (I was never able to master the whole thing). For the record, it sounded awful.I don't consider myself a classical music buff in the least bit. I know my knowledge of pieces, composers, etc. is cursory at best, but there was this . . . thing in me that woke up with me Saturday morning that wouldn't leave me in peace until I got my hands on some classical piano music. I needed to hear it, especially the Rachmaninoff. I yearned for Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata. I wanted to hear Tchaikovsky’s Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy tiptoeing through my mind because it makes me think of Christmas even though Christmas is over. So, what did I do? I trucked it over to FYE and made off like a bandit. I got a 4 CD set of piano classics (Rachmaninoff included) for $9.99. I got Vivaldi's Four Seasons for like $5.99, and I got a CD of 20 classical favorites for like $7.99. And while I was at it, there was one of those calendar kiosks right outside of FYE, and I really needed a calendar (trying to think in January 2007 terms while a December 2006 calendar is silently staring you in the face is so unnerving), and I got a Van Gogh calendar for 75% off. Yeah, baby. This month is Starry Night. A good sign? I'd like to think so.
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
ApTube 2007
This is the voice crying in the blogosphere saying, "Prepare ye the way for the creative juice flow!"
This is phenomenal, this is groundbreaking, this is territory where no webzine has tread before. What is this? It is ApTube 2007.
Ninetyandnine is hosting a contest for creative, original video content. And yes, a monetary prize is in the mix. So, before you upload to YouTube, consider channeling those creative juices into ApTube. Check here for details.
Awww, yeah. I can feel the creative juices rising up in you now, threatening to overflow. So, go ahead, you Steven Spielberg in the making, you. (And perhaps score some cash and fame in the process!)
This is phenomenal, this is groundbreaking, this is territory where no webzine has tread before. What is this? It is ApTube 2007.
Ninetyandnine is hosting a contest for creative, original video content. And yes, a monetary prize is in the mix. So, before you upload to YouTube, consider channeling those creative juices into ApTube. Check here for details.
Awww, yeah. I can feel the creative juices rising up in you now, threatening to overflow. So, go ahead, you Steven Spielberg in the making, you. (And perhaps score some cash and fame in the process!)
Happy Birthday to You, Dr. King
This time, the 3rd Monday in January is on the actual birthday of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. He was born January 15, 1929 and was assassinated on April 4, 1968.I didn't know until recently that MLK day wasn't observed as a national holiday until 1986 (I guess I was a little oblivious since I would have been only 4 at the time). For some reason, I thought it became a commemorated day like right after he died. However, he became the first Black American honored by a national holiday.
Anyway, it goes without saying that the man was brilliant and courageous and that without him, I don't know where we'd be. It scares me to wonder about the world without him. God used him so mightily. Every MLK Day, my family and I watch an old black and white documentary called King: Montgomery to Memphis. Every single time I hear his voice, his speeches laced with so much conviction, I get goosebumps. Thank you, Dr. King. Like the apostles in Acts, you turned the world upside down.
"I believe that unarmed truth and unconditional love will have the final word in reality. That is why right, temporarily defeated, is stronger than evil triumphant."
--Martin Luther King Jr., Accepting Nobel Peace Prize, Dec. 10, 1964
Monday, January 15, 2007
My Theological Rant of the Day, Part II
Part I, for your convenience.
Pentecostal Idol
Many times, Evangelicals in general (not just Pentecostals) sort of eschew Catholic tradition because of all of the liturgy, ritual, icons, and “worship” of people we don’t consider divine; in fact, some would even call it idolatry. However, it was pointed out to me quite eloquently by a guest speaker at church last night that Pentecostals have an idol of their own. Speaking in tongues. We have made tongues our idol. Before any feathers get ruffled up, let me backtrack for a second.
In Defense of Tongues
As a professing practitioner of glossolalia (the scientific term for ‘speaking in tongues’), let me just lay some groundwork.
In the Bible, tongues first appeared in Acts 2 when the Holy Ghost was poured out for the very first time on the day of Pentecost. At that time, it was a Jewish thing. In fact, the converted Jews didn't even believe non-Jews could receive the Holy Ghost until it was poured out upon the Gentiles for the first time in Acts 10. In the middle of Peter’s preaching to a group of Gentiles, the Holy Ghost fell. Acts 10:45 and part of 46 says, “And they of the circumcision (Jews) which believed were astonished, as many as came with Peter, because that on the Gentiles also was poured out the gift of the Holy Ghost. For they heard them speak with tongues and magnify God.” So, why were the Jews so surprised? Because they realized this Holy Ghost thing was not “Jews only.” How did they know the Gentiles were receiving the Holy Ghost? Because, according to scripture, they heard them speak with tongues and magnify God. To me, this scripture is important because this is another confirmation (the first being on the day of Pentecost) that speaking in tongues is a sign that one has received the Holy Ghost.
So, in sum, I believe that tongues is the initial sign that someone has received the Holy Ghost. And I believe that the Holy Ghost is the Spirit (capital ‘S’) that Jesus referred to in John 3:5. And as an aside, speaking in tongues is one of the most awesome spiritual experiences in the world. Can you truly knock what you’ve never experienced? But read the first sentence of this paragraph again. I said that speaking in tongues is a sign that one has received the Spirit. I did not say that it is the Spirit. And therein lies the source of my rant.
Speaking in tongues DOES NOT = The Holy Ghost
So many, many times, my A/P (Apostolic/Pentecostal) brothers and sisters focus too fervently on the phenomenon of speaking in tongues. We extol it as Catholics extol Mary (and for the record, Catholics do not officially “worship” her). Especially when it comes to people who are new converts and are new to the Holy Ghost thing. We want to pat them on the back and proclaim, “They got it!” if we hear any utterance resembling gibberish come out of their mouths. On the positive side, perhaps getting excited about “getting it” builds peoples’ faith. But on the negative, it may make people feel rushed and pushed into something, and perhaps we get ourselves into the sticky situation of proclaiming over someone what they themselves have not claimed to have experienced. So, back up, brothers and sisters. Let people breathe. Allow people to know that they know for themselves.
Doesn’t the scripture also say that “the fruit of the Spirit (capital ‘S’) is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, and temperance” (Gal 5:22-23)? Doesn’t Jesus say in Matthew 7:20 that “by their fruits ye shall know them”? So, as far as I’m concerned, you can run around spouting “heavenly language” 24/7 and still not “have it.” If you aren’t bearing the fruit of the Spirit in your life, what’s the use? What good is tearfully belting out monosyllables at altar call and then being a miserable, impatient, self-serving person who wouldn’t know the love of Jesus if it slapped you in the face when it’s all said and done?
Okay, enough with the ridiculous rhetorical questions. lol. All I’m saying is that tongues is a sign. But it isn’t the only sign. And it most certainly shouldn’t be conflated with the Spirit itself.
Pentecostal Idol
Many times, Evangelicals in general (not just Pentecostals) sort of eschew Catholic tradition because of all of the liturgy, ritual, icons, and “worship” of people we don’t consider divine; in fact, some would even call it idolatry. However, it was pointed out to me quite eloquently by a guest speaker at church last night that Pentecostals have an idol of their own. Speaking in tongues. We have made tongues our idol. Before any feathers get ruffled up, let me backtrack for a second.
In Defense of Tongues
As a professing practitioner of glossolalia (the scientific term for ‘speaking in tongues’), let me just lay some groundwork.
In the Bible, tongues first appeared in Acts 2 when the Holy Ghost was poured out for the very first time on the day of Pentecost. At that time, it was a Jewish thing. In fact, the converted Jews didn't even believe non-Jews could receive the Holy Ghost until it was poured out upon the Gentiles for the first time in Acts 10. In the middle of Peter’s preaching to a group of Gentiles, the Holy Ghost fell. Acts 10:45 and part of 46 says, “And they of the circumcision (Jews) which believed were astonished, as many as came with Peter, because that on the Gentiles also was poured out the gift of the Holy Ghost. For they heard them speak with tongues and magnify God.” So, why were the Jews so surprised? Because they realized this Holy Ghost thing was not “Jews only.” How did they know the Gentiles were receiving the Holy Ghost? Because, according to scripture, they heard them speak with tongues and magnify God. To me, this scripture is important because this is another confirmation (the first being on the day of Pentecost) that speaking in tongues is a sign that one has received the Holy Ghost.
So, in sum, I believe that tongues is the initial sign that someone has received the Holy Ghost. And I believe that the Holy Ghost is the Spirit (capital ‘S’) that Jesus referred to in John 3:5. And as an aside, speaking in tongues is one of the most awesome spiritual experiences in the world. Can you truly knock what you’ve never experienced? But read the first sentence of this paragraph again. I said that speaking in tongues is a sign that one has received the Spirit. I did not say that it is the Spirit. And therein lies the source of my rant.
Speaking in tongues DOES NOT = The Holy Ghost
So many, many times, my A/P (Apostolic/Pentecostal) brothers and sisters focus too fervently on the phenomenon of speaking in tongues. We extol it as Catholics extol Mary (and for the record, Catholics do not officially “worship” her). Especially when it comes to people who are new converts and are new to the Holy Ghost thing. We want to pat them on the back and proclaim, “They got it!” if we hear any utterance resembling gibberish come out of their mouths. On the positive side, perhaps getting excited about “getting it” builds peoples’ faith. But on the negative, it may make people feel rushed and pushed into something, and perhaps we get ourselves into the sticky situation of proclaiming over someone what they themselves have not claimed to have experienced. So, back up, brothers and sisters. Let people breathe. Allow people to know that they know for themselves.
Doesn’t the scripture also say that “the fruit of the Spirit (capital ‘S’) is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, and temperance” (Gal 5:22-23)? Doesn’t Jesus say in Matthew 7:20 that “by their fruits ye shall know them”? So, as far as I’m concerned, you can run around spouting “heavenly language” 24/7 and still not “have it.” If you aren’t bearing the fruit of the Spirit in your life, what’s the use? What good is tearfully belting out monosyllables at altar call and then being a miserable, impatient, self-serving person who wouldn’t know the love of Jesus if it slapped you in the face when it’s all said and done?
Okay, enough with the ridiculous rhetorical questions. lol. All I’m saying is that tongues is a sign. But it isn’t the only sign. And it most certainly shouldn’t be conflated with the Spirit itself.
Saturday, January 13, 2007
The Alchemist
I finally finished reading The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho.
Before I went to Spain for the second time, I met a Spanish guy named Pedro who was studying abroad at The University of Alabama and who was sponsored by the same school in Spain where I was planning to study. At that time, my trip was still in the planning/hoping stage. I was applying for every scholarship I could get my hands on, doing everything I could to make my desperate hope a reality.
I would always excitedly talk to Pedro about how much I loved Spain and how I really wanted to go back and on and on and on, and he would refer to this book called The Alchemist in reassuring me that my hopes would become a reality. He quoted the book saying, "When you really want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it." I thought that was a nice idea, if not a little New Age sounding, but I resolved it was just another way of saying " Ask, and it shall be given unto you. Seek and ye shall find. Knock, and the door will open unto you," Eventually, I hung out with Pedro on the other side of the ocean when my hopes did become a reality, and it proved his Alchemist point, lol, and I always wanted to actually read the thing myself so I could understand what this universe conspiring stuff was all about.
The Alchemist came back to me when I saw it the other day while browsing around Books-a-Million. It was on sale and I have a Books-a-Million discount card, so I said, what the hey. I read the back and the inside flap and found that it was like this internationally bestselling phenomenon and all of this. Upon reading it, I found that it was like a fairy tale, an extended parable of sorts. Have you ever read the original Pinocchio or The Little Prince? It reminded me of that. The premise and the writing were pretty uncomplicated, so I wasn't blown away by its exquisiteness. The allure, really, lies within its simplicity and its positive message about following your dreams. I also liked the way the author used Biblical allusions in a fresh and interesting way. I guess I'm just sort of charmed with it right now because the main character goes on this journey to realize his "Personal Legend," and though some of the terminology was kind of corny; Personal Legend, Soul of the World, and all of that, it made me think about myself in a way. A young person who eschews the ordinary and who wants to fulfill her life's destiny. Whatever it is. I know that sounds kind of corny too, but, emotional nerd that I am, that's the kind of stuff that gives me the warm fuzzies.
(sigh) I love to read.
Before I went to Spain for the second time, I met a Spanish guy named Pedro who was studying abroad at The University of Alabama and who was sponsored by the same school in Spain where I was planning to study. At that time, my trip was still in the planning/hoping stage. I was applying for every scholarship I could get my hands on, doing everything I could to make my desperate hope a reality.
I would always excitedly talk to Pedro about how much I loved Spain and how I really wanted to go back and on and on and on, and he would refer to this book called The Alchemist in reassuring me that my hopes would become a reality. He quoted the book saying, "When you really want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it." I thought that was a nice idea, if not a little New Age sounding, but I resolved it was just another way of saying " Ask, and it shall be given unto you. Seek and ye shall find. Knock, and the door will open unto you," Eventually, I hung out with Pedro on the other side of the ocean when my hopes did become a reality, and it proved his Alchemist point, lol, and I always wanted to actually read the thing myself so I could understand what this universe conspiring stuff was all about.
The Alchemist came back to me when I saw it the other day while browsing around Books-a-Million. It was on sale and I have a Books-a-Million discount card, so I said, what the hey. I read the back and the inside flap and found that it was like this internationally bestselling phenomenon and all of this. Upon reading it, I found that it was like a fairy tale, an extended parable of sorts. Have you ever read the original Pinocchio or The Little Prince? It reminded me of that. The premise and the writing were pretty uncomplicated, so I wasn't blown away by its exquisiteness. The allure, really, lies within its simplicity and its positive message about following your dreams. I also liked the way the author used Biblical allusions in a fresh and interesting way. I guess I'm just sort of charmed with it right now because the main character goes on this journey to realize his "Personal Legend," and though some of the terminology was kind of corny; Personal Legend, Soul of the World, and all of that, it made me think about myself in a way. A young person who eschews the ordinary and who wants to fulfill her life's destiny. Whatever it is. I know that sounds kind of corny too, but, emotional nerd that I am, that's the kind of stuff that gives me the warm fuzzies.
(sigh) I love to read.
Thursday, January 11, 2007
Meow
The cat is officially out of the bag. I finally talked to my supervisors about my intentions of possibly not returning next school year. (My plan.)
I wasn't going to any time soon . . . at least not until I got an acceptance letter, or just something . . . definite. But what I didn't realize until yesterday is that we have to turn in our letters of intent to the headmaster this Friday! Aww, great. I'm definitely going to have to say something now. I can't just check "if offered a contract, I'm not sure whether I'll return," and leave it at that.
So yesterday, I talked to Dr. Headmaster. I was so nervous. I don't know why. I guess because I feel bad about leaving for some reason. And also because I feel weird telling someone I'm going to do something when I don't even know for sure whether things are going to pan out. Anyway, even though he said he really hated to lose me, he was very supportive and encouraging when I told him my plans, and suggested I tell my other supervisors soon. Today, I let my principals at the Middle and Elementary schools know. It also went well, so I'm encouraged. I guess the whole "letting people know" wasn't as bad as I thought. However, I haven't told my co-workers, et. al. yet and probably won't until I know for sure.
I called Wash U yesterday just to make sure everything is complete. The deadline is the 15th and I would utterly hate to wait until the last minute and find that I did not have all my stuff together. They told me my application is complete, so, seriously this time, all I have to do now is wait.
Anyway, I don't know what it is, but lately, more than ever before, I feel a big rolling wave of change slowly pouring over me. And it's so bittersweet. It's so fluid. It's unsteadying, unpredictable, heady. It will elevate you to heights just as quickly as it will pull you to the depths, and undiscriminating about when or how or why it will do so. So this is how it feels to be in the thick of transition.
"There is a tide in the affairs of men/ Which taken at the flood, leads on to fortune;/ Omitted, all the voyage of their life/ Is bound in shallows and in miseries" (Julius Caesar 4.3.218).
I wasn't going to any time soon . . . at least not until I got an acceptance letter, or just something . . . definite. But what I didn't realize until yesterday is that we have to turn in our letters of intent to the headmaster this Friday! Aww, great. I'm definitely going to have to say something now. I can't just check "if offered a contract, I'm not sure whether I'll return," and leave it at that.
So yesterday, I talked to Dr. Headmaster. I was so nervous. I don't know why. I guess because I feel bad about leaving for some reason. And also because I feel weird telling someone I'm going to do something when I don't even know for sure whether things are going to pan out. Anyway, even though he said he really hated to lose me, he was very supportive and encouraging when I told him my plans, and suggested I tell my other supervisors soon. Today, I let my principals at the Middle and Elementary schools know. It also went well, so I'm encouraged. I guess the whole "letting people know" wasn't as bad as I thought. However, I haven't told my co-workers, et. al. yet and probably won't until I know for sure.
I called Wash U yesterday just to make sure everything is complete. The deadline is the 15th and I would utterly hate to wait until the last minute and find that I did not have all my stuff together. They told me my application is complete, so, seriously this time, all I have to do now is wait.
Anyway, I don't know what it is, but lately, more than ever before, I feel a big rolling wave of change slowly pouring over me. And it's so bittersweet. It's so fluid. It's unsteadying, unpredictable, heady. It will elevate you to heights just as quickly as it will pull you to the depths, and undiscriminating about when or how or why it will do so. So this is how it feels to be in the thick of transition.
"There is a tide in the affairs of men/ Which taken at the flood, leads on to fortune;/ Omitted, all the voyage of their life/ Is bound in shallows and in miseries" (Julius Caesar 4.3.218).
Monday, January 08, 2007
2007, We Need to Talk
Okay, 2007. I'm trying to start you off in a realistic way. You see, I didn't make a regimented list of resolutions, I'm not trying to get ahead of myself and make any outlandish predictions, I'm just trying to take it as it comes. But you're just determined to do stuff to get me out of whack, it seems. So, we need to talk.
I'm a reasonable person. I know that life has ups and downs, and that's fine. I can handle it. But 2007, could you try to space them out a little? You must've known somehow that I love rollercoasters. Just not the emotional kind. Sheesh.
Okay, Friday night was a downer, Saturday morning I emerged, and then Sunday you blindside me with devestating news of people that I love "moving on," and happy news that I'm officially a bridesmaid in my friends' upcoming wedding one right after the other. What are you trying to do? See how I can balance feeling wretched and elated at the same time? Naw, 2007. You need to cut that stuff out.
Now that we've had our little talk, you know how I feel. I'm usually non-confrontational, but when something needs to be said, I have no problem with getting everything out there on the table, you know what I'm saying? So, please, help me give my tear ducts a break. Now, 2007, don't get me wrong, we're still dawgs and everything, but I'm just letting you know that you're starting to push it.
I'm a reasonable person. I know that life has ups and downs, and that's fine. I can handle it. But 2007, could you try to space them out a little? You must've known somehow that I love rollercoasters. Just not the emotional kind. Sheesh.
Okay, Friday night was a downer, Saturday morning I emerged, and then Sunday you blindside me with devestating news of people that I love "moving on," and happy news that I'm officially a bridesmaid in my friends' upcoming wedding one right after the other. What are you trying to do? See how I can balance feeling wretched and elated at the same time? Naw, 2007. You need to cut that stuff out.
Now that we've had our little talk, you know how I feel. I'm usually non-confrontational, but when something needs to be said, I have no problem with getting everything out there on the table, you know what I'm saying? So, please, help me give my tear ducts a break. Now, 2007, don't get me wrong, we're still dawgs and everything, but I'm just letting you know that you're starting to push it.
Saturday, January 06, 2007
What If
I cried myself to sleep last night. My resolution is going to take a little more work, I guess. lol. I woke up this morning, restless still. I needed to clear my head. I prescribed myself a walk.
One of the things I love about Montgomery is the Blount Cultural Park. It's beautiful and scenic and a two-minute drive from where I live. The perfect atmosphere for head clearing, I suppose. They do say that exercise releases chemicals that induce a feeling of well-being. Anyway, I got my juices flowing, became invigorated by the cool (but certainly not cold in these parts) Alabama air, and was amused by dogs jumping into ponds to retrieve frisbees, by kids on tricycles and scooters they probably got for Christmas, by the sounds of ducks and geese whose quacks and honks seemed like laughter, and by snatches of conversations as pairs fast-walked and jogged past me.
After an hour or so, I went to Panera Bread for a caramel latte topped with whipped cream and a strawberry and cream cheese pastry (I didn't say I was exercising to try to lose weight), a newly borrowed Don Miller book in tow called Searching for God Knows What. I thoroughly enjoyed his earlier Blue Like Jazz, and am quickly devouring this one. Anyway, I came across a passage talking about humanity's need for relationship and community:
I felt like I was reading something I could have written. I began to wonder if this idea is a part of what is eating me. The realization of my need--relationship, community--that I thought I had already fulfilled. Spiritually, at least.
I think part of the change that needs to happen is physical, as in, where I am locationally, geographically. And I'm working on that one. But, as I've come to realize in other situations, change of scene does not = change of self. Change of self is so much more involved. And I'm still trying to figure that part out.
One of the things I love about Montgomery is the Blount Cultural Park. It's beautiful and scenic and a two-minute drive from where I live. The perfect atmosphere for head clearing, I suppose. They do say that exercise releases chemicals that induce a feeling of well-being. Anyway, I got my juices flowing, became invigorated by the cool (but certainly not cold in these parts) Alabama air, and was amused by dogs jumping into ponds to retrieve frisbees, by kids on tricycles and scooters they probably got for Christmas, by the sounds of ducks and geese whose quacks and honks seemed like laughter, and by snatches of conversations as pairs fast-walked and jogged past me.
After an hour or so, I went to Panera Bread for a caramel latte topped with whipped cream and a strawberry and cream cheese pastry (I didn't say I was exercising to try to lose weight), a newly borrowed Don Miller book in tow called Searching for God Knows What. I thoroughly enjoyed his earlier Blue Like Jazz, and am quickly devouring this one. Anyway, I came across a passage talking about humanity's need for relationship and community:
And that is the thing about life. You go walking along, thinking people are talking a language and exchanging ideas, but the whole time there is this deeper language poeple are really talking, and that language has nothing to do with ethics, fashion, or politics, but what it really has to do with is feeling important and valuable. What if the economy we are really dealing in life, what if the language we are really speaking in life, what if what we really want in life is relational?
Now this changes things quite a bit, because if the gospel of Jesus is just some formula I obey in order to get off the naughty list and put on a nice list, then it doesn't meet the deep need of the human condition, it doesn't interact with the great desire of my soul, and it has nothing to do with the hidden (or rather, obvious) language we are all speaking. But if it is more, if it is a story about humanity falling away from the community that named it, and an attempt to bring humanity back to that community, and if it is more than a series of ideas, but rather speaks directly into this basic human need we are feeling, then the gospel of Jesus is the most relevant message in the history of mankind.
I felt like I was reading something I could have written. I began to wonder if this idea is a part of what is eating me. The realization of my need--relationship, community--that I thought I had already fulfilled. Spiritually, at least.
I think part of the change that needs to happen is physical, as in, where I am locationally, geographically. And I'm working on that one. But, as I've come to realize in other situations, change of scene does not = change of self. Change of self is so much more involved. And I'm still trying to figure that part out.
Friday, January 05, 2007
Everything Is Beautiful
So everything is beautiful
Even when the tears are falling
I don’t need a miracle to believe
Even in the crashing down
I can hear redemption calling
And everything is beautiful to me
—from “Everything Is Beautiful” by Starfield
Even when the tears are falling
I don’t need a miracle to believe
Even in the crashing down
I can hear redemption calling
And everything is beautiful to me
—from “Everything Is Beautiful” by Starfield
Tuesday, January 02, 2007
Let's Do This
That is how I'm feeling about 2007. I'm like, come on, 2007. I'm ready. Let's do this.
Hitting Houston was great. (Thanks, gemela!) But do you really want to know the point-by-point details of everything I did? Nah. I wasn't pouring forth details when I got back home and my mom said something kind of quirky and something that I'll probably only grasp once I have twentysomething children. She said, "When I don't know what's going on with you, it drives me crazy." I'm thinking, okay . . . if anyone has anything "going on" that's unbeknownst to people, it's not me. Trust Channy on this one.
I'm hurriedly writing this from work post-teacher inservice (the dear ones come back tomorrow) due to an idiotic internet outage at home. Blast you, BellSouth! Hopefully I'll get it all settled today. Okay, back to 2007.
I'll go ahead and be cliche and say that this year has crazily flown by. It's honest to goodness insane. I can't even express how scary that is. I was getting all good and settled in 2006, and then 2007 was like, ding-dong! Get the door, I'm here! I mean, I just wrote this about my resolutions, et. al. for 2006. And, sadly, I measured up pretty dismally on carrying out my resolutions. But I still believe.
So, this year, though I still have my personal goal of making it a point to spend set-aside time with God, I only have one resolution. It's something that is uncomplicated, doable, yet, something that I haven't been able to do consistently for a long time. Here it is . . . (drumroll please):
I will be confident.
That's it. That's my resolution. It's going to be my 2007 mantra. I will be confident. I mean, honestly, I am confident at times. But this year, I'm going all the way. Whenever I'm feeling a little unsure of myself due to whatever, I will shut myself up with my mantra. I will be confident. Whenever I wonder if I'm going to really be able to whatever, I will cut my mental monologue off with my mantra. I will be confident. Whenever self pity tries to worm its way into my psyche, I will crush it with my mantra. I will be confident. You see? It's so easy to remember. But I will be confident that it's easy to do. Let's do this.
Hitting Houston was great. (Thanks, gemela!) But do you really want to know the point-by-point details of everything I did? Nah. I wasn't pouring forth details when I got back home and my mom said something kind of quirky and something that I'll probably only grasp once I have twentysomething children. She said, "When I don't know what's going on with you, it drives me crazy." I'm thinking, okay . . . if anyone has anything "going on" that's unbeknownst to people, it's not me. Trust Channy on this one.
I'm hurriedly writing this from work post-teacher inservice (the dear ones come back tomorrow) due to an idiotic internet outage at home. Blast you, BellSouth! Hopefully I'll get it all settled today. Okay, back to 2007.
I'll go ahead and be cliche and say that this year has crazily flown by. It's honest to goodness insane. I can't even express how scary that is. I was getting all good and settled in 2006, and then 2007 was like, ding-dong! Get the door, I'm here! I mean, I just wrote this about my resolutions, et. al. for 2006. And, sadly, I measured up pretty dismally on carrying out my resolutions. But I still believe.
So, this year, though I still have my personal goal of making it a point to spend set-aside time with God, I only have one resolution. It's something that is uncomplicated, doable, yet, something that I haven't been able to do consistently for a long time. Here it is . . . (drumroll please):
I will be confident.
That's it. That's my resolution. It's going to be my 2007 mantra. I will be confident. I mean, honestly, I am confident at times. But this year, I'm going all the way. Whenever I'm feeling a little unsure of myself due to whatever, I will shut myself up with my mantra. I will be confident. Whenever I wonder if I'm going to really be able to whatever, I will cut my mental monologue off with my mantra. I will be confident. Whenever self pity tries to worm its way into my psyche, I will crush it with my mantra. I will be confident. You see? It's so easy to remember. But I will be confident that it's easy to do. Let's do this.
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