dear Esmeralda,

any second the phone could ring.  until then, i'm being paid the price of a milkshake per hour to sit here and wait to be needed.  it's pretty intense. really. try it sometime and see if YOUR heart doesn't just race the entire time!

because i decided TV costs way too much, i have fallen for netflix instead.  and i'll watch endless episodes of a show, hoping against hope i can make it through another 43 minutes without being called it. this is what i do on-call… earn another milkshake.  anything longer a movie than that, and there's little chance i can finish it before The Phone Call.

i just finished the final episode of Monk.  It's the best tv-series finale i've ever seen.  i legitimately wanted to cry, but i'd never be able to answer the phone if/when staffing called me if i started sobbing.  but it was epic. 

then i took a leap of faith and chose something new to Netflix that's 90 minutes long.  i haven't seen it in decades, and have only faint memories of it.  The Hunchback of Notre Dame.   it's a grim look at the hypocrisy in the church, and it's awfully intense for a kids' movie.  i'm not sure how i feel about yet another secular movie justifying an anti-church attitude by throwing our hypocrisy in our faces again, but it's happened before and will continue to happen.  never underestimate the ability of Disney to warp spirituality and the church to fit the current sway of culture.

thank God the gospel is stronger than any hypocrite or sinner. 

but right in the middle of the chaos, anger, malice and decrepit spirituality there was another noise.  a little quieter, but there.

Esmeralda the gypsy girl- clearly a sinner so far from grace that nobody, not even herself, considered that any God out there would deign to listen to her.   the entire culture has crossed every one of her people off their list, sure that grace could never reach them.  worthless.  actually, worse than worthless.  better off dead than alive.  heathen, deserving of death.

seeking sanctuary in the… well, sanctuary of the magnificent Notre Dame cathedral, she sees many people, dressed prim and proper, kneeling in the pews praying so… neatly.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0pLCDnbBEk0

in the background, the dirty wretched heathen outcast tries praying for the first, precious time.  and that little flicker of faith reveals in its glow that there is room at the cross for even her.  even more, she can see straight to the heart of the gospel and understands it more than many of the church members represented, except the priest.  she understands that Jesus came to call the sinners, not the righteous, to repentance.  and that He hears each simple desperate plea.  most times, it takes an outcast to understand an outcast.

that's why he became one.  so we could understand.

there's so much honesty in that song i can hardly stand it.  no, her philosophy is not 100% correct, but for someone who'd never in a church before, she has a connection to the bigger reality not immediately visible until a level of desperation is reached, the walls she's built up come crashing down, and false prayers just fizzle away.  she's hurting, she's got questions, and she's got the guts to ask them.  she speaks for all the outcasts who are still waiting for relief to come.  it's on its way.  those who trust in Him are every bit His children and He would never ever forsake them.  Jesus didn't forget them, and neither did his followers. is there hypocrisy in the church? yes, because we are human.  but is there also grace, mercy, peace, forgiveness, healing, hope and completely unbound liberty? yes, because each of us had that same kind of heart-rending First Prayer. and He heard us, too.  the Church is rising up and answering the call. His people are going all over the globe and finding His children. they are hearing the Good News that answers the cry of their hearts, finding healing and peace.  there's a lot of work still to be done, but we'll get there.  to all the Esmeraldas of the world- keep praying. so will we! 

Esmeralda, get ready- this is gonna happen.  here's for you:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v_cQXROe4dQ

oh, to be a child in 1835!!

i feel like i learned so much this week.

in all actuality, it was probably a lot less than it feels like it was.

but still!!

1) kids in the early 1800's were a heckofalot tougher than kids today.  good glory!  one of the best parts of my growing collection of classical literature is Hans Christian Anderson's Complete Fairy Tales.

i just have to say that first off, this "complete" collection of fairy tales is completely DIFFERENT than the Grimm Brothers' "Complete Fairy Tales." which amuses me greatly.

but also, THESE FAIRY TALES ARE TERRIFYING!!!! i almost had nightmares from a couple of these!!  fascinating, but not something i would ever read to a small child immediately before turning the lights off and leaving them alone in the dark all night long.

2) i am entering a new phase of life. this phase is entirely coated with cat fur.  i think the only item in my possession that has no fur on it (that i know of) is my towel hanging just out of paw's reach.  i think that if this cat were no declawed we might be having some more serious talks, but this cat is declawed and fabulous.  i think he knows it, too.  i love this cat.  if i ever don't want to get up and do something, he's ALWAYS right there and trying to sit on my leg, face, shoulder or at least my foot.  when i sleep on my side, he's gotten pretty good at balancing on my other side.  to prove my point: i stood up for 2 minutes, and he has made himself quite comfortable in the exact place i had been.  but he's purring and pretty so i let him.

3) tv is depressing. i thought i liked being an informed american. then i found out by staying NOT informed, that i am completely ignorant but SO much happier!! also, i found the 6th season of Psych and it ended on a potentially horrible note.  i have not seen any of the new season, but that was either a horrible season closer or the cruelest cliffhanger ever.  i also caught up with the rest of the nation and saw the final season of House. i pretty much wanted to cry and then watch it again and hope for a more satisfying ending. 

4) i think we ought to have a second round of gift-giving at Easter time.  it's just too much fun and for a good cause :) if Christmas is a big deal, then Ester oughta be at least as big a deal, so we may as well get the food and family involved and send some presents everywhere.  if some doc tells me someday that i have 6 months to live, and it's february, i would be happy knowing i still had one more fantastic holiday to celebrate. not that there would be a shortage of celebration in heaven, of course.  just sayin'. why not celebrate here, too?

5) i am not a normal person. sorry, just not.  i like my job and co-workers and apartment, use proper grammar when at all possible, and love showing up at work in the dead of night with something to share. my bad days are when i think i am supposed to have a problem with being different.  my best days are those when i have long random conversations with cool, fairly normal people who just remind me that abnormal is okay -and sometimes- pretty awesome.  there are too many lies out there to get tangled up in and it takes a while to cut through all that underbrush .  much easier just to not trick yourself into being someone/something you're not for a lie when the simple truth is right in front of you.

6) spring needs to hurry up and come. and then stay for a bit. pretty sure i was in short sleeves with the air conditioning on by this time last year.  i'm okay with going back to that now.  i am still wearing my jacket indoors and sitting under the heating vents. 

7) i love how Perry followed me downstairs to make a cup of tea, then back upstairs to sit ON me (not NEXT TO) and is watching The Killers with me at 2 am. 

because even with bullets and cuss words flying, it is still less scary than the original Thumbelina story.

a ton on my mind and a cat ON my elbow...

i just had one of those days that could have been a disaster.  bad things happen when you have a day like mine and then listen to Chris Tomlin while driving down the bypass at 55 mph.  crying while behind the wheel of a car going really fast is never advisable, but sometimes unavoidable.

ever had one of those days when the idea of an all-consuming, all-powerful, never-ending love just knocks you off your feet? and all you can do is just sit there and take it? and all you're thinking is how nothing else matters too much anymore?

*insert Chris Tomlin here*

to back up a good number of hours, i woke up early afternoon  feeling excellent. after a fairly excellent nigh at work. birds were singing outside and a huge cat was purring directly into my face from a distance of about 4 inches. i had a Hobby Lobby shopping list that expanded as soon as i walked in the door from the best parking spot ever.  and then because i had 4 hours before a meeting, i crossed Vann Drive and picked up a new book by a favorite author in Books a Million.

that's when this guy walks in and decides to sit right next to me. two and a half of those hours go by before he decides to ask my opinion on the legalization of pot. i tried to find a non-committal way of saying, "frankly sir, i do not care." but he isn't great at picking up on subtle cues and keeps talking and then asking my opinion on issues that i either know nothing about or did not even know WERE issues.  this guy is apparently very concerned about the war on drugs and how this was driving so much of this nation's criminal activity. and i just had to disagree a bit and say that i thought sin and selfishness were a bit more to blame. 

the next 90 minutes of my life were filled with this energetic middle aged man expounding to me all the reasons he was no longer a religious OR a spiritual person and why no Christian could possibly give him enough answers to prove Christianity conclusively and therefore religious people were all hypocrites.  for instance, if God really was all-powerful and good, then why will you not ever find a case of Him healing an amputee? nota one! no matter if every human on earth all sat down and prayed at the same time for an amputee's arm to come back. clearly, God is not all He is cracked up to be.  there's just too much bad. the idea of a "good" God and the mere existence of a "hell" are two incompatible truths. 

i was at a loss. i hate discussions like this because he didn't really want an answer.  misquoting Bible verses to "dis-prove" religion and then not letting me use any sort of Bible context to respond is just not fair, first of all. he listened half-heartedly and then energetically blew off anything i just finished saying.  which wasn't alot.

i was relieved when i finally had to leave. but the conversation still hasn't left my mind.  this meeting i was at involved some discussion on real-life situations that are a daily reality for way too many kids. i know some of these kids and the thought of what they have to handle from such an early age is just foreign.

i left, and all i could think of was this prior conversation with yet another human who just can't understand a good God and ….

...and really how i have no good answer to that.  not that i can easily put into words.

i had a good day tod.. well, yesterday, now.

but i've had a handful of… years… that were not good. the dude in the bookstore probably made all the same assumptions that most people do about who i am, what i've done and seen, and what i believe. most people are wrong, but that's beside the point.

the point is that while i can look back and see how at least some of it played a vital role in making me into the "me" i am.  but some of it i still wrestle with, still haven't come to terms with entirely, still even have the occasional nightmare about. there are honestly some terrible memories i have, with no positive outcome or result that i can see.  if i could see the purpose in it, could see what good came out of it, then i would totally be okay with it- i promise! but i can't. 

but this is the part where good ole' Chris Tomlin comes on and reminds me that it's totally possible for there to be a good God who lets us make a choice to love because there is no love unless there's a choice.  and that God really does know everything, and because i don't there are tons of answers that i can't give to tough questions… but i know the One who does have the answers.  and it's gonna be enough for me.  there's a love that is present in this world, and the ones who are in tune with it can tell you what it does. it drowns out fear. and hopelessness. and doubts. and pain. and anger. this love is too big to let petty things like temporary insecurities defeat it. not to trivialize the tragedies that affect persons and plague nations by any means- they are horrible, some of them downright evil, but however big the evil is, the love is an even bigger answer than the questions call for.   THE answer, really. completely NOT provable by science or even rational thought.  there is almost no good reason why a God would even think to make us, and then go beyond our wildest imaginations to go redeem us, remake us AGAIN, after the incredible lengths humans have gone through to cut Him out of our lives and go our own ways.  it's a crazy, relentlessly insane concept that could blow out of the water any philosophy book in that entire little bookstore.  i pointed the guy to a couple CS Lewis books because that guy is so much smarter than me and might be able to speak to the bookstore creeper in ways i can't, and also because he's British which means you can read it in a cool accent and it just makes the whole experience 10 times better. 

i still don't recommend bursting into tears while driving, but i wholeheartedly DO recommend setting aside some time (while NOT in potentially life-threatening situations) to ponder how you would answer the complete stranger who asked you to reconcile a messed-up world with a "good" God. because you're going to meet one someday who might actually want to know.  and if the idea of that Good God just brings you to overflow with tears of joy, know that you are surrounded by a Love that is even more thrilled than you are.  and by skeptics who think you're insane for believing it.  and by a host of guardian angels who will keep you from causing accidents on the road if that's where you are when the moment hits you.

if you're one of those skeptics, i can't do much more than point to the bookshelf with CS Lewis. if you've read this far into the post, then you've already seen me confess that i don't have much more of an answer.

but maybe i don't have to.

a stitch of time

sometime almost exactly a year ago i began new adventure in crafts.  one that has not ended yet.

it is the cross-stitch project that i said would probably never ever get finished.  that still may be true, but i have officially gone over the halfway point sometime in the past month or two...or three. right now, it just means that the pattern guide has tattered edges and i've had to re-fold it backwards so that i can see the lower half that i'm working on.  the dumb thing is split so that the top half, with the symbol chart is on one 2-page-width side, and then the lower half's chart is on the flip-and-reversed side with the spanish and french translations that are telling me how to wash and iron the finished project before displaying it.

seriously?

i'm beyond amazed if this thing EVER gets completed.  the last thing i'm thinking about is "oh, blast- am i supposed to spot-clean this with: warm water and soap or cold?"

let me tell you, though- if that glorious day ever arrives, this will be displayed all over the place.  anyone who knows me will be told the feat i have accomplished.  right now, this is the only thing keeping me going one teeny tiny stitch at a time. i'll even admit to cheating a couple times.  because i refuse to go through the bother of taking ONE strand of a tan color, and combining it with ONE single strand of an off-white color so that i can complete 4 stitches.  they're right next to 50 stitches of a just-barely-not white bunch of stitches.  sorry, but they're all going to be just-barely-not white.  just deal with it.  the only people who will care are the few who read this and know that at least 4 stitches are the "wrong" shade of off-white.

i dare you to find them.

but i had a thought halfway through a couple hours of cross-stitching that linked back to a weird conversation i had with my mother.

well, let's face it. the mere existence of a phone conversation between me and my mother is odd enough to throw me for a loop.  but this one was just a bit different from the like… 3 other phone calls in the past several months.  not to betray any confidences, that's going to be all you see about the phone call; but between that and getting an earful of JD Greear while trying to decipher the hieroglyphics on this huge graph made me wonder some.  wonder things like how life is like a huge, freakin' complicated cross-stitch project that seriously takes decades and decades to finish.  if each new stitch is a new day, you have the choice to cut corners and cheat- but you also have the choice to follow the chart, put in the extra effort and do what you really are supposed to do.  if you had one day for every stitch in this project, you will live to be approximately 87.67 years, which is just kinda creepily accurate given the illustration here. 

but even if you mess up on a few days here and there, and even if you're SURE the color the designer chose to put there is stupid but you do it anyway… you're gonna wind up with a masterpiece.

your master is, too.  and believe me when i say He simply can't wait until He gets to display you and all His other works of art up in heaven for all eternity while He soaks up all the due praise and glory.  yes, it takes a horribly long time. but it only takes that long because He's got a bit more patience than me and knows what He's doing, and can do it on several billion people all at once. 

so, if you are on Stitch #8775 (which i am, incidentally ;), and you wish it were more like Stitches #8770-8774 (which i sure as 'eck do NOT, by the way), or a different shade, or if He could just move on and work with somebody else for a bit and leave you alone… well, He's not going to.  He is working toward a pretty ambitious goal and it will be worth it. 

less seriously: my Stitches #8769-8774 involved an awful lot of color-switching, rule breaking, protocol- ka-chunking and generalized craziness such that my boss would either laugh her head off or cry. so this lil' masterpiece is going to look like a completely different pattern than yours.  be glad and rejoice exceedingly. because i'm literally in a back brace right now. once i'm completed and in Glory Land, i'll dance like there's no tomorrow.  but while there ARE still tomorrows, i'm going to find a chiropractor.

Summary for those Stitch-Cheaters:

1. whatever you're working on, do it right.

2. wherever on planet Earth your mother is, call her. today. i don't really care if your relationship with her sucks or not.  two of my friends either just lost or are in the midst of losing family members unexpectedly.  "today" is the only day you and she have.  make the most of it.

3. you're awesome. be satisfied.

4. you're going to be much more awesome.  be excited!

5. go back and read #2 until it sinks in and you actually do PICK UP A PHONE and call her.

6. take care of your back. you've only got one, and you kinda want it to last a while.

7. i hate typing the word "stitch"- i need to stop this!!! this post is done!!!!!!! good night!!

a birthday note that i wrote... to myself.

usually i type these out first into a different file so i can review it first.
its 0215, so i'm just gonna type. somehow i don't think my previewing it is going to change whether or not anyone reads this.  chances are that possibly, up to all 7 of the followers there are on this blog will see this before i die.  after i die, i shall not care. sorry, but i'll be busy :)
one smart thing i did last year on, or right around my birthday, was post a song that i hoped to use as a framework to use this past year as i would look back on some day.  or week. or hour.
i felt like a follow-up post would be appropriate this year.
first of all, i cannot post a new song for this year because i am watching The Lion King, and "I Just Cannot Wait to be King" doesn't really capture my goals or outlook.
this year was a frickin' roller coaster.  not that i hate roller coasters- never been on one, so i can't judge- (side note: i did go on one, but it wasn't really a roller coaster and was made for young children.  i hated every last second of that ride and almost got whiplash.  i was thrilled beyond measure when a roller coaster expert told me that The Mouse Trap ride is horrible and the worst one i could ever have been forced onto.  i am justified.)-but there were too many ups and downs for a control freak like me.  which is good. the best way to control a control freak is to take 100% of the control away and then let her eventually learn how to trust, and hope that she doesn't get any stomach ulcers from all the un-necessary stress.  another reason to have a blog, even if nobody reads it: i can control it, and do things like put side notes in the middle of sentences and dictate which words i Capitalize and Which i Do not. if that's all the power i have over my life circumstances, then i accept that.
back to the follow up,..
nope.  back to my control issues. i have learned about these issues this year.  not that i'm a whole lot better at managing them or coping with them, but we've taken the first by recognizing them.  second step seems to be talking in the third person like we do on occasion ;) if you tell me you've never created an imaginary friend in a weird situation just so you don't feel outnumbered, i don't believe you. in fact, neither of us do.
*Mufasa is just about to die, so i need to keep typing so i don't get upset. no matter how many times i see it, it always turns out the same!*
i am glad for the friends i have made, the friends i know better now than a year ago, and i'm working on being glad for the old friends who are...somewhere else doing their own thing now. whether or not i ever see you again, you impacted my life and i'm happy about that. i'm never happy at goodbyes, but i know that i'll get some new hellos when i need them.
RUN SIMBA!  RUNNNNNNNNN!!!!!!!
sorry...
so i guess this year, instead of a song i will have to make Disney-related goals for this year:
1. i will focus more on the Timons and Pumbaas in your life than the hyenas. (though i don't particularly recommend their life-philosophy, Buzzard-Bowling with friends is much healthier than wasting life trying to appease enemies).
2. i will find the beauty in the Beast.  i was never good at watching chick flicks, and i think it all started the first time i saw Beauty and the Beast and was crushed to realize that the Beast looked way better as a Beast than as the prince.
3. i will remember that if there's someone impossibly annoying around you, there's a reason. there's something for you to learn or do- whether it's to save a life or just to take your eyes off yourself for a second, listen, and then go all out for them- for the simple reason than nobody else would.
4. i will remember: some friends would swim the ocean with you to find something, some friends would swim the whole ocean to find YOU.  but only one Friend has done/is doing both.  and as far as my fears and failures go, His short-term memory loss is every bit as bad.
5. i will remember that some work just needs to be done.  if my only cheer-factor is the rats keeping me company, then so be it.
6. i cannot whistle to save my life, or make beautiful pies while dancing with woodland creatures. or sleep in a dwarf bed, surrounded by friends that bring home rubies and diamonds from work every night.
regardless: i will not accept snacks from warty old women.  or warty old men. or warty young men.
7.  i will not forget that i am a star!  and somewhere south of here, there is a precious little bug singing romantic songs to me. no, this does not bother me at all.
8. i will accept it when Rafiki clobbers me over the head with a giant stick. i need it much more than i get it.  if you are willing to step up and be the Rafiki in my life, please warn me first or accept the potentially harmful consequences of beating up a cardiac nurse.
9. i will remember that hard work is good, but too much of a good thing is actually a bad thing. Jesus put all kinds of work first, but He also remembered to make a quiet time a high priority.
10. i will not stop singing. the tunes may change, circumstances may dictate a much lower volume, and i will not usually sound that great lacking the backup chorus of sea animals, but there will be an on-going tune that sometimes needs to be belted out, regardless of who's around.  
11. i will remember that i am not the one holding the remote control on my life.

because i have no idea what this year holds, i'm hoping i don't weep later upon going back and reading these. i had no idea what last year held and i made it through mostly okay, with some scars and band-aids applied periodically.  i have continued my therapy sessions (aka AWANA) and everyone should be glad.  my patients, co-workers, friends, family, and all acquaintances have a vested interest in me keeping these appointments each week. little else will re-arrange your priority list quite like spending tons of time around 3-5 year olds. i strongly recommend it.

here's to more taxes and bills, and paychecks and pills, and friends, and parties and skype dates. here's to chocolate-covered-almonds moments, and here's to broccoli moments.  here's to quiet days, rainy days, busy days, bad days, thursdays, sunny days, and penguin days. don't ask me what those are- if you're having a penguin day, you'll know. 

here's to yet another year!

waiting...

"I do think," said Shasta, "that i must be the most unfortunate boy that ever lives in the whole world"... And being very tired and having nothing inside him, he felt so sorry for himself that the tears rolled down his cheeks.

What put a stop to all this was a sudden fright. Shasta discovered someone or somebody was walking beside him. It was pitch dark and he could see nothing...At last he could bear it no longer.

"Who are you?" he said, scarcely above a whisper.

"One who has waited long for you to speak'" said the Thing..."that is not the breath of a ghost. Tell me your sorrows."

Shasta was a little reassured by the breath: so he told how he had never known his real father or mother and had been brought up sternly by the fisherman.  And then he told the story of his escape and how they were chased by lions and forced to swim for their lives; and of all their dangers in Tashbaan and about his night among the tombs and how the beasts howled at him out of the desert.  And he told about the heat and thirst of their desert journey and how they were almost at their goal when another lion chased them and wounded Aravis.  And also, how very long it was since he had anything to eat.

"I do not call you unfortunate," said the Large Voice.

"Don't you think it was bad luck to meet so many lions?" asked Shasta.

"There was only one lion," said the Voice.

"How do you know?"

"I was the lion." And as Shasta gaped with open mouth and said nothing, the Voice continued. "I was the lion who forced you to join with Aravis. I was the cat who comforted you among the houses of the dead. I was the lion who drove the jackals from you while you slept. I was the lion who gave the Horses the new strength of fear for the last mile so that you should reach King Lune in time. And i was the lion you do not remember who pushed the boat in which you lay, a child near death, so that it came to shore where a man sat, wakeful at midnight, to receive you."

"Then it was you who wounded Aravis?"

"It was I."

"But what for?"
"Child," said the Voice, "I am telling you your story, not hers. I tell no one any story but their own."

"Who are you?" asked Shasta.

"Myself," said the Voice, very deep and low so that the earth shook: and again "Myself," so loud and clear and gay; and then the third time "Myself," whispered so softly you could hardly hear it, and yet it seemed to come from all round you as if the leaves rustled with it.

 

(The Horse and His Boy, by C. S. Lewis pages 172-176)

********

this section from The Horse and His Boy is what switched it from my least favorite to my favorite of the Chronicles of Narnia.  i never knew what it was like to be Shasta until i discovered that i really was.  this is the Narnia retelling of the "Footprints in the Sand" poem that makes no sense and sounds cheesier than possible until you've been there. and it takes absolutely forever to get there.  and in this world, there's no guarantee that Aslan is going to show up and explain with nice, clear bullet pointed-PowerPoint slides how every piece of your story fits together, how every trial was really a blessing in disguise, how every question has a perfectly acceptable answer.  if i were Shasta, i can tell you i would not have stopped arguing my point when he did.

the fact that Aslan even bothered to take the time with Shasta is enough for me, however.  being the incredible One that He is, He even let Shasta go first.  He invited him to, asked him to.

i have spent so much time alone and in the dark over the last several months that i can sympathize more than ever before with that poor dumb boy on the poor dumb horse. if Aslan showed up and asked for a list of grievances from me, it would take me too little time to throw it all down on several Post-its, color-coordinated alphabetically and by order of significance.  why the world is so screwed up, why my life can seem so screwed up, why horrid people do horrid things, why my problems can't be solved in 45 minutes or less like a tv show, why i'm not a princess and why there's no prince handy to fix my every dilemma. why people still have heart attacks and pneumonia over the holidays so neither they nor i get to relax with friends and family. why clothes have to be ironed and rusty pans take so much scrubbing before they shine.

but the greater-than-Aslan still says, "Come. Sit here a while and tell me all about it. Stay longer and hear from me. Let's talk." 

"Myself" is almost as close to "Yahweh" that the English language comes.  Yahweh- the first name God uses to introduce Himself to a mere human.  the name on the covenant. the name that began a relationship between Creator-God and created man. infinitely large and powerful, yet infinitely small and meticulous and detailed. the Yahweh wants to hear from us... from me.  i'm having a very similar conversation with the Large Voice tonight. and as much as i still struggle with the staying-longer and hearing part, i'm taking the first step (again) in trying. i keep getting side-tracked before we ever reach the end of the conversation that began a good many years ago, actually.   

i don't need to have all the answers to all those questions.  He's letting me see my story, not anyone else's, except how they are all really His story.  whatever page you're on, stop every once in a while, listen for the voice; wait for it- it's waiting for you.

bring it on, bonheoffer!

no, i haven't died- all 7 of you who read this can rest assured :P

it's just been one of those… summers… where everyone else has all this free time and can't wait until they can send their kids back to school and the heat backs off and they are spending their  time gardening and cooking and vacations and tanning by the pool.  and then there's me, thinking "if only i could get people to coordinate their heart attacks." because then i'd get a summer break, too.  but i can't and so i don't.  i've been working one or two nights, with one or two nights in between, for a good number of weeks and it leaves little time for things like blogs. or anything else.

but i have had just enough time recently (like, the past week or two) to do some thinking. (yeah...haven't had much time for that either until now).  and because i'm probably going to have to wait a bit before i do much of it again, my brain went from "oh-look!  silence! let's think about something happy, like flowers" to "let's re-evaluate everything in your whole life.  right now."

yup.

the problem: it's a pretty short list right now.  basically, i have a handful of values and beliefs that just aren't going anywhere.  but then there's me, and i don't seem to be going anywhere, either.  which just feels weird.

we're chugging away through the Bible and seem to be perpetually stuck in the OT histories, an endless cycle of sin, prophets, judgement, redemption, and then right back to sin.  a ton of those kings never even got halfway through the cycle because they were such jerks they got themselves and their families executed in an extraordinarily short amount of time (like, a week after gaining the throne).  

but more than the rebellious kings, what is getting to me this time is those prophets.  daggum, it is not glorious.  not at all.  i do not envy their occupation.  however, they didn't get to choose it.  they were told to go be a witness, to all kinds of people in ALLLLL kinds of ways.  and they didn't even stop to say "Yes, Lord." the next verse is them talking to others, telling them there's another way, a righteous way, to go. 

now the problem continues: in addition to those values and beliefs, there are a couple goals and dreams.  but for the most part….that part of the list is already done and accomplished.  the other few i don't have a whole lot of say in, or else maybe i'll toss them out or cross them off. 

elijah, jeremiah, isaiah, jonah, ezekiel- none of them had too many plans that God thought were more important than His. jonah disagreed for a bit, but he was overruled.  every one of them were sitting around enjoying daily life when out of the blue, God told them to drop what they were doing and enter into a mysterious and insane mission with nothing to lean on but a promise- and so they did. 

couple hundred years later, a couple poor fishermen and a tax collector and some of their buddies make the same choice without even a promise.  two words, "follow" and "me" and they're all in.  practically speaking, THEY'RE BONKERS.

fast forward a couple thousand years and then there's us.  enjoying our daily lives, not worrying about too much, making our summer plans… what if something random and crazy fell out of the sky and landed on your front porch (if you have one). something telling you there's more out there, and there are people on the other side of the globe that don't know about it.  and you're supposed to tell them. 

if that "you" changes to "me" all of a sudden i hush up. i feel like i'd want to be more like jonah than jeremiah.   jackson, tennessee is not exactly the promised land, but i doubt that i have the nerve to pluck up and move. 

bonhoeffer, in his eloquently composed "The Cost of Discipleship" had a section just on this.  we hold back- and we've been given ten times the promises and guidelines that the apostles were.  one of them was that it wasn't going to be easy.  but another one was that it would be totally worth it.  he lost me on a couple of his general principles, but i kinda wanna go back and read those sections before i decide to take on a guy like Bonheoffer. 

right now, i watching 3 of my favorite people on earth pack up and prepare to leave this end of a very long state and move to the other end.  they were told to go and so they are going.  part of me wishes that i had a place to go on to, to feel like i'm moving forward and actually doing something….and the other part really wants me to settle down here, get to the point where i'm more comfortable with calling this place my home.  the other other part of me is confused and politely declines to make a statement at this time. 

what am i going to do? well, i'm going to go to bed because it is almost 3 am.  then i'm going to wake up and get ready for work tomorrow night.  and i'm going to work as though tomorrow night will be the last time i see anyone there, knowing that at any time it may actually be.  i might be headed the exact wrong direction, but i do have every confidence that at the right time, God is strong enough to break through my brain and turn the lightbulb on.

and if i get swallowed by a beluga whale in the process, well, the life of an un-extraordinary prophet ain't all blueberries and bubble baths- but what a great story to tell later on!!