Somehow I missed that a tropical storm was heading our way. This morning during my commute to work, it rained like it was going out of style. The downpour was heavy and escaping it's baptism was inevitable. I. Was. Soaked.
I don't really like starting off the day with my feet wet, my hair frizzed to the point where it has developed an unfavorable personality of its own, my pants sticking to my body and then I'm officially chilled to the bone.
When it rains like this and it interferes with my plans, I sometimes feel as if God is saying to all of us, "haha and you thought you had plans! Why don't you stop and take a break?" Sometimes I need that break.
However, I love sleeping to the sound of rain. Rain gives me the perfect excuse to stay indoors, take a nap, watch a good movie and drink some hot tea. I think if it didn't mess up my hair and get me wet, rain and I would have a better relationship.
I'm not sure these fixes are going to happen so I'm going to just count on rain and I having a conditional type of relationship. Even with my rain boots, rain coat, rain hat and umbrella, ella, ella, ella...I still manage to get soaked.
Oh, well. Let it rain. At least it isn't snow right?
Thank you Lord for promising not to send another flood. And thank you for the rainbows when I get to see them. They always remind me of Your goodness, mercy and grace.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Virtues & Vices
For Pride is spiritual cancer: it eats up the very possibility of love, or contentment, or even common sense.
-CS Lewis, Mere Christianity
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| Click for larger image. |
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Just play.
After a season of heavy emotional lifting, it's important to take a break.
This may mean that we spend time alone, sorting through the weighty implications of our experiences. After all, God is blessed by our pursuit of intellectual integrity.
It may mean that we spend time resting, acknowledging our real physical limits. God can be blessed by our silence.
But we also serve a creative God: the Maker of all that is, seen and unseen. Sometimes, He is blessed when His children just play.
This may mean that we spend time alone, sorting through the weighty implications of our experiences. After all, God is blessed by our pursuit of intellectual integrity.
It may mean that we spend time resting, acknowledging our real physical limits. God can be blessed by our silence.
But we also serve a creative God: the Maker of all that is, seen and unseen. Sometimes, He is blessed when His children just play.
The photos below are from tonight's jam session. Pretend we sounded like this - and enjoy:
,
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Adventures in lucky aisle #7.
For S, as promised, because she fields this question as often as I do.
People often ask me, "Why are you still single?"
It's a fair question. I grew up in a small midwestern town where marrying your high school sweetheart is not uncommon, and I went to a Christian college where so many people hook up senior year that we actually have a catch phrase for it: "ring by spring." I have multiple bridesmaid dresses in my closet, and I'm currently prepping for my second tour of duty as a MOH. So it's perhaps unremarkable that I've been asked this question (not infrequently) by family, by friends, by friends of the family, by complete strangers, at church, at funerals, on first dates, while crossing the street . . .
Perhaps my favorite version of this question came from an ex-boyfriend in response to a picture posted on facebook. "How is that you live in our nation's capitol and haven't landed a sugar daddy? Did you just completely stay away from men while wearing this get up?" Um . . . thanks? It's not like you put a ring on it, buddy.
So here's the honest answer:
I turn into a troll at night. It's kind of awkward. Most guys just can't handle it.
Ok, no, I don't have a serious answer for you. I do want to be clear, however, that I'm not offended by your question. Every time you ask, I find it vaguely reassuring. At least the answer isn't obvious! When you stop asking is when I'll start to worry . . .
***
Perhaps it's possible to glean some insight into this question by dissecting this series of events from my evening:
1. On my Metro ride home tonight, a (probably unstable) man in a mismatched janitor's uniform started staring at me from the back of the car, and then crept his way over to the seat in front of me. Without a book to stare at, I was defenseless. His smell preceded his sultry greeting: "Hello there, beautiful." I did my best to ignore him, so he pulled out a comb and started brushing through his greasy hair while checking out my reflection in the glass windows. When he finally made his exit a few stops later, he tapped on the glass from outside the train car and started making frantic farewell gestures to me, leaving people on the platform and my fellow passengers staring at me in confusion. He's not mine, I promise.
2. In my neighborhood, a guy out walking his dog smiled at me, and then dropped the leash so that his curious puppy could come make his introductions for him. If only he knew how ineffective slobber is on me.
3. While jogging tonight, I was passed by a group of four male bikers who each made some kind of comment about my face, my body, or the fact that I was alone. (Note to self: get a jogging partner.)
4. When I finally made it to the grocery store, I was approached by a man in the baking aisle holding a couple pots in his hand. "Do you ever feel like a complete klutz when it comes to cooking?" he asked. Well, no, I don't. Grocery shopping is one of my favorite pastimes. So, I answered him honestly. He tried again, "I mean, I don't even own a muffin tin. Who doesn't own a muffin tin?" Sorry, buddy, I have no answer for you. I have four muffin tins in three different sizes. It was at that point that I noticed that he was legitimately attractive and not at all creepy. He also looked completely dejected by the fact that I blew off his pick up line. Whoops. "Well, thanks, have a good night," he said as he made his way toward the self-checkout kiosks. "Uh, good luck!" I called to the back of his head. Fail.
***
The point:
After a while (a series of creepy encounters, a string of bad dates, a few dry months), it's easy to go on auto-pilot. The answer is no. Unhesitatingly, unequivocally, uniformly no.
But when you operate this way, you miss all of the maybes.
Chin up, eyes forward. Maybe I'll see you again someday in lucky aisle number 7 . . .
People often ask me, "Why are you still single?"
It's a fair question. I grew up in a small midwestern town where marrying your high school sweetheart is not uncommon, and I went to a Christian college where so many people hook up senior year that we actually have a catch phrase for it: "ring by spring." I have multiple bridesmaid dresses in my closet, and I'm currently prepping for my second tour of duty as a MOH. So it's perhaps unremarkable that I've been asked this question (not infrequently) by family, by friends, by friends of the family, by complete strangers, at church, at funerals, on first dates, while crossing the street . . .
Perhaps my favorite version of this question came from an ex-boyfriend in response to a picture posted on facebook. "How is that you live in our nation's capitol and haven't landed a sugar daddy? Did you just completely stay away from men while wearing this get up?" Um . . . thanks? It's not like you put a ring on it, buddy.
So here's the honest answer:
I turn into a troll at night. It's kind of awkward. Most guys just can't handle it.
Ok, no, I don't have a serious answer for you. I do want to be clear, however, that I'm not offended by your question. Every time you ask, I find it vaguely reassuring. At least the answer isn't obvious! When you stop asking is when I'll start to worry . . .
***
Perhaps it's possible to glean some insight into this question by dissecting this series of events from my evening:
1. On my Metro ride home tonight, a (probably unstable) man in a mismatched janitor's uniform started staring at me from the back of the car, and then crept his way over to the seat in front of me. Without a book to stare at, I was defenseless. His smell preceded his sultry greeting: "Hello there, beautiful." I did my best to ignore him, so he pulled out a comb and started brushing through his greasy hair while checking out my reflection in the glass windows. When he finally made his exit a few stops later, he tapped on the glass from outside the train car and started making frantic farewell gestures to me, leaving people on the platform and my fellow passengers staring at me in confusion. He's not mine, I promise.
2. In my neighborhood, a guy out walking his dog smiled at me, and then dropped the leash so that his curious puppy could come make his introductions for him. If only he knew how ineffective slobber is on me.
3. While jogging tonight, I was passed by a group of four male bikers who each made some kind of comment about my face, my body, or the fact that I was alone. (Note to self: get a jogging partner.)
4. When I finally made it to the grocery store, I was approached by a man in the baking aisle holding a couple pots in his hand. "Do you ever feel like a complete klutz when it comes to cooking?" he asked. Well, no, I don't. Grocery shopping is one of my favorite pastimes. So, I answered him honestly. He tried again, "I mean, I don't even own a muffin tin. Who doesn't own a muffin tin?" Sorry, buddy, I have no answer for you. I have four muffin tins in three different sizes. It was at that point that I noticed that he was legitimately attractive and not at all creepy. He also looked completely dejected by the fact that I blew off his pick up line. Whoops. "Well, thanks, have a good night," he said as he made his way toward the self-checkout kiosks. "Uh, good luck!" I called to the back of his head. Fail.
***
The point:
After a while (a series of creepy encounters, a string of bad dates, a few dry months), it's easy to go on auto-pilot. The answer is no. Unhesitatingly, unequivocally, uniformly no.
But when you operate this way, you miss all of the maybes.
Chin up, eyes forward. Maybe I'll see you again someday in lucky aisle number 7 . . .
Saturday, September 11, 2010
In which I outsource to e.e. cummings.
When I was a little girl, my mom taught me to start all of my prayers by saying thank you first before launching into my wish list. For years, Jesus patiently listened to some version of this: "Thank you for sunshine. Thank you for ice cream. Thank you for my cat. Please make my brothers be nicer to me. Amen."
Have you ever tried this? Forcing your mouth to say thank you when your heart is screaming please? It kind of messes with your head.
Philippians 4:6 tells us that, instead of being anxious, we ought to preface our prayers to God with thanksgiving. Thanksgiving doesn't mean that we should simply learn how to be content with our portion without wanting more. It's saying that if anything is making you anxious-anything at all-you should bring it to God, but do it with a grateful heart.
I set aside some time this afternoon to try to put my previous posts on prayer into practice. I really do want X, and I would really like God to respond. After a quick jog along my new favorite stretch of the Mt. Vernon trail, I sat down at a shaded picnic table overlooking the Potomac. I stretched my list of Xs out in front of me, took a deep breath, and . . . realized that it was the most beautiful day I'd seen in months.
Thank you for the merciful respite from summer's heat. Thank you for the sweet promise of change this new autumn season brings. Thank you for a quiet moment to enjoy the beauty of the way the sunshine gets tangled in the tree leaves before shattering on the river's smooth surface. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
What was it that I wanted again?
A playful breeze picked up the piece of paper I had been scribbling on and sent my wish list floating toward the river, forcing me to literally chase after the things I wanted. My petitions were made, but they were made by a thankful heart, not an anxious one. God would have heard them either way. But this was a much more pleasant conversation.
i thank You God for most this amazing
i thank You God for most this amazing
day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky;and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes
(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun's birthday;this is the birth
day of life and of love and wings:and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)
how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any--lifted from the no
of all nothing--human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?
(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)
e.e. cummings
Have you ever tried this? Forcing your mouth to say thank you when your heart is screaming please? It kind of messes with your head.
Philippians 4:6 tells us that, instead of being anxious, we ought to preface our prayers to God with thanksgiving. Thanksgiving doesn't mean that we should simply learn how to be content with our portion without wanting more. It's saying that if anything is making you anxious-anything at all-you should bring it to God, but do it with a grateful heart.
I set aside some time this afternoon to try to put my previous posts on prayer into practice. I really do want X, and I would really like God to respond. After a quick jog along my new favorite stretch of the Mt. Vernon trail, I sat down at a shaded picnic table overlooking the Potomac. I stretched my list of Xs out in front of me, took a deep breath, and . . . realized that it was the most beautiful day I'd seen in months.
Thank you for the merciful respite from summer's heat. Thank you for the sweet promise of change this new autumn season brings. Thank you for a quiet moment to enjoy the beauty of the way the sunshine gets tangled in the tree leaves before shattering on the river's smooth surface. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
What was it that I wanted again?
A playful breeze picked up the piece of paper I had been scribbling on and sent my wish list floating toward the river, forcing me to literally chase after the things I wanted. My petitions were made, but they were made by a thankful heart, not an anxious one. God would have heard them either way. But this was a much more pleasant conversation.
i thank You God for most this amazing
i thank You God for most this amazing
day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky;and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes
(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun's birthday;this is the birth
day of life and of love and wings:and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)
how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any--lifted from the no
of all nothing--human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?
(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)
e.e. cummings
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
I still want X.
My evil twin (ET for short) is under the impression that God gives us what we want. We simply need to be bold with our prayers. As you may have noticed from my earlier post, I struggle with this concept . . . because experience has taught me that He doesn't.
"Oh, how thoughtful - more patience exercises! I know I asked for X, but patience is such a practical gift. I can't wait to try it out! Err, I mean, I'm quite content to sit here quietly and wait to use it until the appropriate moment presents itself . . ."
So what's going on in Matthew 7? Is God really promising - unconditionally - to grant my evil twin's random requests? Or, through the ask/seek/knock process, is God going to painstakingly show me that the things I naively think I want are just "stones" and give me some nutritious slices of whole wheat "bread" instead?
I don't know. Perhaps we're both wrong. (You knew I wasn't going to let ET be right, at any rate.)
I wish the following thoughts were mine, but the credit goes to Rob Bell, who more eloquently elaborates in his sermon "Ask, Seek, Knock." He explores the passage in question by applying the "ask" method to human relationships first:
How do we get other people to give us what we want? Sometimes, we try to manipulate their behavior by judging and condemning them. We shame them into action. Other times, we try to buy their behavior by bribing them with stuff. The more expensive the gift we lavish upon them, the more indebted they feel to us.
When we stop playing games with one another and simply ask for what we want, we honor the other person's free will. They can either say yes or no. When our request is honest, the choice is theirs. The outcome is uncertain, but the process is full of dignity and respect.
I play these games with God all the time. I taunt Him and I test Him ("If You really loved me, You wouldn't let me be so miserable."). I try to earn His favor ("Look, I'm fasting! Don't you want to bless me now?"). But He really just wants to have an honest conversation with me. When I ask, seek, and knock, I acknowledge that He is a sovereign entity, not some sort of supernatural vending machine.
I'm pretty interested in the outcome, but God seems more interested in the process. Maybe instead of asking and then waiting to be blessed, I should ask and then listen.
So, here we go again: God, I still want X.
"Oh, how thoughtful - more patience exercises! I know I asked for X, but patience is such a practical gift. I can't wait to try it out! Err, I mean, I'm quite content to sit here quietly and wait to use it until the appropriate moment presents itself . . ."
So what's going on in Matthew 7? Is God really promising - unconditionally - to grant my evil twin's random requests? Or, through the ask/seek/knock process, is God going to painstakingly show me that the things I naively think I want are just "stones" and give me some nutritious slices of whole wheat "bread" instead?
I don't know. Perhaps we're both wrong. (You knew I wasn't going to let ET be right, at any rate.)
I wish the following thoughts were mine, but the credit goes to Rob Bell, who more eloquently elaborates in his sermon "Ask, Seek, Knock." He explores the passage in question by applying the "ask" method to human relationships first:
How do we get other people to give us what we want? Sometimes, we try to manipulate their behavior by judging and condemning them. We shame them into action. Other times, we try to buy their behavior by bribing them with stuff. The more expensive the gift we lavish upon them, the more indebted they feel to us.
When we stop playing games with one another and simply ask for what we want, we honor the other person's free will. They can either say yes or no. When our request is honest, the choice is theirs. The outcome is uncertain, but the process is full of dignity and respect.
I play these games with God all the time. I taunt Him and I test Him ("If You really loved me, You wouldn't let me be so miserable."). I try to earn His favor ("Look, I'm fasting! Don't you want to bless me now?"). But He really just wants to have an honest conversation with me. When I ask, seek, and knock, I acknowledge that He is a sovereign entity, not some sort of supernatural vending machine.
I'm pretty interested in the outcome, but God seems more interested in the process. Maybe instead of asking and then waiting to be blessed, I should ask and then listen.
So, here we go again: God, I still want X.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
What is done and yet to come.
As I watched the sun set over the Atlantic this weekend, I spent some time thinking about the beauty that has been built into nature's rhythms: the mighty, living pulse of the ocean's waves; the slow and gentle slide of the sun from one horizon to the other; the shy twinkling of the stars, so quiet that you hardly notice them until they all but fill the sky and then meekly slip away, one by one; the determined rise of the tide, crawling steadily up the sun-dried sand until, its curiosity suddenly satisfied, it gives up and shrinks back from whence it came.
Welcome back to the rhythm of your regularly scheduled lives. I hope that you find beauty in both the rushing and the resting.
We will have love, we will have pain
There will be days and days and days that feel the same
We will have fear, we will have joy
And maybe little girls and little boys
We will have friends, we will have peace
There will be nights of lights and music 'til you sleep
We will be strong, we will still break
We'll live through so much more than we can take
Amen Amen
With the dawn, we all begin again
Amen Amen
What is done, and yet to come
Amen
We will have hope, we will have doubt
There will be memories we could never live without
We will have tears, but there will be grace
There will be prayers that we never thought we'd pray
Amen Amen
With the dawn, we all begin again
Amen Amen
What is done, and yet to come
Amen
In the sun or the storms, the flood or the flames
Let everything come, and I'm the one to blame
In heartache or hope I swear I'll say, I'll say
Amen Amen
With the dawn, we all begin again
Amen Amen
What is done, and yet to come
Amen
Welcome back to the rhythm of your regularly scheduled lives. I hope that you find beauty in both the rushing and the resting.
We will have love, we will have pain
There will be days and days and days that feel the same
We will have fear, we will have joy
And maybe little girls and little boys
We will have friends, we will have peace
There will be nights of lights and music 'til you sleep
We will be strong, we will still break
We'll live through so much more than we can take
Amen Amen
With the dawn, we all begin again
Amen Amen
What is done, and yet to come
Amen
We will have hope, we will have doubt
There will be memories we could never live without
We will have tears, but there will be grace
There will be prayers that we never thought we'd pray
Amen Amen
With the dawn, we all begin again
Amen Amen
What is done, and yet to come
Amen
In the sun or the storms, the flood or the flames
Let everything come, and I'm the one to blame
In heartache or hope I swear I'll say, I'll say
Amen Amen
With the dawn, we all begin again
Amen Amen
What is done, and yet to come
Amen
Friday, September 3, 2010
I want X.
My pastor challenged me earlier this week not to be so self-protective with my petitions to God. That was a kind way of saying, "Em, your prayer life is a little lame."
I believe that God does interact with us personally, and that He longs to give us good gifts - but my fear of His sovereignty cripples my ability to ask for anything too specific. Here's what usually happens:
Instead of trusting that the God who knit my heart together might actually want to bless me with the desires He stitched into it, I've ended up with a martyr complex.
It's much easier for me to say thank you than to say please. When I ask for something specific, there's a possibility that He'll reject my request or answer it in a way that feels disappointing. I always feel like I need to see something good happen before I'm willing to put myself out there.
But hope is not always born of blessings . . . Here's a challenge, from Romans 5:1-5:
In the midst of confusing and trying times, I should be even more confident that He is a good and loving Giver: out of suffering comes a hope that does not disappoint.
Well, here we go . . . Father, I want X. Amen.
I believe that God does interact with us personally, and that He longs to give us good gifts - but my fear of His sovereignty cripples my ability to ask for anything too specific. Here's what usually happens:
This can be a helpful exercise when the desires of my heart are suspect and need some questioning, but it doesn't really demonstrate trust. It's like I'm saying, "God, I believe that You are good, generally speaking . . . but I'm sure You're really busy with big picture stuff, so feel free to ignore me if that will hasten Your redemption of the world or something."1. God, You are good.a. Thanks for everything You've given me.b. It's more than I deserve.2. I want X . . .a. . . . but only if You want to give me X.b. I probably shouldn't even be asking for more stuff (see point 1b).3. If You don't want to give me X, please replace my desire for X with a desire for whatever it is You'd like to give me instead. Unless . . .a. . . .You'd rather give me nothing (see point 2b).b. . . .that somehow violates my free will and You don't actually intervene in our hearts that way. Oops, did I accidentally become a Calvinist again?4. I give up. Thy will be done!5. Amen.
Instead of trusting that the God who knit my heart together might actually want to bless me with the desires He stitched into it, I've ended up with a martyr complex.
It's much easier for me to say thank you than to say please. When I ask for something specific, there's a possibility that He'll reject my request or answer it in a way that feels disappointing. I always feel like I need to see something good happen before I'm willing to put myself out there.
But hope is not always born of blessings . . . Here's a challenge, from Romans 5:1-5:
Therefore, since we have been justified through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have gained access by faith into this grace in which we now stand. And we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us.Suffering --> perseverance --> character --> hope.
In the midst of confusing and trying times, I should be even more confident that He is a good and loving Giver: out of suffering comes a hope that does not disappoint.
Well, here we go . . . Father, I want X. Amen.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
An End To The Tuna Era
I sent this mock press release to my friends today. I thought it would be good press release writing practice. I now work for a public relations firm and writing press releases is something we do often. My experiences on Capitol Hill did not expose me to much press release writing. I felt the need to practice and share my recent decision with friends. I also just felt like being random and silly. Sometimes, I crack myself up.
S.R. LEAVES TUNA SANDWICHES BEHIND
For Immediate Release September 2, 2010
S.T.R
202-680-XXXX
Washington, DC - Today marks the day of a new era. S.R., age
27, will no longer consume tuna sandwiches from Subway or any vendor
that offers the delectable sandwiches. After reviewing the
nutritional contents of the sandwich online, she has determined that
tuna sandwiches are not worthy of consumption and several miles of
challenging exercise. The negative nutritional value significantly
outweighs the joy her taste buds experience and communicate to her
brain. In a press conference today, all by herself at her desk,
S. said:
"Goodbye tuna. It was fun while it lasted. This is an unfortunate
finding, but this step is necessary for my mental and physical well
being. I am saddened that our present national economic conditions
convinced me that the tuna sandwich was a wise dining choice.
However, I now know the truth. I must move on."
S.R. will now consider different sandwiches during her lunch
and dinner hours. She will make sure to carefully evaluate her
sandwich choices before purchasing. She wants to thank her family and
friends for their support.
--End--
###
S.R. LEAVES TUNA SANDWICHES BEHIND
For Immediate Release September 2, 2010
S.T.R
202-680-XXXX
Washington, DC - Today marks the day of a new era. S.R., age
27, will no longer consume tuna sandwiches from Subway or any vendor
that offers the delectable sandwiches. After reviewing the
nutritional contents of the sandwich online, she has determined that
tuna sandwiches are not worthy of consumption and several miles of
challenging exercise. The negative nutritional value significantly
outweighs the joy her taste buds experience and communicate to her
brain. In a press conference today, all by herself at her desk,
S. said:
"Goodbye tuna. It was fun while it lasted. This is an unfortunate
finding, but this step is necessary for my mental and physical well
being. I am saddened that our present national economic conditions
convinced me that the tuna sandwich was a wise dining choice.
However, I now know the truth. I must move on."
S.R. will now consider different sandwiches during her lunch
and dinner hours. She will make sure to carefully evaluate her
sandwich choices before purchasing. She wants to thank her family and
friends for their support.
--End--
###
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