Ruined

Last week I was hanging with my family when I heard a dramatic “OH NOOOOO!” come from my 4 year old nephew. I asked him what was wrong, and he feverishly explained “I got snot on my shirt, AND IT USED TO BE MY FAVORITE SHIRT TOO!!!” I looked at the patch on his shirt; casualty of an explosive sneeze. I laughed inside as I wet a paper napkin and dabbed the beloved shirt a few times. The piece of clothing, I believe, was salvageable.


The situation was a little funny, but at the same time, I can empathize with those same kind of panicked feelings. They can pop up unassumingly, catching you off guard during moments of weakness. Sometimes, I will be painting a picture, and the brush will glob on the wrong shade of blue, or accidently smear a crisp line that I had genuinely liked before it was “Ruined”. And I’ll be thinking “AHHHGGH, the whole painting is ruined!” “I’m not an artist; I’m a fake!” “I can’t paint!” So on, and so forth. If you could hear my screaming thoughts at these times, you’d say “pathetic”. Really.

Or sometimes I will get that same panicked feeling when a glass slips out of my hand because I was thinking about other things. By the time I hear the glass shattering I know there is no gluing that thing back together. Ruined. Broken. At least with the painting there was some hope, but this…

Sometimes I wonder if God chuckles at my drama. When I take the time to consider my life, words like “ruined” come all too quickly to my lips. Upsets and mistakes can make a life look unattractive, but life is not ruined no matter how bad it gets. God in his mercy can wash what we claim to be indelible ink. In addition, He gives us new mornings to work with. “Try again” He tells us... and we should.

Listless No More

Here are some of my favorite things, in no particular order:



Bagpipes and snare drums… played outside

Grasshopper cookies made by Keebler. They’re like Girl Scout Thin Mints, but not.

The effect of paint on canvas. Sometimes it does its own thing, and I’m okay with that.

Bubble baths. The type where the bubbles are mighty enough to form a bubble beard… and bubble eyebrows.

*

Tea. Especially on the days I feel cold and shivery.

A musical instrument in the hands of someone who knows how to play well. They don’t have to be a virtuoso necessarily, but someone who plays with heart and skill.

Applepie- homemade, just out of the oven, but cooled off slightly. A little cinnamon… not too much.

Movies that make me laugh, think, or that put some effort into unraveling a good story.

Penguins and Monkeys. Need I say more?

Travel- roadtrips, oversea trips, field trips, DQ trips

Walks- brisk, but slow enough you have time to think, pray or talk

Rollerblading

Super hero movies- Spiderman, X-man, Batman

Well written books

Current favorite color: Emerald. Runner up: Violet. Third favorite color: Bright Orange.

*I was going to put people on the list, but I think that would be kind of a polemic thing to do, because people technically are not “things”… they are… well, people.

The Song of The Redeemed

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to have an operatically trained voice. Perhaps you are rolling your eyes right now because you do not particularly care for opera, but picture a voice, YOUR voice, if it could reach earth shattering heights, and depths that would rearrange the bowels of the most sour-faced puddleglum out there. A voice that could NOT sing haphazard karaoke or that could ONLY just manage to squeak out a decent tune every now and again. But a voice that could make the simplest of melodies linger sweetly in the air. A voice that was malleable in your lungs, like clay that could be shaped into whatever you wished, presenting the harmonies in your head on a silver platter. And with garnish at that! And think what it would be like to have ears that matched the voice. Ears that could hear better, more intricate harmonies and that could weave them into complex tapestries with other ethereal voices.


I am hoping my heavenly voice and ears will have that capability someday.

To take this in a slightly different direction, these following verses are of interest to me:

Rev 14:3-5 TLB

3 This tremendous choir-144,000 strong-sang a wonderful new song in front of the throne of God and before the four Living Beings and the twenty-four Elders; and no one could sing this song except those 144,000 who had been redeemed from the earth. 4 For they are spiritually undefiled, pure as virgins, following the Lamb wherever he goes. They have been purchased from among the men on the earth as a consecrated offering to God and the Lamb. 5 No falsehood can be charged against them; they are blameless.

When you think about it, this special choir has some serious competition in heaven, but not even Seraphs will be able to pick up this tune and hum along. It is either off limits to the angels, or maybe they just won’t be able to muster up enough soul to do it justice. It is the song of the redeemed. It makes me wonder what will make this new song so very special. Is it the singers themselves, or is it the song writing behind it? It could just simply be the song writer Himself. Actually I think that will be a big part of what makes it so marvelous. That choir will be singing about redemption from a clear perspective. Not as slaves freshly bought off the market, who treat their master with disdain. The disdain coming from the unarticulated belief that he paid too little for them, not really fathoming the full price of the purchase. And the song won’t come from the lips of slaves who think he paid too much for them. Slaves who do not let it sink in that they are actually worth something now that they are in the possession of the new master. But the song will be uttered from the lips of blood-bought overcomers who finally understand with a clear perspective the astonishing proceedings behind their purchase.

It’s going to be a different show altogether, this upcoming celestial event- new eyes; new ears; beautiful new voices. Aged Instruments that have been through the ringer, and survived. And more than just survived! The individual voices making up the choir are going to make the likes of Sarah Brightman sound like the older version of Janis Joplin in comparison. It's going to be fantastic. Not a spectacle you want to miss!

Veni, Vidi, Vici

I was looking at an html tutorial site, and the three sentences at the top of the page caught my eye and drew out their respective responses (which I have included in ( ) ):
With HTML you can create your own Web site.       (I believe that)




This tutorial teaches you everything about HTML.     (ok... maybe)



HTML is easy to learn - You will enjoy it                 (I doubt it)

I Hear Ya!

     Last night I was talking to a friend, and midway into the conversation I could tell I had completely lost them. Their eyes were semi-glazed over, and I could tell their thoughts were far away; maybe dwelling on a bit of homework, or perhaps setting sail on a dream vacation. I undoubtedly was beating a subject to death; undoubtedly rambling, but afterwards I was just glad I wasn’t spilling my guts, talking about anything of consequence. That could have been really… (raising the pitch of my voice) AWKWARD!

     That incident reminded me of other experiences in my past, but situations that were on the opposite side of the spectrum. Times when I spoke at the podium in the middle of a hot debate, and where I knew that everything coming out of my mouth was being heavily weighed, judged, and possibly skewed in abbreviated form on somebody’s debate flow. I knew my competition was listening to what I said, but usually with the degree of kindness and painful precision of somebody anticipating my immediate death and destruction. It’s good to be heard… I guess.

     A few weeks ago, I shared the story of Elijah on Mount Carmel with my Sunday school kids. The verse that recounts Elijah taunting the Baal worshipers (1 Kings 18:27) always strikes me as funny. I’m sure those prophets were shooting Elijah dirty looks as they were slicing themselves and dancing like they had never danced before. Elijah was suggesting that their god, Baal, couldn’t hear them because he was either deep in thought, busy traveling, on the pot, or taking a nap. The situation would have been worth a picture. It’s definitely funny, but sad at the same time. It is sad because it’s true. Their god couldn’t hear them! Not the handicap you want when you are having a show down between deities.

     To me, one of the most comforting things found in scripture is that our God hears us (Micah 7:7). Not just when we are voicing something interesting. Not just when our life is on the line. And not with the ear of someone intent of doing us in if we don’t say things correctly. And God doesn’t just hear us, He responds too: sometimes by withholding rain, or through the medium of fire and earthquakes, sometimes simply through whispers. And frankly, that’s kind of cool. I like that.

Hmmm... interesting

I am in the throws of looking for a job again- just something part time. I was looking through the classified section of the newspaper when I came across an ad for a secretarial position for a church with ideal hours and pay. I've been skimming their website to see what kind of a place it is, and I thought I'd share a few highlights.

They don't have a purpose statement, but they do have 7 principles they live by:

-The inherent worth and dignity of every person
-Justice, equity, and compassion in human relations
-Acceptance of one another and encouragement to spiritual growth in our congregations
-A free and responsible search for truth and meaning
-The right of conscience and the use of the democratic process within our congregations and in society at large
-The goal of world community with peace, liberty, and justice for all
-Respect for the interdependent web of all existence of which we are a part

There was a A and Q section for the website, and this one caught my notice:

Q: Is this some kind of cult?

A: No! If anything, it is the opposite of the mind control that characterizes cults.

Does that set your mind at ease? Here's another question. This one is in answer to how I could become a member:

There are two requirements for membership: 1) Sign the membership book, and 2) make a donation with your name attached to it (the amount is up to you). Joining any religious organization is a big decision, so we have literature on the subject, introductory classes, and lots of people who would be delighted to respond to your questions.

So, what do you think? Should I apply? ...and yes, if you guessed it was a universalist church you get the prize for the day.

Pursuant

There is a couple in one of my immediate circles who were just recently engaged. It was a bit of a surprise (to everyone actually, including some of their closest friends) because the couple never dated. Even up to the point where the man popped the question with the ring in hand they were “just friends”. The situation fits them. I am happy for them, and do not want to squelch their unique story, but it definitely reads differently than most romances I have witnessed.

There is something kind of fun about watching a man trying to win a girl’s heart. Some, it seems, use their wits and creativity. Other guys act cocky, or maybe they are just plain persistent, not accepting the word “no” to mean no. For the record, I am not being pursued. I have my theories as to why, of course: too intimidating, not intimidating enough, too tall, too short, I have yellow teeth (I drink a lot of tea *sheepish grin*), too shy, too confident… the list goes on. You may have some of your own theories (family members do not need to comment on this one :p)

However, I think The Art of Pursuing goes up a level in my mind, when the target of the one pursuing isn’t really all that lovely. Or maybe they are lovely, in their own way, but it is not very obvious to anybody else. The pursuit takes place because of some secret phenomenal reason only the pursuer knows. Maybe some witnesses know too, but the reasons behind the pursuit are rooted deeper than surface level.

You are probably familiar with the poem entitled the Hound of Heaven by Francis Thompson. Recently I have been reading a book called Why I Am a Christian, by John Stott, and in his first chapter he talks about how God has been the Hound of Heaven in different individual’s lives. An excerpt from some of C.S. Lewis’ writings stood out to me:

“The prodigal Son at least walked home on his own feet. But who can duly adore that Love which will open the high gates to a prodigal who is brought in kicking, struggling, resentful, and darting his eyes in every direction for a chance of escape?... The hardness of God is kinder than the softness of men, and His compulsion is our liberation.”

Stott also uses some of Augustine of Hippo’s writings before and after Augustine came to Christ. Here is a clip from that:

“Augustine attributed his experience to the sheer grace that is the free and unmerited favor of God. He claimed that God had quickened all five of his spiritual senses- hearing, sight, smell, taste and touch.

‘You called and cried out loud and shattered my deafness. You were radiant and resplendent, you put to flight my blindness. You were fragrant, and I drew in my breath and now pant after you. I tasted you, and I feel but hunger and thirst for you. You touched me, and I am set on fire to attain the peace which is yours.’”

C.S. Lewis, Augustine and John Stott all had deep experiences because of the pursuit of the Hound of Heaven. Reading through different accounts of this happening reminded me that God pursues the unlovely, the prodigals and those who are kicking and screaming. Earlier in this post I said I wasn’t being pursued, but in actuality, I guess I am. I am, and so are you.