If today was the Judgment, I am sure that I'd be chaffed with most of humanity. When I see what it is that Our Lord calls for us to do, I am sure that I am not even close to being considered near the top 10% of humanity in regards to that summons. There are many, indeed, who do not even know Christ who are much better Christians than I will ever be. But as my year end assessment begins and I focus on the areas that are much in need of improvement for next year, I am certain of one thing - hope. I have received an abundance of it this year and I carry forth its remnants into a new year filled with its afterglow. Hope will be my banner for next year.
I am still way too selfish. Jesus's words convict me constantly. I am not anywhere near like the beggar woman with her two small coins. I retain far too much wealth for myself and spend it foolishly on things and needs that I do not require. It seems as if the more I try to disentangle myself from this consumerist society, the more I fall lock step with it. Though my not purchasing a PlayStation 3 or Wii should count for something ;) Yet, I have hope that I might break free of the cycle that has kept me from spending wisely and that has encouraged my overspending. I have hope that I shall learn not to need so much of this gift that has been given to me and that I might find a way to put more of it to His use.
My heart is still too dark with thoughts and feelings that are not worthy of inclusion in Heaven. I wish to embrace the love of Christ and to be its conduit to the world. But the vast amount of love I receive remains locked inside of me - there to heal my own wounded heart. I hope to be mended so that I might mend. I hope to love, so that I might be loved. I hope to cast away the fear and the pain that has kept me in dark places. I hope to forgive, truly, and not to carry dark thoughts with me. I hope to go forth and sin no more.
I have great hope. On my birthday, I prayed for a gift that was real and I was filled with God's love for me and for the world. It lightened my soul like a solar tower in a coal mine. I bounced for a week before I felt the lightness slip from me and I became burdened again with the world. And again, this Christmas, I prayed for a glimmer of hope and there she was with a smile meant just for me - a bright spot on a gloomy day. A glimmer and nothing more, but a promise of things to come, a sign for my soul of a path on which I am about to embark. A spark just bright enough to give me a flicker of the world to be and to light a fire within my soul. Hope is a wonderful thing.
Faith is the assurance of things hoped for. And I have had my faith rekindled in hope. Sometimes we all need a glimpse of that for which we strive - a vision, a smell, a touch, a sound, a taste of the one truth. That hope is enough to brace us for the battles to come.
I am not there yet. I have a long way to go. But I have every hope that I will be there in the end.
May 2007 be better than 2006 for you and all your kin.
Will Robison
Thursday, December 28, 2006
Tuesday, December 26, 2006
Peace on Earth
Even in Hawaii, war is a bad place.
I spent Gulf War One in a barracks in Hawaii. On a daily basis, I'd get up from bed around 4pm, shower, get dressed, grab a bite to eat, and head to my intelligence building to work. We worked from roughly 6pm to 6am every day. My job was the analysis of satellite imagery from the Gulf region. It had been my job for nearly two years at that point, but until GW1, nobody had ever paid any attention to it. All of a sudden, with the start of hostilities, I was briefing Admirals and watching my analysis show up on CNN. Interesting stuff.
We were not directly a target. Fleet Headquarters shared the same complex as us. We were the eyes, ears, and brains of the entire Pacific Fleet. When hostilities started, our threat level assessment went to the highest you can get without patrolling dogs, machine gun posts, etc... While most of the country was unaware of the dangers we faced in the United States from terrorism, we were very aware of our surroundings and suspicious activities in our area. Fear, while not great, was a presence.
Our work load increased as the ground war got closer. We were now engaged in real hostilities in a part of the world. We stopped looking for the sake of looking and started looking for real danger. Missing something that was right there in front of us was not an option. Threats had to be found and eliminated. Failure meant death for our friends and fellow soldiers. Compared to that, what is real life? Stress levels soared. Fatigue soared. More than one sailor in our building lost it and found themselves hospitalized from nervous breakdowns.
Drinking was rampant. Destressing became a priority. I was not immune from this behavior. After nearly punching a Lieutenant out, I went home and smashed my fist into a wall several times. The pain calmed me down a great deal. I nearly broke my leg kicking a chair during a Nintendo session. I steered clear of any additional stress. Christmas came and went. It was not my happiest holiday that year. As the war dragged on, there was a real possibility that I would be forced to stay in the military longer than I had anticipated and possibly miss the fall semester of college the next year.
When the day of the greatest battle arrived and I sat listening to a blow by blow account of helicopters massacring tanks and trucks and troops with hellfire missiles, I cheered their destruction. Iraqi soldiers, teenagers not much younger or older than me, were being torn to shreds - their lives being snuffed out - as I cheered on their end. It was not my brightest moment, but it was a great reliever of stress.
War is hell. When you tell young people to kill each other for nebulous reasons, how can it not be? It is a situation that we should always avoid at all costs and should never be entered into lightly. But beyond the emotional, mental, and spiritual anguish it causes, war also takes other tolls.
I returned home from GW1 a changed person. Its hard not to be pushed to the brink and not be changed. Within six months, my fiancee and I had broken up. Part of it was just normal young love coming to an end, but part of it was what the Gulf War had done to me. And I hadn't even come close to the combat zones.
I am reminded of all this because a young man I know through an acquaintance returned home from a tour of Baghdad. For six months he was deployed inside Baghdad, learning to kill or be killed. It was a hard tour for him. He was required to machine gun a man who had done nothing more than hold a cell phone - because that is a tactic used by Al Qaeda. Killing this cell phone man saved him and his comrades. As punishment, Al Qaeda killed the man's family because of his failure to detonate the road side bomb. Five innocent people were killed in one afternoon. It is quite a burden to place on one person's soul - the death of five people, the stress of nearly being killed, the knowledge that you have taken someone else from this world. This young man returned home a couple of weeks ago and found out that his wife wanted a divorce.
People who have never fought in a war or been in the military during a war can never know that everyone in uniform makes sacrifices - that we all suffer, and that you, the citizens who authorize the war, suffer as well. We put ourselves in this situation again and again - and like crazy people we expect a different outcome each time. But war is never succesful. Never. It is always a failure. Every time, no matter the outcome. It is a failure of vision, of faith, and of love.
What I most want for Christmas this year is Peace on Earth. Or, at the very least, less war.
I spent Gulf War One in a barracks in Hawaii. On a daily basis, I'd get up from bed around 4pm, shower, get dressed, grab a bite to eat, and head to my intelligence building to work. We worked from roughly 6pm to 6am every day. My job was the analysis of satellite imagery from the Gulf region. It had been my job for nearly two years at that point, but until GW1, nobody had ever paid any attention to it. All of a sudden, with the start of hostilities, I was briefing Admirals and watching my analysis show up on CNN. Interesting stuff.
We were not directly a target. Fleet Headquarters shared the same complex as us. We were the eyes, ears, and brains of the entire Pacific Fleet. When hostilities started, our threat level assessment went to the highest you can get without patrolling dogs, machine gun posts, etc... While most of the country was unaware of the dangers we faced in the United States from terrorism, we were very aware of our surroundings and suspicious activities in our area. Fear, while not great, was a presence.
Our work load increased as the ground war got closer. We were now engaged in real hostilities in a part of the world. We stopped looking for the sake of looking and started looking for real danger. Missing something that was right there in front of us was not an option. Threats had to be found and eliminated. Failure meant death for our friends and fellow soldiers. Compared to that, what is real life? Stress levels soared. Fatigue soared. More than one sailor in our building lost it and found themselves hospitalized from nervous breakdowns.
Drinking was rampant. Destressing became a priority. I was not immune from this behavior. After nearly punching a Lieutenant out, I went home and smashed my fist into a wall several times. The pain calmed me down a great deal. I nearly broke my leg kicking a chair during a Nintendo session. I steered clear of any additional stress. Christmas came and went. It was not my happiest holiday that year. As the war dragged on, there was a real possibility that I would be forced to stay in the military longer than I had anticipated and possibly miss the fall semester of college the next year.
When the day of the greatest battle arrived and I sat listening to a blow by blow account of helicopters massacring tanks and trucks and troops with hellfire missiles, I cheered their destruction. Iraqi soldiers, teenagers not much younger or older than me, were being torn to shreds - their lives being snuffed out - as I cheered on their end. It was not my brightest moment, but it was a great reliever of stress.
War is hell. When you tell young people to kill each other for nebulous reasons, how can it not be? It is a situation that we should always avoid at all costs and should never be entered into lightly. But beyond the emotional, mental, and spiritual anguish it causes, war also takes other tolls.
I returned home from GW1 a changed person. Its hard not to be pushed to the brink and not be changed. Within six months, my fiancee and I had broken up. Part of it was just normal young love coming to an end, but part of it was what the Gulf War had done to me. And I hadn't even come close to the combat zones.
I am reminded of all this because a young man I know through an acquaintance returned home from a tour of Baghdad. For six months he was deployed inside Baghdad, learning to kill or be killed. It was a hard tour for him. He was required to machine gun a man who had done nothing more than hold a cell phone - because that is a tactic used by Al Qaeda. Killing this cell phone man saved him and his comrades. As punishment, Al Qaeda killed the man's family because of his failure to detonate the road side bomb. Five innocent people were killed in one afternoon. It is quite a burden to place on one person's soul - the death of five people, the stress of nearly being killed, the knowledge that you have taken someone else from this world. This young man returned home a couple of weeks ago and found out that his wife wanted a divorce.
People who have never fought in a war or been in the military during a war can never know that everyone in uniform makes sacrifices - that we all suffer, and that you, the citizens who authorize the war, suffer as well. We put ourselves in this situation again and again - and like crazy people we expect a different outcome each time. But war is never succesful. Never. It is always a failure. Every time, no matter the outcome. It is a failure of vision, of faith, and of love.
What I most want for Christmas this year is Peace on Earth. Or, at the very least, less war.
Thursday, December 21, 2006
I know...
"I'm now writing scenes that have been planned, in some cases, for a dozen years or even more," she (J.K. Rowling) wrote. "I don't think anyone who has not been in a similar situation can possibly know how this feels: I am alternately elated and overwrought. I both want, and don't want, to finish this book (don't worry, I will.)"
J.K. Rowling announced the name of her 7th and final Harry Potter book today - Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows. In making the announcement on her website, she included the above quote and another about dreaming about her character. I can't say that I've ever dreamt about my characters before, so I know what she means when she says that until recently she had never done that.
The point I wanted to make is something that I discovered about 15 years ago that was a great encouragement to me. Writers all have pretty much the same mind. Our minds work relatively the same with respect to writing and to how we view the world. For non-writers, I would imagine there are some similarities, but since I am a writer, I'll just have to guess at how your brains work. When J.K. Rowling talks about writing, I'm right there - been there, done that.
I can't begin to understand how someone creates music. I look at notes on a page and to me, they are just dots. I know higher dots represent higher notes. I know about keys and accidentals and how to read music. But still, the dots don't translate into a tune in my head. Musicians, on the other hand, look at the dots and hear - HEAR - a tune in their heads. Imagine that! I can't even begin to wonder at such an amazing skill and I've been around music almost my entire life as both a singer and handbell player.
Linguists can not only translate words from another language instantaneously in their minds, but can respond and think in other languages. Again, this is a skill I do not possess. I imagine that Barry Bonds sees a baseball much better than you and I, that Michael Jordan can elevate and dunk like we only imagine doing, that Frank Gore sees holes in crowds of people the way my brother can find a perfect parking space with his eyes practically shut. These are skills that some people have and the rest of us can only imagine.
Writing, however, is a skill that everyone uses on an almost daily basis. Hi, how are you? I'm fine and you? Great. BRB. And all that stuff. We all write. We all communicate. So what sets a writer apart from Joe Schmoe on the street? What is the difference between you and, say, J.K. Rowling besides a bazillion dollars?
We are writers. We come from a long line of writers. We are mentally no different than Dante, or Chaucer, or Shakespeare, or Homer. We get an idea in our head, and like the musician, a story plays out before us in a flash. There is no concentration involved. There is barely any effort. This is just the way we view ideas - as stories. We do not choose to be this way. There is no test, no class you can take, no training for this ability. You are or you are not. And I suspect that there are just as many writers who are published as there are writers who are not published. And just as many people who have written a book who are not writers as there are people who have not written a book who are writers. Being a writer is not the same thing as being an author.
So to J.K. Rowling I say, "I know." I know what its like to sit up until the late hours of the morning crafting a scene that has been sitting in your mind since the mid 1980's. I know its frustrations and its pleasures; its addictive qualities and its destructive ones. I both want to finish and don't want to finish my book. I both love it and hate it at the same time. One minute its the greatest thing since sliced bread, the next its the biggest pile of fecal matter ever excreted by one human being. I know all of these things.
Now all I need to do is finish and make as much money as J.K. and we'll be practically the same person. ;)
J.K. Rowling announced the name of her 7th and final Harry Potter book today - Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows. In making the announcement on her website, she included the above quote and another about dreaming about her character. I can't say that I've ever dreamt about my characters before, so I know what she means when she says that until recently she had never done that.
The point I wanted to make is something that I discovered about 15 years ago that was a great encouragement to me. Writers all have pretty much the same mind. Our minds work relatively the same with respect to writing and to how we view the world. For non-writers, I would imagine there are some similarities, but since I am a writer, I'll just have to guess at how your brains work. When J.K. Rowling talks about writing, I'm right there - been there, done that.
I can't begin to understand how someone creates music. I look at notes on a page and to me, they are just dots. I know higher dots represent higher notes. I know about keys and accidentals and how to read music. But still, the dots don't translate into a tune in my head. Musicians, on the other hand, look at the dots and hear - HEAR - a tune in their heads. Imagine that! I can't even begin to wonder at such an amazing skill and I've been around music almost my entire life as both a singer and handbell player.
Linguists can not only translate words from another language instantaneously in their minds, but can respond and think in other languages. Again, this is a skill I do not possess. I imagine that Barry Bonds sees a baseball much better than you and I, that Michael Jordan can elevate and dunk like we only imagine doing, that Frank Gore sees holes in crowds of people the way my brother can find a perfect parking space with his eyes practically shut. These are skills that some people have and the rest of us can only imagine.
Writing, however, is a skill that everyone uses on an almost daily basis. Hi, how are you? I'm fine and you? Great. BRB. And all that stuff. We all write. We all communicate. So what sets a writer apart from Joe Schmoe on the street? What is the difference between you and, say, J.K. Rowling besides a bazillion dollars?
We are writers. We come from a long line of writers. We are mentally no different than Dante, or Chaucer, or Shakespeare, or Homer. We get an idea in our head, and like the musician, a story plays out before us in a flash. There is no concentration involved. There is barely any effort. This is just the way we view ideas - as stories. We do not choose to be this way. There is no test, no class you can take, no training for this ability. You are or you are not. And I suspect that there are just as many writers who are published as there are writers who are not published. And just as many people who have written a book who are not writers as there are people who have not written a book who are writers. Being a writer is not the same thing as being an author.
So to J.K. Rowling I say, "I know." I know what its like to sit up until the late hours of the morning crafting a scene that has been sitting in your mind since the mid 1980's. I know its frustrations and its pleasures; its addictive qualities and its destructive ones. I both want to finish and don't want to finish my book. I both love it and hate it at the same time. One minute its the greatest thing since sliced bread, the next its the biggest pile of fecal matter ever excreted by one human being. I know all of these things.
Now all I need to do is finish and make as much money as J.K. and we'll be practically the same person. ;)
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
Filters
Once again, my inbox is filling up with spam messages as my filters are out of alignment with the latest attacks from unseen forces. Spam filters work by looking for particular patterns of popular spam subject lines and then, when finding those subjects listed, they target and eliminate the message so that it never actually reaches me. Every once in a while, however, a new paradigm is discovered and spammers find their way around the filters to send me new messages again and again and again. I get tired of it - ignoring their frequent calls for my attention - and I delete them the second I see them. But I have to give them grudging credit for being smarter than my filter, even if it is annoying dealing with them.
The latest spam messages I've been getting, especially as we get closer to December 25th, are all these messages someone keeps sending me with the subject line, "Behold, Unto You Is Born This Day In The City of David." I've been deleting that one as soon as I see it. Who has time to read things like that when there's Christmas shopping to be done? And another annoying message, "Do unto others, as you would have them do unto you," is just a troll, I'm sure, for my money. I don't even let that one into my inbox. I try to destroy it before I even have to deal with it. Nasty business. But the worst of all is the one that says, "For God so loved the world." Have they no shame? Do they not realize its the holidays? Can't they see that this kind of spam will only have a negative impact on the GNP of the United States and might keep this great country from its several trillions of dollars in profit made during this season of the year!?
I can't believe that there is some great mysterious entity out there sending me all this spam and that we haven't found this person and dealt with him. He ought to be crucified I tell you! Or, at the very least, a better filter must be invented so that I don't have to listen to him any more. His spam messages can be most annoying during this season when I'm trying to enjoy the holidays.
That's all I've got time to say, because I need to rush out to the store and pick up some last minute sale items from the 70% off sale. I think there's a light up Santa that I can add to my Christmas light display next year. Then I ought to show my neighbors what for during the contest for best Christmas decorations. I'll show them what the Christmas spirit is all about!
See you later. Have a happy holiday.
The latest spam messages I've been getting, especially as we get closer to December 25th, are all these messages someone keeps sending me with the subject line, "Behold, Unto You Is Born This Day In The City of David." I've been deleting that one as soon as I see it. Who has time to read things like that when there's Christmas shopping to be done? And another annoying message, "Do unto others, as you would have them do unto you," is just a troll, I'm sure, for my money. I don't even let that one into my inbox. I try to destroy it before I even have to deal with it. Nasty business. But the worst of all is the one that says, "For God so loved the world." Have they no shame? Do they not realize its the holidays? Can't they see that this kind of spam will only have a negative impact on the GNP of the United States and might keep this great country from its several trillions of dollars in profit made during this season of the year!?
I can't believe that there is some great mysterious entity out there sending me all this spam and that we haven't found this person and dealt with him. He ought to be crucified I tell you! Or, at the very least, a better filter must be invented so that I don't have to listen to him any more. His spam messages can be most annoying during this season when I'm trying to enjoy the holidays.
That's all I've got time to say, because I need to rush out to the store and pick up some last minute sale items from the 70% off sale. I think there's a light up Santa that I can add to my Christmas light display next year. Then I ought to show my neighbors what for during the contest for best Christmas decorations. I'll show them what the Christmas spirit is all about!
See you later. Have a happy holiday.
Monday, December 18, 2006
My God is thick and scaly.
Sometimes, we are all blind people walking around a large elephant trying to describe it with our limited sensations. But, I think, most of the time we are just blind people bumping again and again into something that we can't see, feel, or even understand - but it keeps getting in our way, forcing us to change course, always challenging us to know it and to describe it. This is God.
I am getting close to another breakthrough. I can feel it. The ideas are starting to pour out thick and scaly in my brain. Another glimpse, another sighting - I keep running into this invisible thing and I've only just now connected that all these ideas are pointing to the same source. They seem so disconnected, so disjointed, but when I dig deeper, I realize that they are describing the same thing.
But I'm not there yet. I need to bump into this thing a few more times before a picture gels in my brain and I am able to paint it for you with words. So, until then, have a great day.
And look out for invisible things.
I am getting close to another breakthrough. I can feel it. The ideas are starting to pour out thick and scaly in my brain. Another glimpse, another sighting - I keep running into this invisible thing and I've only just now connected that all these ideas are pointing to the same source. They seem so disconnected, so disjointed, but when I dig deeper, I realize that they are describing the same thing.
But I'm not there yet. I need to bump into this thing a few more times before a picture gels in my brain and I am able to paint it for you with words. So, until then, have a great day.
And look out for invisible things.
Friday, December 15, 2006
Into each life...
To borrow from Bill Cosby...
"Mary, this is God."
"God?"
"Yes, Mary. Behold, you have been given a great gift."
"A gift, God? That's very kind of you."
"You are going to carry the Son of God and bring him into the world."
"Carry? Like a basket?"
"No, Mary... you are going to become pregnant."
(Pause)
"Right.... who is this, really?"
We can see the end of the story from hindsight only. Mary becomes Jesus's mother and everything turns out relatively alright for her. But, at the time, I'm sure she was just a tad freaked out, upset, and maybe a little bit distressed about the prospect of not only being a mother, but being a virgin mother, and a virgin mother of the Son of God. I'm guessing that this was not part of her plans. I'm guessing it was more than just a little inconvenient. I'm really guessing that the timing could have probably been better. And yet, she accepted it, lived with it, and moved on.
Have you ever noticed that when a particularly bad storm finishes with us, the world looks a lot clearer afterwards? To be sure, the wind and the rain scour the atmosphere and drench the trees. Pollen, dust, smog - all these things disappear and the air is clear afterwards. We can see things the way they're meant to be seen, if only for a little while before the air begins to get dirty again. But there is also a kind of seeing that only comes to us when things have been particularly nasty and our field of vision has narrowed so far that for a brief time the only thing that matters to us is the survival of those we love. The wind and the rain and all that the world can offer scours away the detritus of our lives until we are left with a clear vision and see things the way they're meant to be seen.
Some people see valleys as places where mountains go to die, others see valleys as the places where mountains begin to rise.
I've been sick the past couple of days. In fact, my whole family has been fighting the same illness. When I was much younger I coined the phrase that if neccesity was the mother of invention, sickness was surely its father. When we are sick we are usually left with one task to do - get better - which gives our mind time to empty of unimportant and unneccesary thoughts and feelings. We focus on the immediate. We focus on the imperative. We let the little details go. There is a sharpness that comes to us in being sick. There is a desire to survive the storm.
We accept it. We live with it. We move on.
I was searching for a single meaning in Jesus's birth as their is such a significant meaning in Jesus's death and resurrection. But I can't find a single meaning. As with all hopes, each person's meaning is a little different. Faith is the assurance of things hoped for. And Jesus's birth heralds the arrival of hope and the blessings of faith. You ask for an answer to faith and I can point you to Jesus's birth - there is the answer to faith.
It doesn't come easy. But it comes. That is all we need to know or to believe.
"Mary, this is God."
"God?"
"Yes, Mary. Behold, you have been given a great gift."
"A gift, God? That's very kind of you."
"You are going to carry the Son of God and bring him into the world."
"Carry? Like a basket?"
"No, Mary... you are going to become pregnant."
(Pause)
"Right.... who is this, really?"
We can see the end of the story from hindsight only. Mary becomes Jesus's mother and everything turns out relatively alright for her. But, at the time, I'm sure she was just a tad freaked out, upset, and maybe a little bit distressed about the prospect of not only being a mother, but being a virgin mother, and a virgin mother of the Son of God. I'm guessing that this was not part of her plans. I'm guessing it was more than just a little inconvenient. I'm really guessing that the timing could have probably been better. And yet, she accepted it, lived with it, and moved on.
Have you ever noticed that when a particularly bad storm finishes with us, the world looks a lot clearer afterwards? To be sure, the wind and the rain scour the atmosphere and drench the trees. Pollen, dust, smog - all these things disappear and the air is clear afterwards. We can see things the way they're meant to be seen, if only for a little while before the air begins to get dirty again. But there is also a kind of seeing that only comes to us when things have been particularly nasty and our field of vision has narrowed so far that for a brief time the only thing that matters to us is the survival of those we love. The wind and the rain and all that the world can offer scours away the detritus of our lives until we are left with a clear vision and see things the way they're meant to be seen.
Some people see valleys as places where mountains go to die, others see valleys as the places where mountains begin to rise.
I've been sick the past couple of days. In fact, my whole family has been fighting the same illness. When I was much younger I coined the phrase that if neccesity was the mother of invention, sickness was surely its father. When we are sick we are usually left with one task to do - get better - which gives our mind time to empty of unimportant and unneccesary thoughts and feelings. We focus on the immediate. We focus on the imperative. We let the little details go. There is a sharpness that comes to us in being sick. There is a desire to survive the storm.
We accept it. We live with it. We move on.
I was searching for a single meaning in Jesus's birth as their is such a significant meaning in Jesus's death and resurrection. But I can't find a single meaning. As with all hopes, each person's meaning is a little different. Faith is the assurance of things hoped for. And Jesus's birth heralds the arrival of hope and the blessings of faith. You ask for an answer to faith and I can point you to Jesus's birth - there is the answer to faith.
It doesn't come easy. But it comes. That is all we need to know or to believe.
Thursday, December 14, 2006
Mysteries of Faith Part Two - Where Is God?
For what seems like thousands of years, God walked along with the Hebrew people, offering them covenants, wiping out their enemies, dwelling inside their temples, choosing their judges and kings, chastising them, sending prophets to them, punishing them, and then, finally, making Himself flesh amongst them. Since then - bumpkis.
It is a challenge of my faith to accept that God is active in my life in a way that is as meaningful as it was to, say, the average Jewish citizen during the Exodus, because I can not see God, can not hear God, can not feel God, and don't get to see God wipe out the entire Egyptian army. Perhaps its my love of big budget movies, but where are the Special Effects? Where are the plagues? Where is the speaking of tongues, the flames over peoples heads, the prophet who rises up and tells us to repent?
Or am I just not listening? Am I just not seeing? Is our media coverage that poor that they fail to mention that the Egyptian army was wiped out crossing the Red Sea today?
It seems as if God left Earth after ACTS and said, "You're all on your own now, until I return."
Or, you might say that God wasn't finished with us and sent the Prophet Mohammed.
Or, you might say that God wasn't finished with us and explained the truth to the Mormons.
I guess the question is, where is God? Where should we look for Him? And just what would it take for Him to make Himself known to us?
It is a challenge of my faith to accept that God is active in my life in a way that is as meaningful as it was to, say, the average Jewish citizen during the Exodus, because I can not see God, can not hear God, can not feel God, and don't get to see God wipe out the entire Egyptian army. Perhaps its my love of big budget movies, but where are the Special Effects? Where are the plagues? Where is the speaking of tongues, the flames over peoples heads, the prophet who rises up and tells us to repent?
Or am I just not listening? Am I just not seeing? Is our media coverage that poor that they fail to mention that the Egyptian army was wiped out crossing the Red Sea today?
It seems as if God left Earth after ACTS and said, "You're all on your own now, until I return."
Or, you might say that God wasn't finished with us and sent the Prophet Mohammed.
Or, you might say that God wasn't finished with us and explained the truth to the Mormons.
I guess the question is, where is God? Where should we look for Him? And just what would it take for Him to make Himself known to us?
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
Here's what I'd like to see...
I realize that when it comes to God we don't live in a democracy. We don't get to vote about what is acceptable and what is not acceptable in God's eyes... except that we do. There are all sorts of things that we no longer think are acceptable that were acceptable at the time of Jesus, and vice versa. We are dependent then on the foremost religious thinkers of our times to talk amongst themselves in a civilized and passionate discourse in order to determine the will of God for the rest of us.
That being said...
I'd like a national debate on national TV (PBS or some such). I'd get Charlie Rose to moderate. On one side of the table I'd have several "progressive" Christians who believe that being gay is not something that we should be shunning. And on the other side, I'd have several "conservative" Christians who stick to their guns that Gays are sinners. I wouldn't allow politics or Gay rights advocates or anyone else into the debate. This would be a strictly religious debate amongst the top Christians on either side of the issue.
I'd ask them three questions. 1) In light of what the Bible says, is homosexuality a sin? 2) How should we behave towards homosexual people? 3) Given your answers to number one and two, what should people who are gay do if they are also Christians?
Considering the train wreck that is national gay rights policy, it behooves Christian Americans to answer these questions before we discover a) that we're living in Sodom and Gomorrah or b) we start building nice "summer" camps for Gay people with mandatory attendance. Since there are extreme advocates for both views, I can see us adopting a more middle of the road course.
The point is that so far I've only heard rhetoric on both sides of the argument. I'd like to hear a compelling argument either way that would help me make up my mind.
That's what I'd like to see.
That being said...
I'd like a national debate on national TV (PBS or some such). I'd get Charlie Rose to moderate. On one side of the table I'd have several "progressive" Christians who believe that being gay is not something that we should be shunning. And on the other side, I'd have several "conservative" Christians who stick to their guns that Gays are sinners. I wouldn't allow politics or Gay rights advocates or anyone else into the debate. This would be a strictly religious debate amongst the top Christians on either side of the issue.
I'd ask them three questions. 1) In light of what the Bible says, is homosexuality a sin? 2) How should we behave towards homosexual people? 3) Given your answers to number one and two, what should people who are gay do if they are also Christians?
Considering the train wreck that is national gay rights policy, it behooves Christian Americans to answer these questions before we discover a) that we're living in Sodom and Gomorrah or b) we start building nice "summer" camps for Gay people with mandatory attendance. Since there are extreme advocates for both views, I can see us adopting a more middle of the road course.
The point is that so far I've only heard rhetoric on both sides of the argument. I'd like to hear a compelling argument either way that would help me make up my mind.
That's what I'd like to see.
Monday, December 11, 2006
Magnificat
I'm getting old and soft in my old age (I'm nearly 40!) On Saturday night, as a perfect antidote for the holiday blues I was feeling on Friday (I wasn't nearly in my right mind when I wrote that, as I discovered this morning when I got to work and saw the pile of obvious stuff that I'd been left to do by my bored little self on Friday), I took my youth group to see The Nativity at the local theater. We had quite a turnout - or, well, more than I expected anyway - and we all made it into the theater and sat down in time for the movie.
The movie is just what it says it is - a holiday picture postcard retelling of the Nativity story just as you've seen it reenacted countless times in church on Christmas Eve - only more so. Relatively big budget, at least in comparison to the average Sunday School nativity story, the movie looks and feels like it was filmed on location 2000 years ago. The dialogue is not entirely from the Bible as there would be very little to say in a two hour movie, but seemed relatively believable, all things considered - sort of a The Message version of The Nativity.
I was glad to watch it with my youth group in the darkness of a quiet theater because I admit to weeping at several points during the film - mostly for joy. There are some incredibly touching moments in the nativity story and the movie does a wonderful job of portraying those moments with sincere emotion. When Elizabeth greets Mary for the first time with her line straight from the Bible, "Blessed is the mother, etc..." she did it so well my eyes teared up just from the joy on her face. Here was Mary, teenager, panicked, distraught, and confused, going to visit her cousin Elizabeth to discover if she'd dreamed the whole thing with the angel, and Elizabeth greets her not only with confirmation of the angel's words, but also with the joy of the impending birth of her Lord and Savior.
This is a quiet movie of unusual beauty and though it follows the Bible fairly carefully it doesn't go for the Handelian moments of Hallelujah like exuberance - no singing choirs of angels, no In Excelsis Deo, no Hallelujah chorus. Instead, you get a scene where Mary meets a shepherd who offers to keep her warm by the fire. His gift, he tells her, is the one of hope for deliverance by his savior. A knowing look passes between Mary and Joseph at that point. And that scene, of course, pays off in the manger scene at the end. The look on the shepherd's face is ten times better than a singing choir of angels.
So, I wept. Tears streamed down my face at the sheer beauty of it all. I was reminded of the importance of this moment but also of the hope it engenders. And yet, I couldn't help looking at the joy on Mary's face at the birth of her son, and contrast that with the sorrow on the face of Mary in the Pieta. The happiness was bittersweet. Christ was born for us. But Christ died for us. And then Christ rose again for us!
There are moments when I feel like a youth leader and moments when I wonder what the heck I'm doing (which is probably when I really do feel like a youth leader ;) This was one of those moments and one of those adventures that made me feel like a youth leader. The second I'd seen the preview, I just knew I wanted to take the youth group to see this movie. I was right. It was a good choice. And I can't wait for the discussion that this movie will generate at the next youth meeting.
Its Christmas time, y'all!
P.S. On SNL on Saturday night (not two hours after seeing the movie) they had a sketch in which the live nativity was being performed and the two clueless people who were playing Joseph and Mary looked down into the cradle and said, "This doesn't look like Baby Santa Claus!" It made me laugh.
The movie is just what it says it is - a holiday picture postcard retelling of the Nativity story just as you've seen it reenacted countless times in church on Christmas Eve - only more so. Relatively big budget, at least in comparison to the average Sunday School nativity story, the movie looks and feels like it was filmed on location 2000 years ago. The dialogue is not entirely from the Bible as there would be very little to say in a two hour movie, but seemed relatively believable, all things considered - sort of a The Message version of The Nativity.
I was glad to watch it with my youth group in the darkness of a quiet theater because I admit to weeping at several points during the film - mostly for joy. There are some incredibly touching moments in the nativity story and the movie does a wonderful job of portraying those moments with sincere emotion. When Elizabeth greets Mary for the first time with her line straight from the Bible, "Blessed is the mother, etc..." she did it so well my eyes teared up just from the joy on her face. Here was Mary, teenager, panicked, distraught, and confused, going to visit her cousin Elizabeth to discover if she'd dreamed the whole thing with the angel, and Elizabeth greets her not only with confirmation of the angel's words, but also with the joy of the impending birth of her Lord and Savior.
This is a quiet movie of unusual beauty and though it follows the Bible fairly carefully it doesn't go for the Handelian moments of Hallelujah like exuberance - no singing choirs of angels, no In Excelsis Deo, no Hallelujah chorus. Instead, you get a scene where Mary meets a shepherd who offers to keep her warm by the fire. His gift, he tells her, is the one of hope for deliverance by his savior. A knowing look passes between Mary and Joseph at that point. And that scene, of course, pays off in the manger scene at the end. The look on the shepherd's face is ten times better than a singing choir of angels.
So, I wept. Tears streamed down my face at the sheer beauty of it all. I was reminded of the importance of this moment but also of the hope it engenders. And yet, I couldn't help looking at the joy on Mary's face at the birth of her son, and contrast that with the sorrow on the face of Mary in the Pieta. The happiness was bittersweet. Christ was born for us. But Christ died for us. And then Christ rose again for us!
There are moments when I feel like a youth leader and moments when I wonder what the heck I'm doing (which is probably when I really do feel like a youth leader ;) This was one of those moments and one of those adventures that made me feel like a youth leader. The second I'd seen the preview, I just knew I wanted to take the youth group to see this movie. I was right. It was a good choice. And I can't wait for the discussion that this movie will generate at the next youth meeting.
Its Christmas time, y'all!
P.S. On SNL on Saturday night (not two hours after seeing the movie) they had a sketch in which the live nativity was being performed and the two clueless people who were playing Joseph and Mary looked down into the cradle and said, "This doesn't look like Baby Santa Claus!" It made me laugh.
Friday, December 08, 2006
And when your head explodes...
Too much information. My brain can not process it all. Its trying to keep up with my insatiable appetite for the stuff, but it doesn't know what to do with it. It can't digest fast enough.
Quick hits for the week:
I was deeply touched and saddened by the loss of James Kim. I didn't know him. Knew nothing more about him than what I saw on the news. But like many people, I followed the story with growing concern. I was thrilled when his family was found alive and hurt when he was found dead. A family driving home for the holidays should not be something that we need to worry about. And yet, there are so many other people who go out for a normal thing and never return. I can't imagine the grief that is being felt in that family, and for once I am glad to see that the media is being extremely protectful of this families privacy.
On a similar note, I heard about Jose Uribe this morning, killed in a car accident in the Dominican Republic. He was one of my all time favorite Giants. I remember when he left the Giants for the Astros in his final season. When he came back, the real fans began to chant his name after yet another spectacular double play - even when it was the Giants he was trying to beat. We all loved this guy.
The wheels continue to spin in Iraq and Washington, but they are not connected to anything real. Windmills that rotate but have nothing to grind - except the innocent lives of young people. I realize that the road is likely to get harder before it gets easier. But arguing about the direction we take is only delaying the inevitable. Let the politics go. Let the partisanship go. Accomplish the mission and come home already.
This is the busy season of the year and I'm just now settling into it. Basketball and holidays and church and presents and family and all that year end stuff at work... I don't need the rest of the world's problems as well. Nor do I need a reminder of how fragile it all is - how I might end up dead doing nothing more dangerous than driving down the street.
The Birth of Christ is supposed to represent hope. God's deliverance of his Messiah to Earth - the fulfillment of His promise. Yet, I can't keep my mind off of Calvary. I can't keep my mind away from the crucifixion. I see little hope, only death.
This is bumming me out. This is supposed to be my favorite time of year. I think its the movies... such a poor crop of holiday films this year. Maybe I'll go home and watch Love Actually again... or maybe sit in an airport and watch people meet their loved ones.
Quick hits for the week:
I was deeply touched and saddened by the loss of James Kim. I didn't know him. Knew nothing more about him than what I saw on the news. But like many people, I followed the story with growing concern. I was thrilled when his family was found alive and hurt when he was found dead. A family driving home for the holidays should not be something that we need to worry about. And yet, there are so many other people who go out for a normal thing and never return. I can't imagine the grief that is being felt in that family, and for once I am glad to see that the media is being extremely protectful of this families privacy.
On a similar note, I heard about Jose Uribe this morning, killed in a car accident in the Dominican Republic. He was one of my all time favorite Giants. I remember when he left the Giants for the Astros in his final season. When he came back, the real fans began to chant his name after yet another spectacular double play - even when it was the Giants he was trying to beat. We all loved this guy.
The wheels continue to spin in Iraq and Washington, but they are not connected to anything real. Windmills that rotate but have nothing to grind - except the innocent lives of young people. I realize that the road is likely to get harder before it gets easier. But arguing about the direction we take is only delaying the inevitable. Let the politics go. Let the partisanship go. Accomplish the mission and come home already.
This is the busy season of the year and I'm just now settling into it. Basketball and holidays and church and presents and family and all that year end stuff at work... I don't need the rest of the world's problems as well. Nor do I need a reminder of how fragile it all is - how I might end up dead doing nothing more dangerous than driving down the street.
The Birth of Christ is supposed to represent hope. God's deliverance of his Messiah to Earth - the fulfillment of His promise. Yet, I can't keep my mind off of Calvary. I can't keep my mind away from the crucifixion. I see little hope, only death.
This is bumming me out. This is supposed to be my favorite time of year. I think its the movies... such a poor crop of holiday films this year. Maybe I'll go home and watch Love Actually again... or maybe sit in an airport and watch people meet their loved ones.
Wednesday, December 06, 2006
Race
There is no scientific evidence of Race. None. The variance of difference between peoples of the same "race" and people of another "race" is exactly the same. What we think of as "race" is actually a continual spectrum of humanity from black to white and black again. Or to put it in other terms, the difference between two "White people" on the opposite ends of the "race" is greater than the difference between the average "white" person and the average "black" person.
So, if there is no scientific evidence for something we can all clearly see with our eyes, where do these divisive thoughts come from?
Human beings are organizers. I think we've always been. We like to take chaos and create order out of it. As such, we tend to label things or put them into categories. This, no doubt, is a hold over from our most primitive thinking - this item is safe, this one is dangerous. But we've evolved this list of categories and subcategories until we've reached the point where everything has its place and there is a place for everything.
God forbid you should fall outside those categories.
The categories that we choose then have to be mutually agreeable to one another. I call an egg food. But you might call an egg an ornament. We can talk and discuss and agree with one another. We will call an egg food from now on. We agree that eggs are food, not ornaments - even if they can sometimes be used as ornaments. BUUUUTTTTT, those people over there think that eggs are ornaments that can sometimes be used as food. We can't understand why they would think this. We must put those people into a category that includes all people that don't agree with us. People who don't agree with us make us nervous. Nervousness is a sign of danger. Therefore, people who don't agree with us are dangerous.
Our brains are wired this way. 90,000 years later and we still haven't advanced far enough to look not at differences, but similarities to determine categories.
We think eggs are food. You think eggs are ornaments. We both agree that eggs are oval shaped. People who agree with us make us happy. And happy means safety. Therefore, those who agree with us are our friends.
Science has determined that we are all the same. Black, white, red, yellow, green, blue, purple, aquamarine, fuscia, bubblegum pink, lavender, pearl green, copper - we are all part of the same spectrum. You are all humans, just like me. You all breathe air, like me. You all love and hate, like me. You all strive for a better life, like me. You all want to live in peace, like me. You are like me. You agree with this point, no? Therefore, we can be friends.
To truly evolve, all we need to do is make more friends. How hard can that be?
So, if there is no scientific evidence for something we can all clearly see with our eyes, where do these divisive thoughts come from?
Human beings are organizers. I think we've always been. We like to take chaos and create order out of it. As such, we tend to label things or put them into categories. This, no doubt, is a hold over from our most primitive thinking - this item is safe, this one is dangerous. But we've evolved this list of categories and subcategories until we've reached the point where everything has its place and there is a place for everything.
God forbid you should fall outside those categories.
The categories that we choose then have to be mutually agreeable to one another. I call an egg food. But you might call an egg an ornament. We can talk and discuss and agree with one another. We will call an egg food from now on. We agree that eggs are food, not ornaments - even if they can sometimes be used as ornaments. BUUUUTTTTT, those people over there think that eggs are ornaments that can sometimes be used as food. We can't understand why they would think this. We must put those people into a category that includes all people that don't agree with us. People who don't agree with us make us nervous. Nervousness is a sign of danger. Therefore, people who don't agree with us are dangerous.
Our brains are wired this way. 90,000 years later and we still haven't advanced far enough to look not at differences, but similarities to determine categories.
We think eggs are food. You think eggs are ornaments. We both agree that eggs are oval shaped. People who agree with us make us happy. And happy means safety. Therefore, those who agree with us are our friends.
Science has determined that we are all the same. Black, white, red, yellow, green, blue, purple, aquamarine, fuscia, bubblegum pink, lavender, pearl green, copper - we are all part of the same spectrum. You are all humans, just like me. You all breathe air, like me. You all love and hate, like me. You all strive for a better life, like me. You all want to live in peace, like me. You are like me. You agree with this point, no? Therefore, we can be friends.
To truly evolve, all we need to do is make more friends. How hard can that be?
Monday, December 04, 2006
There's No Christians Like Bell Christians.
I have been playing handbells since Jr. High School. I honestly know of no bell choir that isn't affiliated with a Christian church. I'm not saying they don't exist, but I know of none. Bell music is the quintessential Christian music - not because of its sound, nor because of its text, but simply because of its existence.
When one plays in a bell choir you quickly learn that there is no real opportunity for individual achievement. Bell music is unique in that you tend to only play a few bells at a time. The music is achieved, then, by an entire choir working in concert together to create a wonderful sound. There might be stretches where you solo and shine, but ultimately, without the rest of your choir - there is no music.
As a result of this togetherness, bell choirs tend to be very interdependent. It is not unusual for a choir to stop a rehearsal and have one member turn to another and say, "I can't play that note in measure 46, can you get it?" These are trained and hardened musicians saying this. Can you imagine Pavorati turning to the back up tenor and saying, "Do you think you can sing that E sharp for me?" But in a bell choir, nobody shines alone. There is no individual achievement. Everyone works together and the final product is a result of everyone's efforts together.
If all Christiantity worked this way, imagine the results. Imagine if you could look your Christian brother in the eye and say, "I can't do this, can you do it for me?" and there was no judgement, only agreement. "Sure, Bob, anything - let me just write that down."
But here's the thing... Christianity does work this way. There is no individual achievement. Your glory is my glory and vice versa. Your failure is my failure. Only together, as brothers and sisters in Christ, can we make beatiful music. Without that togetherness, we'll continue to sound like individual instruments playing our own tunes in concert with no one.
When one plays in a bell choir you quickly learn that there is no real opportunity for individual achievement. Bell music is unique in that you tend to only play a few bells at a time. The music is achieved, then, by an entire choir working in concert together to create a wonderful sound. There might be stretches where you solo and shine, but ultimately, without the rest of your choir - there is no music.
As a result of this togetherness, bell choirs tend to be very interdependent. It is not unusual for a choir to stop a rehearsal and have one member turn to another and say, "I can't play that note in measure 46, can you get it?" These are trained and hardened musicians saying this. Can you imagine Pavorati turning to the back up tenor and saying, "Do you think you can sing that E sharp for me?" But in a bell choir, nobody shines alone. There is no individual achievement. Everyone works together and the final product is a result of everyone's efforts together.
If all Christiantity worked this way, imagine the results. Imagine if you could look your Christian brother in the eye and say, "I can't do this, can you do it for me?" and there was no judgement, only agreement. "Sure, Bob, anything - let me just write that down."
But here's the thing... Christianity does work this way. There is no individual achievement. Your glory is my glory and vice versa. Your failure is my failure. Only together, as brothers and sisters in Christ, can we make beatiful music. Without that togetherness, we'll continue to sound like individual instruments playing our own tunes in concert with no one.
Friday, December 01, 2006
Bonus Friday Blog - Feeding My Addiction
I have in front of me the latest, and greatest, National Geographic Expeditions brochure for 2007. In this wonderful tome is every dream vacation an explorer born three hundred years too late could ever want. While I have contemplated the wonderful 15 Day Antartica Cruise before (at $10,000 - a real bargain!) as of yesterday, I have a new winning vacation goal.
You see, you start by boarding a private 757 Jet with about one hundred other passengers and a tour guide who is most famous for his discovery of the Incan Ice Princess Mummy (I'm sure he's slumming for research money). Your picture is taken on board by a for real National Geographic photographer who is probably suffering from Bengal Tiger and Flying Fish withdrawal but who can nonetheless say "Cheese!" with the best of them. After a short flight from Washington D.C., you arrive in Peru.
First stop: Machu Pichu - the 14,000 foot plus home of the ancient Incan culture.
After a few days acclimating and deacclimating to such a height, you board your plane again for the next leg of your journey.
Second stop: Easter Island - Yes, that Easter Island with the giant Tiki Statues.
Then, Samoa. Then, Australia - but not just anywhere in Australia, no. Get on your scuba gear and snorkeling IPOD's cause you're going swimming with the fishes at the Great Barrier Reef.
Tired, yet.
I hope not, because on your way from Australia to Chengdu in China, you have to stop in Cambodia to visit the Angor Wat shrine. And then, after only a brief one day layover in Chengdu, you make a quick roundtrip to the high holy mountain city of Lhasa in Tibet, before flying on to India.
But not just anywhere in India - of course, you're visiting the Taj Mahal. Get a postcard though, cause you have to board your plane again and you wouldn't want to be left lion around, as your next stop is Africa and particularly the Serengetti Animal Preserve.
At Serengetti you have the option of a photo safari with real National Geographic explorers, or a brief one day visit with the Leakey's at Olduvai Gorge. Then you board the plane yet again for a short flight to the Luxor - in Egypt, as opposed to Las Vegas. After another side trip to the Pyramids at Giza, you board your plane for a cross continent flight for your last stop on this trip - Marrakesh in Morocco - before a quick transworld flight back to Washington D.C..
Forget taking a world cruise that takes 10 months and visits exciting Calcutta and other "exotic" ports of call. For my money, I'll take the 24 Day, personal 757 tour that visits just about every place on the globe I've ever wanted to see and allows me to meet people that I've always wanted to know.
And even though you don't get a complete set of Ginzu knives, I'd bet you'd be willing to pay quite a bit for this once in a lifetime travel experience. Well, you needn't rob a bank. Because for the low low price of one day of Barry Bonds' contract, you could afford to make this trip. That's right, just a mere $49,950 (double occupancy) or $56,120 (single occupancy) will put you on this wonderful vacation experience. So, order now. Operators are standing by!
You see, you start by boarding a private 757 Jet with about one hundred other passengers and a tour guide who is most famous for his discovery of the Incan Ice Princess Mummy (I'm sure he's slumming for research money). Your picture is taken on board by a for real National Geographic photographer who is probably suffering from Bengal Tiger and Flying Fish withdrawal but who can nonetheless say "Cheese!" with the best of them. After a short flight from Washington D.C., you arrive in Peru.
First stop: Machu Pichu - the 14,000 foot plus home of the ancient Incan culture.
After a few days acclimating and deacclimating to such a height, you board your plane again for the next leg of your journey.
Second stop: Easter Island - Yes, that Easter Island with the giant Tiki Statues.
Then, Samoa. Then, Australia - but not just anywhere in Australia, no. Get on your scuba gear and snorkeling IPOD's cause you're going swimming with the fishes at the Great Barrier Reef.
Tired, yet.
I hope not, because on your way from Australia to Chengdu in China, you have to stop in Cambodia to visit the Angor Wat shrine. And then, after only a brief one day layover in Chengdu, you make a quick roundtrip to the high holy mountain city of Lhasa in Tibet, before flying on to India.
But not just anywhere in India - of course, you're visiting the Taj Mahal. Get a postcard though, cause you have to board your plane again and you wouldn't want to be left lion around, as your next stop is Africa and particularly the Serengetti Animal Preserve.
At Serengetti you have the option of a photo safari with real National Geographic explorers, or a brief one day visit with the Leakey's at Olduvai Gorge. Then you board the plane yet again for a short flight to the Luxor - in Egypt, as opposed to Las Vegas. After another side trip to the Pyramids at Giza, you board your plane for a cross continent flight for your last stop on this trip - Marrakesh in Morocco - before a quick transworld flight back to Washington D.C..
Forget taking a world cruise that takes 10 months and visits exciting Calcutta and other "exotic" ports of call. For my money, I'll take the 24 Day, personal 757 tour that visits just about every place on the globe I've ever wanted to see and allows me to meet people that I've always wanted to know.
And even though you don't get a complete set of Ginzu knives, I'd bet you'd be willing to pay quite a bit for this once in a lifetime travel experience. Well, you needn't rob a bank. Because for the low low price of one day of Barry Bonds' contract, you could afford to make this trip. That's right, just a mere $49,950 (double occupancy) or $56,120 (single occupancy) will put you on this wonderful vacation experience. So, order now. Operators are standing by!
An Endorsement!
I realize that Thanksgiving was last week, but I still wanted to give thanks about something that I almost never give thanks about - my job.
I work for Yasutomo & Company in South San Francisco, CA. This company was founded over 50 years ago by Mr. Yasutomo - a Japanese American - and has been dealing with the import of Japanese and other Asian art and office supplies during this entire time. They are also the leading exporter of American made candy and snack items to Japan (Lifesavers, Planters, Carmel Popcorn - that sort of thing). I only know enough about snack items to say that I've sampled everything we sell to Japan. And I know even less about Japanese art supplies. Nevertheless, here I am.
Part of the reason I love Yasutomo is that it is the complete opposite of my last job - purposefully. When I reached the end of my tether for Century Theatres, I was faced with two options - and since one of them involved arson and mass murder, I decided to take the other option. My job search, after a week spent kaschnoodling in Las Vegas, lasted two days. I faxed out my resume to two jobs and had interviews with both jobs scheduled in less than an hour. I went to the Yasutomo interview first - I was applying for a customer service position - and I fell in love with the company in about twenty minutes. I had a job offer from them before I had even taken the other interview. Though I went to the other interview, in my heart I had already signed with Yasutomo.
What's there not to like? For starters, it is a small company of only about 20 people. Everyone here gets a certain amount of individual attention and I know every single person in my company. We all generally get along - but in any family, there are bound to be disagreements. We all work hard and are rewarded for our hard work. There is a very real sense of being in the same boat together - not of being the first rats into the lifeboats the second things go bad. It doesn't pay much, but I am not suffering because of it. The commute is short. The area where I work is nice and business parky. And there are plenty of good places to eat within a short distance.
Yasutomo and Company offers some pretty cool products. We were the first company to import Japanese pens into the United States market. Japanese pens are to ball point pens what Swiss Watches are to a Spongebob Squarepants Burger King watch. If you only need a cheap piece of crap, go to Burger King. If you want a pen that will last you a lifetime, buy Japanese.
But beyond pens, Yasutomo also imports dozens of packages of Origami paper. These colorful square sheets of paper are not only good for folding origami, but can also be used to teach children Geometry, and as backgrounds for scrapbooking and other craft projects. If you've never seen an origami covered wooden Easter Egg, you don't know what you're missing. And some of the simple origami designs that even I can do are quite beautiful and elegant.
We also sell the best gel pens on the market. Recently that guy that Leonardo DiCaprio played in the movie, Catch Me If You Can - the one who was an expert at forging checks - said that if you want to make it difficult for check forgers to steal your checks and identity, you should always sign your checks with Gel ink. I've been signing my checks that way ever since (and nobody has stolen my paltry amount of savings yet, so it must be working ;) Not only that, but gel pens are pretty cheap and they write smoothly and consistently for a very long time.
We carry a wide variety of other products, from giant mechanized hole punches to cotton swabbed color blending sticks, as well. Our Stylist pens have been the industry leader amongst Architects for over 25 years. Name the last product that you sold that lasted 25 years, much less one that remained the best in class that entire time.
I say all this because I love my job. And I love Yasutomo. For as long as I could talk trash about the now defunct Century Theatres, I can sing the praises of Yasutomo.
Two years ago, I left the customer service department and took over as the Product Manager/Purchasing Agent/Part Time IT Person/Inventory Prognosticator/Sales Analyst/Web Consultant/Vice President of Special Projects That Nobody Else Wants To Do. As is typical in a small company, its sometimes hard to define my job description. But no matter what I do on a given day, I find that I'm always challenged and that I'm always in demand. Its good to feel wanted. Its good to contribute. And its good to work with people you love and respect.
Really, what more can you ask for?
P.S. Congratulations to my sister on her new job. Which she can't talk about. ;)
I work for Yasutomo & Company in South San Francisco, CA. This company was founded over 50 years ago by Mr. Yasutomo - a Japanese American - and has been dealing with the import of Japanese and other Asian art and office supplies during this entire time. They are also the leading exporter of American made candy and snack items to Japan (Lifesavers, Planters, Carmel Popcorn - that sort of thing). I only know enough about snack items to say that I've sampled everything we sell to Japan. And I know even less about Japanese art supplies. Nevertheless, here I am.
Part of the reason I love Yasutomo is that it is the complete opposite of my last job - purposefully. When I reached the end of my tether for Century Theatres, I was faced with two options - and since one of them involved arson and mass murder, I decided to take the other option. My job search, after a week spent kaschnoodling in Las Vegas, lasted two days. I faxed out my resume to two jobs and had interviews with both jobs scheduled in less than an hour. I went to the Yasutomo interview first - I was applying for a customer service position - and I fell in love with the company in about twenty minutes. I had a job offer from them before I had even taken the other interview. Though I went to the other interview, in my heart I had already signed with Yasutomo.
What's there not to like? For starters, it is a small company of only about 20 people. Everyone here gets a certain amount of individual attention and I know every single person in my company. We all generally get along - but in any family, there are bound to be disagreements. We all work hard and are rewarded for our hard work. There is a very real sense of being in the same boat together - not of being the first rats into the lifeboats the second things go bad. It doesn't pay much, but I am not suffering because of it. The commute is short. The area where I work is nice and business parky. And there are plenty of good places to eat within a short distance.
Yasutomo and Company offers some pretty cool products. We were the first company to import Japanese pens into the United States market. Japanese pens are to ball point pens what Swiss Watches are to a Spongebob Squarepants Burger King watch. If you only need a cheap piece of crap, go to Burger King. If you want a pen that will last you a lifetime, buy Japanese.
But beyond pens, Yasutomo also imports dozens of packages of Origami paper. These colorful square sheets of paper are not only good for folding origami, but can also be used to teach children Geometry, and as backgrounds for scrapbooking and other craft projects. If you've never seen an origami covered wooden Easter Egg, you don't know what you're missing. And some of the simple origami designs that even I can do are quite beautiful and elegant.
We also sell the best gel pens on the market. Recently that guy that Leonardo DiCaprio played in the movie, Catch Me If You Can - the one who was an expert at forging checks - said that if you want to make it difficult for check forgers to steal your checks and identity, you should always sign your checks with Gel ink. I've been signing my checks that way ever since (and nobody has stolen my paltry amount of savings yet, so it must be working ;) Not only that, but gel pens are pretty cheap and they write smoothly and consistently for a very long time.
We carry a wide variety of other products, from giant mechanized hole punches to cotton swabbed color blending sticks, as well. Our Stylist pens have been the industry leader amongst Architects for over 25 years. Name the last product that you sold that lasted 25 years, much less one that remained the best in class that entire time.
I say all this because I love my job. And I love Yasutomo. For as long as I could talk trash about the now defunct Century Theatres, I can sing the praises of Yasutomo.
Two years ago, I left the customer service department and took over as the Product Manager/Purchasing Agent/Part Time IT Person/Inventory Prognosticator/Sales Analyst/Web Consultant/Vice President of Special Projects That Nobody Else Wants To Do. As is typical in a small company, its sometimes hard to define my job description. But no matter what I do on a given day, I find that I'm always challenged and that I'm always in demand. Its good to feel wanted. Its good to contribute. And its good to work with people you love and respect.
Really, what more can you ask for?
P.S. Congratulations to my sister on her new job. Which she can't talk about. ;)
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
I'm Feeling Ecclesiastical
Christmas time is here. Happiness and cheer. My favorite time of year. I wish I had a beer. Try not to sneer. Or to hit a deer. Hot elves make me leer. And no, I'm not queer. I meant female elves, you hear?
My apologies to Charles Schultz. I see nothing. I know nothing. My mind is adrift in the lackadaisical leanings of a post-election coital and I'm just floating along, looking down, and realizing that what I most want for Christmas this year is meaning. Good old fashioned black and white clearly contrasted Meaning.
Its all so pointless really. And I just can't shake the feeling. Rampant consumerism. Rampant politics. Rampant blaming. Rampant talking heads. Rampant rampantness. Its all so... rampant. I feel like setting traps, capturing a few rampants, and throwing them in the trash.
I want meaning. I want just an ever so tiny sliver of the real world God promises, now. Just a peak really. Just a whiff. I want to feel sunlight on my face. I want to feel some warmth in my heart that I don't suspect as a clever ploy to get me to part with money or to vote for your candidate. I don't want Hollywood special effects. I want nitty gritty. I want the bachelor to be human. I want to put real back into reality. I want value.
But there's none of it here. In the bright baubles of fake trees and lights, in the tinny ring of salvation bells, in the chemical smell of faux sugary sweets, there is nothing of meaning, there is nothing of value, there is no God.
I want God, not something that's ten times better than God for half the price! I want God, not some oversized promise of God that's better for my health. I want God, not some washed out politically correct mind scrub of God.
See... my mind is in a dark place, surrounded by nothing but shadows, and I can't find the light source.
It's all meaningless without God.
My apologies to Charles Schultz. I see nothing. I know nothing. My mind is adrift in the lackadaisical leanings of a post-election coital and I'm just floating along, looking down, and realizing that what I most want for Christmas this year is meaning. Good old fashioned black and white clearly contrasted Meaning.
Its all so pointless really. And I just can't shake the feeling. Rampant consumerism. Rampant politics. Rampant blaming. Rampant talking heads. Rampant rampantness. Its all so... rampant. I feel like setting traps, capturing a few rampants, and throwing them in the trash.
I want meaning. I want just an ever so tiny sliver of the real world God promises, now. Just a peak really. Just a whiff. I want to feel sunlight on my face. I want to feel some warmth in my heart that I don't suspect as a clever ploy to get me to part with money or to vote for your candidate. I don't want Hollywood special effects. I want nitty gritty. I want the bachelor to be human. I want to put real back into reality. I want value.
But there's none of it here. In the bright baubles of fake trees and lights, in the tinny ring of salvation bells, in the chemical smell of faux sugary sweets, there is nothing of meaning, there is nothing of value, there is no God.
I want God, not something that's ten times better than God for half the price! I want God, not some oversized promise of God that's better for my health. I want God, not some washed out politically correct mind scrub of God.
See... my mind is in a dark place, surrounded by nothing but shadows, and I can't find the light source.
It's all meaningless without God.
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
Footprints in the Sand Two - Electric Boogaloo
And the man asked, "Lord, why is it that at the top of these sand dunes there are two sets of footprints, but in the valleys there are only one?"
And Jesus replied, "Because when we went across the peaks, I walked with you, but when we were in the valleys, I carried you."
After a profound silence filled with gratitude and awe, the man looked around at all the sand and said, "By the way, where the heck are we?"
_______________________________________________________________________________________
When, after a certain point in his life, St. Augustine looked back, he could clearly see the pattern that God had laid out in his life and he knew that God had directed his path.
Then St. Augustine looked to the future and realized that he still had no idea where God was leading him.
________________________________________________________________________________________
I am lost. Not in the profound sense of someone who is terrified and alone. No, I am lost in the Lord. I am standing on a giant sand dune, looking back at the wonderful path God has given me. I have strayed from time to time, but God has always dragged me back on course, with the occassional kick to the head for good measure. And here I am. I can clearly see the path I've taken. But when I turn around and look ahead, I have no idea where I'm going.
Today, I enrolled in college. Again. For the first time in ten years. I always knew that someday I would go back, but I didn't see this coming from 100 miles away. But God knew and I followed God.
Here now are the mile markers that lead to this event.
I left Century Theatres in 2000 and decided to find a nice quiet job. I ended up here at Yasutomo. This move gave me weekends and evenings free. I quickly surmised that I had the time to return to an active church life. I rejoined the choir and started reattending church on Sundays. Shortly thereafter, the youth assistant left to join the seminary. Seeing the youth pastor struggle, I volunteered to help out from time to time.
A year or so passed and I started to work on my novel. Just as I was really getting into it, I changed course abruptly in order to finish my website. The website took a few months to complete and was exhausting work. Literally the day I finished it, with every intent to return to work on my novel, one of the youth in my church asked if I'd be interested in becoming Stage Manager at a local theater. I got one of those tingly spider-sense kind of things and took the job.
My friendship grew with the youth and with other actors and directors. The play ended about three months later and I threw myself into the novel full time for the next 3 years or so. In the meantime, I had cultivated some serious friendships. We continued to hang out and do youth type things. When the youth pastor abruptly left my church, I took over as the youth leader. My friendship with the youths helped to ease the transition.
Cut to: This summer, after finishing the latest draft of the novel, I was wondering what to do next. My youth friends (having just completed their first year of college) walked up to me and said, "Will, we want to make a film this summer." I think my jaw must have dropped. "Okay," was my response. Over Columbus Day Weekend, we shot for two days the five minute pilot I had written years before but had never had a chance to film for lack of actors.
When I was done filming, I looked at the footage and something remarkable occurred to me. I really suck at film making. And then the whole spidey sense thing kicked in again and I just knew that it was time to go back to school to become a film maker.
I left high school wanting to be a film maker and gave up because I wasn't ready. I left the Navy to become a film maker and gave up because I wasn't ready. Now, here, fourteen years after my last attempt, I am finally returning to film school. Each step along the way can be clearly seen and chronicled by me. I know where I walked side by side with Jesus and I know where He carried me. But when I turn around and look ahead, there are no footprints before me. I have no idea where I'm going or why I'm going there.
I may be lost, but I have the ultimate navigator with me. I will fear no evil, for He is with me.
And Jesus replied, "Because when we went across the peaks, I walked with you, but when we were in the valleys, I carried you."
After a profound silence filled with gratitude and awe, the man looked around at all the sand and said, "By the way, where the heck are we?"
_______________________________________________________________________________________
When, after a certain point in his life, St. Augustine looked back, he could clearly see the pattern that God had laid out in his life and he knew that God had directed his path.
Then St. Augustine looked to the future and realized that he still had no idea where God was leading him.
________________________________________________________________________________________
I am lost. Not in the profound sense of someone who is terrified and alone. No, I am lost in the Lord. I am standing on a giant sand dune, looking back at the wonderful path God has given me. I have strayed from time to time, but God has always dragged me back on course, with the occassional kick to the head for good measure. And here I am. I can clearly see the path I've taken. But when I turn around and look ahead, I have no idea where I'm going.
Today, I enrolled in college. Again. For the first time in ten years. I always knew that someday I would go back, but I didn't see this coming from 100 miles away. But God knew and I followed God.
Here now are the mile markers that lead to this event.
I left Century Theatres in 2000 and decided to find a nice quiet job. I ended up here at Yasutomo. This move gave me weekends and evenings free. I quickly surmised that I had the time to return to an active church life. I rejoined the choir and started reattending church on Sundays. Shortly thereafter, the youth assistant left to join the seminary. Seeing the youth pastor struggle, I volunteered to help out from time to time.
A year or so passed and I started to work on my novel. Just as I was really getting into it, I changed course abruptly in order to finish my website. The website took a few months to complete and was exhausting work. Literally the day I finished it, with every intent to return to work on my novel, one of the youth in my church asked if I'd be interested in becoming Stage Manager at a local theater. I got one of those tingly spider-sense kind of things and took the job.
My friendship grew with the youth and with other actors and directors. The play ended about three months later and I threw myself into the novel full time for the next 3 years or so. In the meantime, I had cultivated some serious friendships. We continued to hang out and do youth type things. When the youth pastor abruptly left my church, I took over as the youth leader. My friendship with the youths helped to ease the transition.
Cut to: This summer, after finishing the latest draft of the novel, I was wondering what to do next. My youth friends (having just completed their first year of college) walked up to me and said, "Will, we want to make a film this summer." I think my jaw must have dropped. "Okay," was my response. Over Columbus Day Weekend, we shot for two days the five minute pilot I had written years before but had never had a chance to film for lack of actors.
When I was done filming, I looked at the footage and something remarkable occurred to me. I really suck at film making. And then the whole spidey sense thing kicked in again and I just knew that it was time to go back to school to become a film maker.
I left high school wanting to be a film maker and gave up because I wasn't ready. I left the Navy to become a film maker and gave up because I wasn't ready. Now, here, fourteen years after my last attempt, I am finally returning to film school. Each step along the way can be clearly seen and chronicled by me. I know where I walked side by side with Jesus and I know where He carried me. But when I turn around and look ahead, there are no footprints before me. I have no idea where I'm going or why I'm going there.
I may be lost, but I have the ultimate navigator with me. I will fear no evil, for He is with me.
Monday, November 27, 2006
The Beginning
The Lord works in mysterious ways, but I've never had so direct an answer to prayer as I did this weekend.
On Saturday night, I prayed to God about my youth group, asking for His guidance in making this Advent season relevant to the youth of my church. In the midst of my prayer, I had a sudden thought. "Why do we celebrate Christmas?"
Beyond the usual notions of Christmas and its commercial driven reasons, the murkiness of the nativity and its relevance to the Christian religion is probably lost on most Christians. It is not readily accessible as a powerful religious allegory that is somehow directly related to our everyday lives. None of us are likely to experience virgin birth, nor wisemen at our door, nor stars to follow, nor angels appearing to announce a birth, nor choirs of angels, etc... So what is the relevance to us? Why do we celebrate Christ's birth every year in a way that we do not celebrate anyone else's birth? Is is just because He was God? Shouldn't we just sing Him Happy Birthday and pass out some birthday cake then?
All of these ideas flashed through my head in a blur and a moment and it got me to ponder the whole advent season. I knew immediately, of course, that I had to use this idea to explore the notion of the nativity with the youth group this season. Not as a straight forward explanation - this is what the Bible says - but as a question of why the nativity is relevant to you and to the world.
Then, lest I forget the prayer of the night before, on Sunday I was sitting in my church library and I found a very dated book about The Gospel According to Thomas. This gnostic publication found in Egypt in the 40's had been translated as a loggia of Jesus's sayings purportedly quoted by the apostle Thomas. I skipped the intro and went straight to the words themselves and found a quote that really struck me... (and I'm paraphrasing here).
"Why do you ask me about the end, but not about the beginning? Truly I say to you, if you want to understand the end, you must first understand the beginning."
This quote has not left my mind since because whether spoken by Jesus or not, it is deeply profound. It also reminded me of my idea and my obligation to the youth.
So I've already decided to fill in my youth with the background of the nativity next week, but what I'd really like from you all is an answer to the question, "Why is the nativity relevant to you and to the world?" I don't have a definitive answer yet, myself. I must contemplate the question for a while before I hope to even venture a profound guess. But, perhaps, this is something you have pondered already or have read from the likes of C.S. Lewis or others. So, let me hear it.
I look forward to your posts or responses.
On Saturday night, I prayed to God about my youth group, asking for His guidance in making this Advent season relevant to the youth of my church. In the midst of my prayer, I had a sudden thought. "Why do we celebrate Christmas?"
Beyond the usual notions of Christmas and its commercial driven reasons, the murkiness of the nativity and its relevance to the Christian religion is probably lost on most Christians. It is not readily accessible as a powerful religious allegory that is somehow directly related to our everyday lives. None of us are likely to experience virgin birth, nor wisemen at our door, nor stars to follow, nor angels appearing to announce a birth, nor choirs of angels, etc... So what is the relevance to us? Why do we celebrate Christ's birth every year in a way that we do not celebrate anyone else's birth? Is is just because He was God? Shouldn't we just sing Him Happy Birthday and pass out some birthday cake then?
All of these ideas flashed through my head in a blur and a moment and it got me to ponder the whole advent season. I knew immediately, of course, that I had to use this idea to explore the notion of the nativity with the youth group this season. Not as a straight forward explanation - this is what the Bible says - but as a question of why the nativity is relevant to you and to the world.
Then, lest I forget the prayer of the night before, on Sunday I was sitting in my church library and I found a very dated book about The Gospel According to Thomas. This gnostic publication found in Egypt in the 40's had been translated as a loggia of Jesus's sayings purportedly quoted by the apostle Thomas. I skipped the intro and went straight to the words themselves and found a quote that really struck me... (and I'm paraphrasing here).
"Why do you ask me about the end, but not about the beginning? Truly I say to you, if you want to understand the end, you must first understand the beginning."
This quote has not left my mind since because whether spoken by Jesus or not, it is deeply profound. It also reminded me of my idea and my obligation to the youth.
So I've already decided to fill in my youth with the background of the nativity next week, but what I'd really like from you all is an answer to the question, "Why is the nativity relevant to you and to the world?" I don't have a definitive answer yet, myself. I must contemplate the question for a while before I hope to even venture a profound guess. But, perhaps, this is something you have pondered already or have read from the likes of C.S. Lewis or others. So, let me hear it.
I look forward to your posts or responses.
Wednesday, November 22, 2006
Has Penis Lost Its Punch?
Everyday I receive at least ten emails with subject lines that read, "Improve Penis Power!" or some such. Just now I received one of these e-mails and it suddenly occurred to me - I wasn't fazed by it at all.
I don't consider myself a prude or anything, but there was a time when the word Penis or Breasts or, as Monty Python called them, other Naughty Bits, would embarass me just to read them or say them. Its not that I was uncomfortable with the subject matter so much as the fact that I was raised to not use these words in public company. These were words best used by doctors and... ahem... others. Definitely not for casual consumption. (I meant the words, not the object... you perverts!)
But now with these words floating around the Internet and spamverse like flotsam and jetsom after a storm, you can't swing a dead cat without running into breast enlargements, penis enhancements, cheaper viagara, and speed disguised as weight loss drugs. These once giggle inducing words have been reduced to the common.
In language this is called marking language. Certain words are marked as taboo. You know what those words are. Eventually, through time, marked words become unmarked. They enter the mainstream through a combination of use and replacement.
Fifty years ago, I imagine that most people didn't know what an abortion was, let alone talk about it every two to four years as if it was a common every day thing. Now, of course, it is part of our national discourse at election time. So, too, must we expect the idea that someday people will be talking about penis enhancements like tattoo's. "Yeah, Bob, check out my extra four inches." "That's really great. Where'd you get it done?" "Wal-mart. They were having a special."
Perhaps this is why human beings are constantly feeling like the end of the world is near. When things that we grew up with as being taboo find themselves in the mainstream of thought, how can we not feel that the world has changed irrevocably for the worst?
So, this Thanksgiving, I am most thankful for these last few moments of innocense in my life. I like my breasts, penis, and other naughty bits just the way they are, thank you, and I really don't feel the need to change, or discuss it. Some things just ought to remain unspoken.
But certainly not un-blogged about... ;)
Happy Thanksgiving!
I don't consider myself a prude or anything, but there was a time when the word Penis or Breasts or, as Monty Python called them, other Naughty Bits, would embarass me just to read them or say them. Its not that I was uncomfortable with the subject matter so much as the fact that I was raised to not use these words in public company. These were words best used by doctors and... ahem... others. Definitely not for casual consumption. (I meant the words, not the object... you perverts!)
But now with these words floating around the Internet and spamverse like flotsam and jetsom after a storm, you can't swing a dead cat without running into breast enlargements, penis enhancements, cheaper viagara, and speed disguised as weight loss drugs. These once giggle inducing words have been reduced to the common.
In language this is called marking language. Certain words are marked as taboo. You know what those words are. Eventually, through time, marked words become unmarked. They enter the mainstream through a combination of use and replacement.
Fifty years ago, I imagine that most people didn't know what an abortion was, let alone talk about it every two to four years as if it was a common every day thing. Now, of course, it is part of our national discourse at election time. So, too, must we expect the idea that someday people will be talking about penis enhancements like tattoo's. "Yeah, Bob, check out my extra four inches." "That's really great. Where'd you get it done?" "Wal-mart. They were having a special."
Perhaps this is why human beings are constantly feeling like the end of the world is near. When things that we grew up with as being taboo find themselves in the mainstream of thought, how can we not feel that the world has changed irrevocably for the worst?
So, this Thanksgiving, I am most thankful for these last few moments of innocense in my life. I like my breasts, penis, and other naughty bits just the way they are, thank you, and I really don't feel the need to change, or discuss it. Some things just ought to remain unspoken.
But certainly not un-blogged about... ;)
Happy Thanksgiving!
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
Walking With My Eyes Closed
Sometimes I like to close my eyes while I'm walking and just listen to the sounds of the Earth around me. Typically its the sound of cars, trucks, and other forms of transportation whizzing by. I imagine the people inside with their faces pressed against the glass watching the world go by them in a blur. I can hear my feet tapping along the sidewalk. In spring, it is the sounds of the birds in the trees and the wind gently rolling across the urban grass.
I have to open my eyes occassionally, though, before I walk into someone or something. While my eyes are closed and I am picturing the world around me, I am usually content that a dead body won't suddenly spring up in my path to trip me up. I have walked the path many times before and I have faith in my ability to hear something approaching. The longer my eyes are closed, however, the more that faith is tested. I can not walk very far on faith alone. I need to see where I am going.
Yet, if I were completely blind, I would not have any choice but to walk with my eyes closed. At first, it would be terrifying. And then, likely, it would be extremely depressing - not being able to do that which I had taken for granted for so long. But eventually my other senses would adjust and my faith in my abilities would grow with it. Before long, I would be able to "see" in many different ways that I had not seen before. My faith would grow strong then and I would be able to walk confidently with my eyes closed.
I have to open my eyes occassionally, though, before I walk into someone or something. While my eyes are closed and I am picturing the world around me, I am usually content that a dead body won't suddenly spring up in my path to trip me up. I have walked the path many times before and I have faith in my ability to hear something approaching. The longer my eyes are closed, however, the more that faith is tested. I can not walk very far on faith alone. I need to see where I am going.
Yet, if I were completely blind, I would not have any choice but to walk with my eyes closed. At first, it would be terrifying. And then, likely, it would be extremely depressing - not being able to do that which I had taken for granted for so long. But eventually my other senses would adjust and my faith in my abilities would grow with it. Before long, I would be able to "see" in many different ways that I had not seen before. My faith would grow strong then and I would be able to walk confidently with my eyes closed.
Friday, November 17, 2006
Just one more...
It is the essence of our sinful nature - three little words, "Just One More". We are never satisfied with what we have. If we are in the dirt, completely desolate, we look up and hope for a mere pittance - survival, health, something to stay alive. We get it and we praise God and rejoice and then say, "And now, would it be too much to ask for something else... just a little more, please?"
There is no limit to this acquisitiveness. We could be the high rulers of the entire Earth with dominion over all living things... and we'd still want something else. It is never enough to stop and say, "You know... I've got enough now. I'll stop. Maybe even give some of this stuff away. I haven't read this book in years. I barely watch TV anymore. This extra computer is just gathering dust. I haven't worn these clothes in ages - heck, I've never worn that outfit."
Christmas season is around the corner. Here we are trying to determine the best gifts for everyone. PlayStation 3's or DVD Players or books or music, some token to show that we love someone. It costs us money and effort to secure these gifts. And then on the big day itself, we rush around in a hurry to get everything done, to check off everything on our Christmas checklist - because we can't miss a thing. We can't be deficient in any way come the holidays. We must have it all... and just a little bit more besides.
Sometimes, I just want it to stop. I want to step away from the human condition for just a few hours. I want to go sit under a tree and contemplate my navel while the birds sing to the glory of God because their unencumbered lives are filled with worms and soaring and song. I just get the feeling we're all making it hard on ourselves. But I can't get away from it all. The wheel is spinning too fast and if I jump off someone is likely to get hurt - maybe even me.
Andy writes today, brilliantly, about it never being too much to do things for God. But, sometimes, I wonder. Does He really want this life for us? Does He really want us to be constantly taking on even more burdens so that we become swallowed by them? How many times did Jesus rest? How many times did He just walk away from the crowds and let the birds sing to Him? There is more to following Jesus than work. There is following Jesus in rest. Sometimes we must listen to our heads, as well as our hearts, and lay down our weary load so that others can take them up.
Ocassionally, we must say, "No thanks, I've had enough."
There is no limit to this acquisitiveness. We could be the high rulers of the entire Earth with dominion over all living things... and we'd still want something else. It is never enough to stop and say, "You know... I've got enough now. I'll stop. Maybe even give some of this stuff away. I haven't read this book in years. I barely watch TV anymore. This extra computer is just gathering dust. I haven't worn these clothes in ages - heck, I've never worn that outfit."
Christmas season is around the corner. Here we are trying to determine the best gifts for everyone. PlayStation 3's or DVD Players or books or music, some token to show that we love someone. It costs us money and effort to secure these gifts. And then on the big day itself, we rush around in a hurry to get everything done, to check off everything on our Christmas checklist - because we can't miss a thing. We can't be deficient in any way come the holidays. We must have it all... and just a little bit more besides.
Sometimes, I just want it to stop. I want to step away from the human condition for just a few hours. I want to go sit under a tree and contemplate my navel while the birds sing to the glory of God because their unencumbered lives are filled with worms and soaring and song. I just get the feeling we're all making it hard on ourselves. But I can't get away from it all. The wheel is spinning too fast and if I jump off someone is likely to get hurt - maybe even me.
Andy writes today, brilliantly, about it never being too much to do things for God. But, sometimes, I wonder. Does He really want this life for us? Does He really want us to be constantly taking on even more burdens so that we become swallowed by them? How many times did Jesus rest? How many times did He just walk away from the crowds and let the birds sing to Him? There is more to following Jesus than work. There is following Jesus in rest. Sometimes we must listen to our heads, as well as our hearts, and lay down our weary load so that others can take them up.
Ocassionally, we must say, "No thanks, I've had enough."
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
Entirely A Work Of Fiction...
No matter what you read, unfortunately, the following is a work of fiction...
How I Would Handle This, If I Could Handle It Correctly
By
Will Robison
"They're going to do what?" I would exclaim with exasperation. "You're kidding me, right? No. Well, I've got to handle this before it gets out of control."
I would squinch my face really tight, concentrate, and...
Startling several high powered execs in ruffled suits, I would magically appear in front of the Fox Boardroom.
"How did you get in here?" they would ask.
"During times of crisis, humans can evolve special skills necessary to solve problems," I would say.
"What do you want?" they would ask, as they called for security.
I would squinch my face again and stop time. Then I would walk around the table to each of the execs and smack them upside the head as hard as I can. Then I would go to the board and write six words... "Stop the O.J., Save the World!"
When I restarted time, they would find the words written on the board and I would be missing. But where would I have gone?
Appearing in the headquarters of Reaganbooks Publishing, I would seek out the Publisher responsible for this fiasco. After smacking her around, I would write the same words on her board, then find the galleys of this book and burn it.
Then, it would be off to Rockingham, or some golf course somewhere. I would find the devil in this matter. I would talk to him, tell him that he was an idiot, and then get him to confess to the crime in some way that didn't allow him to make money on the deal. After getting the confession, the devil would find himself teleported to a small desert island where he could harm no one else and where he could hunt or be hunted by polar bears all day long.
My work done, I would transport myself back to my office, and blog about it.
But, of course, I can't do any of these things. All I can do is not watch, not read, and not pay any attention to Mr. O.J. Simpson.
Stop the O.J., Save The World!
How I Would Handle This, If I Could Handle It Correctly
By
Will Robison
"They're going to do what?" I would exclaim with exasperation. "You're kidding me, right? No. Well, I've got to handle this before it gets out of control."
I would squinch my face really tight, concentrate, and...
Startling several high powered execs in ruffled suits, I would magically appear in front of the Fox Boardroom.
"How did you get in here?" they would ask.
"During times of crisis, humans can evolve special skills necessary to solve problems," I would say.
"What do you want?" they would ask, as they called for security.
I would squinch my face again and stop time. Then I would walk around the table to each of the execs and smack them upside the head as hard as I can. Then I would go to the board and write six words... "Stop the O.J., Save the World!"
When I restarted time, they would find the words written on the board and I would be missing. But where would I have gone?
Appearing in the headquarters of Reaganbooks Publishing, I would seek out the Publisher responsible for this fiasco. After smacking her around, I would write the same words on her board, then find the galleys of this book and burn it.
Then, it would be off to Rockingham, or some golf course somewhere. I would find the devil in this matter. I would talk to him, tell him that he was an idiot, and then get him to confess to the crime in some way that didn't allow him to make money on the deal. After getting the confession, the devil would find himself teleported to a small desert island where he could harm no one else and where he could hunt or be hunted by polar bears all day long.
My work done, I would transport myself back to my office, and blog about it.
But, of course, I can't do any of these things. All I can do is not watch, not read, and not pay any attention to Mr. O.J. Simpson.
Stop the O.J., Save The World!
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
In Full Measure
I just wanted to let everyone get up to date with news of the Novel. First of all, I decided to split my incredibly long book into three novels (more money for me! ;) so that I could make the saga even longer. Second of all, the name of the first novel will be, "In Full Measure". Third of all, I have started the rewriting necessary to convert the first act of one novel into a stand alone novel. I am one chapter done and have synopsized the second act. Those of you who have read the first ten chapters will notice some minor changes. Those changes will pay off at the end of the first act.
I didn't do this to delay the completion of the novel. I did this for two reasons that sort of hit me simultaneously. In chronological order... Even before I started sending out queries to agents I knew that there was a good possibility that the novel would be unsellable in its original condition (1100 pages is almost unheard of from an established writer, let alone a complete novice). In my mind, I made contingency plans figuring out where to divide the story in half, if I had to. It occurred to me, in passing, that if I were to convert it into three stories, I would have to put a lot of extra work into it - but that I'd have some room to add some things that I deemed too much for the original story.
However, as I reached Chapter 22 of the final tweaking, I ran smack dab into a wall. The chapter didn't read right to me and it was a pivotal chapter in the entire book. As I tried to backtrack to determine how to fix this one chapter, I became more and more disenchanted with the book. It was missing a certain drive, a certain coolness factor that I had in my head. I had gutted the story to make it fit 1100 pages, and in the process, I had taken out all the stuff that made the story cool - in favor of stuff that made the story deep. I realized with something akin to horror that the only way to fix the story would be to make some small, but lengthy changes, to the story.
I cooled my heels for two months, hoping that things would fix themselves. In those two months, I got four rejection letters from agents. While that wasn't an avalanche of negativity, I had thought that I might at least get something other than a form letter after two or three queries. The rejection didn't make me think the whole novel was doomed... but it pushed me to reconsider the parts I had previously left out.
In the end, I knew I had to make the changes. The first act had the fewest changes to make, but the changes would resolve some of the longest problems I've had with the book (problems I never addressed during any version of the story). By having so few changes to make, I hope to finish the novel (again) quickly and get it back out to agents before spring. This time, I have a feeling I'll make a lot more headway.
I'll still get my paycheck for Novel #1 - its just taking a little longer than I thought. The end result is that I'm extremely happy with the changes being made and I think the first act, and first novel, will be much better because of it.
Besides, I think the title is much better than The Thin Line. ;)
I didn't do this to delay the completion of the novel. I did this for two reasons that sort of hit me simultaneously. In chronological order... Even before I started sending out queries to agents I knew that there was a good possibility that the novel would be unsellable in its original condition (1100 pages is almost unheard of from an established writer, let alone a complete novice). In my mind, I made contingency plans figuring out where to divide the story in half, if I had to. It occurred to me, in passing, that if I were to convert it into three stories, I would have to put a lot of extra work into it - but that I'd have some room to add some things that I deemed too much for the original story.
However, as I reached Chapter 22 of the final tweaking, I ran smack dab into a wall. The chapter didn't read right to me and it was a pivotal chapter in the entire book. As I tried to backtrack to determine how to fix this one chapter, I became more and more disenchanted with the book. It was missing a certain drive, a certain coolness factor that I had in my head. I had gutted the story to make it fit 1100 pages, and in the process, I had taken out all the stuff that made the story cool - in favor of stuff that made the story deep. I realized with something akin to horror that the only way to fix the story would be to make some small, but lengthy changes, to the story.
I cooled my heels for two months, hoping that things would fix themselves. In those two months, I got four rejection letters from agents. While that wasn't an avalanche of negativity, I had thought that I might at least get something other than a form letter after two or three queries. The rejection didn't make me think the whole novel was doomed... but it pushed me to reconsider the parts I had previously left out.
In the end, I knew I had to make the changes. The first act had the fewest changes to make, but the changes would resolve some of the longest problems I've had with the book (problems I never addressed during any version of the story). By having so few changes to make, I hope to finish the novel (again) quickly and get it back out to agents before spring. This time, I have a feeling I'll make a lot more headway.
I'll still get my paycheck for Novel #1 - its just taking a little longer than I thought. The end result is that I'm extremely happy with the changes being made and I think the first act, and first novel, will be much better because of it.
Besides, I think the title is much better than The Thin Line. ;)
Monday, November 13, 2006
Survival of the Fittest
In a recent post about Battlestar Galactica I posed the question about whether we deserved to survive. I've been giving the question much thought lately. But apparently, I'm not the only one. There is a movement afoot by atheists and others questioning the relevancy of not just Christianity, but religion in general. They question whether religion has become a hindrance to further human development. They suggest that perhaps we are holding the human race back with our ancient ways and our redundant beliefs in things that obviously don't exist. Rather than make me angry, this talk has spurred me to question my faith, to question my beliefs, and to wonder if perhaps, they aren't right.
The latest call for the relevancy of religion comes from Sir Elton John himself. While I enjoy his music, I wouldn't say that I turn to him for advice - spiritual or otherwise. But his argument is valid in this current world. Religion seems to be spreading intolerance and hatred, not peace and love. Perhaps we've outlived our usefulness.
With a great deal of humility we must bow our heads and try to see the situation from his perspective. As an avowed homosexual musician, he has surely had his run ins with the religious right of this world. They have no doubt told him that he is damned, that he is evil, and that he is going to hell. They have probably suggested terrible punishments to be delivered to him and have met him with scorn and derision wherever he's gone. If this was the way religious people treated me, I'm fairly certain I would see his point all the way and there would be very little that might disuade me from that opinion.
With an even greater humility, we must admit that he is right. Christians have become murders, rapists, child molesters, thieves, cheats, genocidal leaders, and greedy money hoarding capitalists. We have become the worst sinners. We ought to be damned into irrelevancy. We ought to be destroyed.
But we're not.
And that's my counter argument to the position owned by a growing minority. We are all the terrible things you tell us that we are. We have done all of the things you claim. We have been evil. We have been wicked. We have hurt. We have destroyed. But we are saved despite these things. We are saved because no matter how flawed we are or become, we try to emulate the love and the peace of Jesus Christ, the son of God. We are saved because we hope to be better than we are. We hope to heal, to feed, to clothe, to house. We are saved because we have hope that we will become something that we are not.
If you divide the world into two groups, Christians and the rest, you will discover that both groups have the exact same characteristics. But whereas we hope to be saved through our faith and our actions, they do not have any hope.
Our hope is what sets us apart. Our hope is what keeps us relevant. We deserve to survive precisely because if we disappear, humanity loses all hope.
The latest call for the relevancy of religion comes from Sir Elton John himself. While I enjoy his music, I wouldn't say that I turn to him for advice - spiritual or otherwise. But his argument is valid in this current world. Religion seems to be spreading intolerance and hatred, not peace and love. Perhaps we've outlived our usefulness.
With a great deal of humility we must bow our heads and try to see the situation from his perspective. As an avowed homosexual musician, he has surely had his run ins with the religious right of this world. They have no doubt told him that he is damned, that he is evil, and that he is going to hell. They have probably suggested terrible punishments to be delivered to him and have met him with scorn and derision wherever he's gone. If this was the way religious people treated me, I'm fairly certain I would see his point all the way and there would be very little that might disuade me from that opinion.
With an even greater humility, we must admit that he is right. Christians have become murders, rapists, child molesters, thieves, cheats, genocidal leaders, and greedy money hoarding capitalists. We have become the worst sinners. We ought to be damned into irrelevancy. We ought to be destroyed.
But we're not.
And that's my counter argument to the position owned by a growing minority. We are all the terrible things you tell us that we are. We have done all of the things you claim. We have been evil. We have been wicked. We have hurt. We have destroyed. But we are saved despite these things. We are saved because no matter how flawed we are or become, we try to emulate the love and the peace of Jesus Christ, the son of God. We are saved because we hope to be better than we are. We hope to heal, to feed, to clothe, to house. We are saved because we have hope that we will become something that we are not.
If you divide the world into two groups, Christians and the rest, you will discover that both groups have the exact same characteristics. But whereas we hope to be saved through our faith and our actions, they do not have any hope.
Our hope is what sets us apart. Our hope is what keeps us relevant. We deserve to survive precisely because if we disappear, humanity loses all hope.
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
What I would do now...
We finally won. The country finally came to its senses. And now, here is what I would do next...
Pray.
Lots and lots of prayer. Its time to find out what together we can do for the brotherhood of man. Its time to find out what real plan God has in store for this nation and its people. Its time for quiet discernment on the toughest issues of the day.
I'm not talking political prayer - where one side claims to know what God is thinking. I'm not talking about in your face prayer, "Dear God, thank you for giving us a clear mandate for change and now here's how we're going to run things without anyone else's help." I'm talking about quiet, all-inclusive, bipartisan, heck - non-partisan, heartfelt, deeply yearning prayer.
Call in all the politicians - Democrats, Republicans, Independents - from the highest post in the land to the lowest, add the Judicial branch as well, and the civilian heads of the various departments, and put them in a room together and pray.
Pray for guidance. Pray for deliverance. Pray for thanksgiving. Pray for the world. And let God answer their prayers. Let Him guide them and deliver them. Let Him be thanked and hear concerns. And let us become a force for His good in the world. Let us be a Christian nation in deed as well as word.
We can only survive together if our prayers are the same.
Pray.
Lots and lots of prayer. Its time to find out what together we can do for the brotherhood of man. Its time to find out what real plan God has in store for this nation and its people. Its time for quiet discernment on the toughest issues of the day.
I'm not talking political prayer - where one side claims to know what God is thinking. I'm not talking about in your face prayer, "Dear God, thank you for giving us a clear mandate for change and now here's how we're going to run things without anyone else's help." I'm talking about quiet, all-inclusive, bipartisan, heck - non-partisan, heartfelt, deeply yearning prayer.
Call in all the politicians - Democrats, Republicans, Independents - from the highest post in the land to the lowest, add the Judicial branch as well, and the civilian heads of the various departments, and put them in a room together and pray.
Pray for guidance. Pray for deliverance. Pray for thanksgiving. Pray for the world. And let God answer their prayers. Let Him guide them and deliver them. Let Him be thanked and hear concerns. And let us become a force for His good in the world. Let us be a Christian nation in deed as well as word.
We can only survive together if our prayers are the same.
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
Encouraging bad behavior...
No matter how you voted today, you encouraged bad behavior. Both sides in this election should be sent to their rooms without supper. They were both extremely naughty. No political trick and gimmick was left unused. No negative thing left unsaid. No speech left unexploited. This was American politics at its ugliest.
I may not have the depth of others when it comes to my time at the voting booth. I know others have had more election experience than I have and so, perhaps, there have been dirtier and more confusing elections held before. But this election was the most costliest and had the most media saturation of any election ever - until the next one.
Both sides will tell you that they are only doing this because this is what it takes to win. Well, to be honest, I stopped listening, reading, discussing, and watching politics several weeks ago. My mind was made up a long time before and in some cases, further ads only served to strengthen my opinion or sway me over to the side opposite the one they were trying to cajole me into joining. It got to the point that I ended up voting for some people simply because I liked the sound of their name.
Now, I'm in 100% agreement with the Supreme Court that election materials and advertising is a protected form of speech, and in fact, one of the most important forms of protected speech. But there has to be some sort of restraint involved. We've had wildly inaccurate claims from both sides, innuendo disguised as political fact, and outrageous connections that villify opponents and connote them as terrorists or traitors or both. Conspiracy theories abound. Voters no longer trust the sanctity of the voting booth. Surely the clear and present danger clause of Free Speech covers this.
The whole point of a democratic process is that an INFORMED public goes and votes their mind in a free way to determine the best outcome by a majority of all citizens. If we allow the removal of the Informed process, then our voting is a waste of time. At that point, we are merely voting for the candidate or party or political apparatus that lies the best. That is not only not in the best interest of our nation, it is dangerous to our democracy. We are then voting for rhetoric and not for fact.
We need to change our election process. We need to reward those who speak the truth and keep us informed. We need to embrace those who bring us together with their words and not drive us apart with their politics. We are a mighty nation. We are a good nation. And we have a good system of government. We should all do everything in our power to protect it from all enemies, foreign and domestic, who would seek to subvert it.
Its two years to the Presidential election. We need to move quickly if we are going to avoid another election like this one.
I may not have the depth of others when it comes to my time at the voting booth. I know others have had more election experience than I have and so, perhaps, there have been dirtier and more confusing elections held before. But this election was the most costliest and had the most media saturation of any election ever - until the next one.
Both sides will tell you that they are only doing this because this is what it takes to win. Well, to be honest, I stopped listening, reading, discussing, and watching politics several weeks ago. My mind was made up a long time before and in some cases, further ads only served to strengthen my opinion or sway me over to the side opposite the one they were trying to cajole me into joining. It got to the point that I ended up voting for some people simply because I liked the sound of their name.
Now, I'm in 100% agreement with the Supreme Court that election materials and advertising is a protected form of speech, and in fact, one of the most important forms of protected speech. But there has to be some sort of restraint involved. We've had wildly inaccurate claims from both sides, innuendo disguised as political fact, and outrageous connections that villify opponents and connote them as terrorists or traitors or both. Conspiracy theories abound. Voters no longer trust the sanctity of the voting booth. Surely the clear and present danger clause of Free Speech covers this.
The whole point of a democratic process is that an INFORMED public goes and votes their mind in a free way to determine the best outcome by a majority of all citizens. If we allow the removal of the Informed process, then our voting is a waste of time. At that point, we are merely voting for the candidate or party or political apparatus that lies the best. That is not only not in the best interest of our nation, it is dangerous to our democracy. We are then voting for rhetoric and not for fact.
We need to change our election process. We need to reward those who speak the truth and keep us informed. We need to embrace those who bring us together with their words and not drive us apart with their politics. We are a mighty nation. We are a good nation. And we have a good system of government. We should all do everything in our power to protect it from all enemies, foreign and domestic, who would seek to subvert it.
Its two years to the Presidential election. We need to move quickly if we are going to avoid another election like this one.
Monday, November 06, 2006
Go Tell It...
First the facts and statistics:
Mt. San Bruno - Summit Trail - 3.1 miles - 725 Feet Elevation Climb - Terrain: Narrow trails through overgrown trees and bushes and rocky paths, 1.5 miles downhill and flat, 1.5 miles uphill - Time to complete: 1 hour 40 minutes.
On Saturday morning, I made my first solo hike in years, my first hike of any sort in at least 9 months, and my first summit in years. I chose Mt. San Bruno not only because its in my backyard, but because it was a relatively short hike. I wasn't as limber as I want to be, but it wasn't nearly as hard as it could have been. I kept a relatively steady pace up the side of the mountain, but stopped frequently to rest my weary legs. My knees and calves held up quite nicely. As this was an exhibition hike and outside of my usual hiking season, I carried the bare minimum - and that didn't include water (mostly because I forgot it in my truck). That means, no pictures. Most of the hiking time was spent getting up the hill. I've never been good with hills - even when I was in fabulous shape in high school.
As I walked along one of the ridge spines towards the summit, some thoughts occurred to me in the form of a prayer.
Lord, you ask us to climb a mountain.
You do not tell us why, but you say it is important.
From the bottom, we look up and can not see the top
because it is shrouded in clouds. Our hearts tremble.
How can we reach the summit? It seems impossible.
But we take a step forward, and then another, and then another.
After what seems a long struggle, we stop and look back
at all that we have accomplished. We can see so much. We have come a long ways.
But then, out of the corner of our eye, we see the mountain
still rising above us - still shrouded in the clouds.
It seems as if we will never reach the top. It seems as if we will
climb forever. But we continue to climb, one step in front of the other,
slowly but deliberately. Each step takes us higher and closer to the top.
Eventually, we will reach the summit, Lord. Eventually, we will do what you wish.
But it has not been easy, and the worst is yet to come as our strength fails us
and our will wavers. We can not summit without you, Lord. It is not possible.
Help us to climb, Oh Lord. Help us to reach the top.
Amen.
The top of Mt. San Bruno was shrouded in fog. I can not tell you what the world looked like below, but I felt a peace up there and an elation because I knew it was all downhill from there.
Next Saturday - I will tackle Butano State Park - maybe even with pictures.
Mt. San Bruno - Summit Trail - 3.1 miles - 725 Feet Elevation Climb - Terrain: Narrow trails through overgrown trees and bushes and rocky paths, 1.5 miles downhill and flat, 1.5 miles uphill - Time to complete: 1 hour 40 minutes.
On Saturday morning, I made my first solo hike in years, my first hike of any sort in at least 9 months, and my first summit in years. I chose Mt. San Bruno not only because its in my backyard, but because it was a relatively short hike. I wasn't as limber as I want to be, but it wasn't nearly as hard as it could have been. I kept a relatively steady pace up the side of the mountain, but stopped frequently to rest my weary legs. My knees and calves held up quite nicely. As this was an exhibition hike and outside of my usual hiking season, I carried the bare minimum - and that didn't include water (mostly because I forgot it in my truck). That means, no pictures. Most of the hiking time was spent getting up the hill. I've never been good with hills - even when I was in fabulous shape in high school.
As I walked along one of the ridge spines towards the summit, some thoughts occurred to me in the form of a prayer.
Lord, you ask us to climb a mountain.
You do not tell us why, but you say it is important.
From the bottom, we look up and can not see the top
because it is shrouded in clouds. Our hearts tremble.
How can we reach the summit? It seems impossible.
But we take a step forward, and then another, and then another.
After what seems a long struggle, we stop and look back
at all that we have accomplished. We can see so much. We have come a long ways.
But then, out of the corner of our eye, we see the mountain
still rising above us - still shrouded in the clouds.
It seems as if we will never reach the top. It seems as if we will
climb forever. But we continue to climb, one step in front of the other,
slowly but deliberately. Each step takes us higher and closer to the top.
Eventually, we will reach the summit, Lord. Eventually, we will do what you wish.
But it has not been easy, and the worst is yet to come as our strength fails us
and our will wavers. We can not summit without you, Lord. It is not possible.
Help us to climb, Oh Lord. Help us to reach the top.
Amen.
The top of Mt. San Bruno was shrouded in fog. I can not tell you what the world looked like below, but I felt a peace up there and an elation because I knew it was all downhill from there.
Next Saturday - I will tackle Butano State Park - maybe even with pictures.
Friday, November 03, 2006
Worst Case Scenario
I found this over at another website and thought that I'd share it with you.
A mother passing by her daughter's bedroom was astonished to see the bed was nicely made and everything was picked up. Then she saw an envelope propped up prominently on the center of the bed. It was addressed, "Mom." With the worst premonition, she opened the envelope and read the letter with trembling hands:
Dear Mom: It is with great regret and sorrow that I'm writing you. I had to elope with my new boyfriend because I wanted to avoid a scene with Dad and you. I've been finding real passion with Ahmed and he is so nice-even with all his piercings, tattoos, beard, and his motorcycle clothes. But it's not only the passion Mom, I'm pregnant and Ahmed said that we will be very happy. He already owns a trailer in the woods and has a stack of firewood for the whole winter. He wants to have many more children with me and that's now one of my dreams too. Ahmed taught me that marijuana doesn't really hurt anyone and we'll be growing it for us and trading it with his friends for all the cocaine and ecstasy we want. In the meantime, we'll pray that science will find a cure for AIDS so Ahmed can get better; he sure deserves it!! Don't worry Mom, I'm 15 years old now and I know how to take care of myself. Someday I'm sure we'll be back to visit so you can get to know your grand children.
Your daughter, Judith
PS: Mom, none of the above is true. I'm over at the neighbor's house. I just wanted to remind you that there are worse things in life than my report card that's in my desk center drawer. I love you! Call when it is safe for me to come home.
So, remember, not everything you read this weekend is true. And on that note, have a nice weekend. See you on Monday!
A mother passing by her daughter's bedroom was astonished to see the bed was nicely made and everything was picked up. Then she saw an envelope propped up prominently on the center of the bed. It was addressed, "Mom." With the worst premonition, she opened the envelope and read the letter with trembling hands:
Dear Mom: It is with great regret and sorrow that I'm writing you. I had to elope with my new boyfriend because I wanted to avoid a scene with Dad and you. I've been finding real passion with Ahmed and he is so nice-even with all his piercings, tattoos, beard, and his motorcycle clothes. But it's not only the passion Mom, I'm pregnant and Ahmed said that we will be very happy. He already owns a trailer in the woods and has a stack of firewood for the whole winter. He wants to have many more children with me and that's now one of my dreams too. Ahmed taught me that marijuana doesn't really hurt anyone and we'll be growing it for us and trading it with his friends for all the cocaine and ecstasy we want. In the meantime, we'll pray that science will find a cure for AIDS so Ahmed can get better; he sure deserves it!! Don't worry Mom, I'm 15 years old now and I know how to take care of myself. Someday I'm sure we'll be back to visit so you can get to know your grand children.
Your daughter, Judith
PS: Mom, none of the above is true. I'm over at the neighbor's house. I just wanted to remind you that there are worse things in life than my report card that's in my desk center drawer. I love you! Call when it is safe for me to come home.
So, remember, not everything you read this weekend is true. And on that note, have a nice weekend. See you on Monday!
Thursday, November 02, 2006
And you think our guys are out of touch...
Ever since my decision to go to Scotland in 17 months, I've been receiving my daily headlines from the Scottish news via a website called Scotsmen.com. As part of their headlines e-mail every day, they have a bit of This Day in Scottish History. I read this one today and I had to laugh...
Penguin Books were found not guilty of obscenity on this day in 1960, following their trial under the newly introduced Obscene Publications Act after publishing Lady Chatterley's Lover by D.H. Lawrence. Famously, the trial prosecution were ridiculed for being out of touch with the rest of the country after their statement that it was not a book "you would wish your wife or servants to read".
This is just a antidote for all the crazy rhetoric floating around the country right now. If you want my suggestion, boycott all political speech for the next week. You'll feel less soiled on Tuesday.
Penguin Books were found not guilty of obscenity on this day in 1960, following their trial under the newly introduced Obscene Publications Act after publishing Lady Chatterley's Lover by D.H. Lawrence. Famously, the trial prosecution were ridiculed for being out of touch with the rest of the country after their statement that it was not a book "you would wish your wife or servants to read".
This is just a antidote for all the crazy rhetoric floating around the country right now. If you want my suggestion, boycott all political speech for the next week. You'll feel less soiled on Tuesday.
Wednesday, November 01, 2006
Failure
If the ultimate goal of interpersonal communication is a well developed relationship, I have failed my brother completely. But I don't know where I went wrong.
For those of you who know my brother Dave, none of what I'm about to say will probably surprise you. In fact, for years I have defended my brother against complaints from all comers - telling them that they just didn't understand his idiosyncracies. Now, I'm not certain that I wasn't only helping to enforce a very negative behavior pattern.
The biggest bruhaha blew up about two months ago. I had made plans to go with my sister and her family to lunch, before heading off to my Mom's house for a family get together that we called Disney Day (we introduce the kids to Disney movies and corrupt them with food and love). My brother Dave is not a big Disney fan and so, even though he'd been invited many times, he didn't usually come along. Well, about an hour before lunch my brother called and wanted to go to lunch with me. I told him that I was already going to lunch with my sister but that he could join us. He said, sure. I told him that I would call him as soon as I learned more. To make a long story short, my sister and I hooked up for lunch and my brother finally called an hour later to say that he was caught in traffic and to keep waiting for him. When I told him that we'd already ordered (because the kids were hungry) he got upset with me and hung up. He called back a minute later and said, "And I'm not going to Disney Day either." And then hung up again. Those were the last, more or less, civil words he's had for me ever since.
Since then, three days before our trip to DisneyWorld he called us and informed us that he wasn't going with us and demanded his money back. We told him to go pound salt in the nicest Christian terms we could manage (but then we tried to get his money back anyway to no effect). He told me that he wouldn't speak to any of us again until he got paid.
I passed all this information along and my parents assumed that he was just blowing hot air. But I just spent the afternoon e-mailing and talking to him again as he reitterated (at the last minute again) that he was not going to help out with Basketball scoring this year. He said several rude things to me, made up many more lies, and then hung up after saying some nasty things.
I have tried to remain calm and civil and Christian. God asks us to forgive and yet the Bible is full of stories about brothers who have the darndest time doing just that. I have asked God for the words of forgiveness and healing, but they don't seem to be coming to me. I have tried to apologize, to beg, to plead, to do anything, but I've mostly just met a wall of silence. His remark today, "As far as I'm concerned, we don't have a relationship anymore," was particularly hurtful - as he intended it.
I am angry. I feel abused. I am confused. I am upset with the lies and the attacks. But mostly I am sad. I feel sorry for my brother who is casting himself loose from my entire family for something he thinks I did to him. If I knew what was at the root of the problem between us, I'd fix it - somehow. I want my brother back. But I can't get that through to him. He doesn't want to listen.
So, when it seems that there is nothing that can be done, I can only turn to God and let Him handle it. I ask your prayers for my brother. And I ask your prayers for me. If my heart has hardened, if I am in the wrong, may I find forgiveness for myself and ask forgiveness of my brother. And if my brother is wrong, may he find forgiveness from me and for himself. And may we both be forgiven by God and restored to his good graces. This has laid heavy on my heart for months now, but I haven't wanted to share because of the ongoing complexity of the situation. But now I need all of your help. So please pray for us.
Amen.
For those of you who know my brother Dave, none of what I'm about to say will probably surprise you. In fact, for years I have defended my brother against complaints from all comers - telling them that they just didn't understand his idiosyncracies. Now, I'm not certain that I wasn't only helping to enforce a very negative behavior pattern.
The biggest bruhaha blew up about two months ago. I had made plans to go with my sister and her family to lunch, before heading off to my Mom's house for a family get together that we called Disney Day (we introduce the kids to Disney movies and corrupt them with food and love). My brother Dave is not a big Disney fan and so, even though he'd been invited many times, he didn't usually come along. Well, about an hour before lunch my brother called and wanted to go to lunch with me. I told him that I was already going to lunch with my sister but that he could join us. He said, sure. I told him that I would call him as soon as I learned more. To make a long story short, my sister and I hooked up for lunch and my brother finally called an hour later to say that he was caught in traffic and to keep waiting for him. When I told him that we'd already ordered (because the kids were hungry) he got upset with me and hung up. He called back a minute later and said, "And I'm not going to Disney Day either." And then hung up again. Those were the last, more or less, civil words he's had for me ever since.
Since then, three days before our trip to DisneyWorld he called us and informed us that he wasn't going with us and demanded his money back. We told him to go pound salt in the nicest Christian terms we could manage (but then we tried to get his money back anyway to no effect). He told me that he wouldn't speak to any of us again until he got paid.
I passed all this information along and my parents assumed that he was just blowing hot air. But I just spent the afternoon e-mailing and talking to him again as he reitterated (at the last minute again) that he was not going to help out with Basketball scoring this year. He said several rude things to me, made up many more lies, and then hung up after saying some nasty things.
I have tried to remain calm and civil and Christian. God asks us to forgive and yet the Bible is full of stories about brothers who have the darndest time doing just that. I have asked God for the words of forgiveness and healing, but they don't seem to be coming to me. I have tried to apologize, to beg, to plead, to do anything, but I've mostly just met a wall of silence. His remark today, "As far as I'm concerned, we don't have a relationship anymore," was particularly hurtful - as he intended it.
I am angry. I feel abused. I am confused. I am upset with the lies and the attacks. But mostly I am sad. I feel sorry for my brother who is casting himself loose from my entire family for something he thinks I did to him. If I knew what was at the root of the problem between us, I'd fix it - somehow. I want my brother back. But I can't get that through to him. He doesn't want to listen.
So, when it seems that there is nothing that can be done, I can only turn to God and let Him handle it. I ask your prayers for my brother. And I ask your prayers for me. If my heart has hardened, if I am in the wrong, may I find forgiveness for myself and ask forgiveness of my brother. And if my brother is wrong, may he find forgiveness from me and for himself. And may we both be forgiven by God and restored to his good graces. This has laid heavy on my heart for months now, but I haven't wanted to share because of the ongoing complexity of the situation. But now I need all of your help. So please pray for us.
Amen.
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
The First Step Begins With A Hat...
There will be a major announcement on my newly revised website in a month or so, but for now, I will leave it to say that I am in training for an event. And the most important part of any person's training cycle is, of course, to look good while doing it. And hence, I need a new hat.
While I have had hiking hats before, I have tended to find them too large, too silly, or too annoying. I need a new hat - one that won't make me sick, one that will drive my walk, and make me feel 6 inches thick. (Sorry, Huey, couldn't help it!) I need a new hat for hiking. I need a hat that will keep my head warm and cool at the same time. I need a hat that will be comfortable. I need a hat that will keep the sweat out of my eyes, the sun off my face, and my hair out of my way. But, mostly, I need a new hat that won't make me look like a dork, or that is so comfortable to wear, I don't care if I look like a dork.
So, does anyone have any suggestions about where I might obtain this holy grail of a hiking hat?
While I have had hiking hats before, I have tended to find them too large, too silly, or too annoying. I need a new hat - one that won't make me sick, one that will drive my walk, and make me feel 6 inches thick. (Sorry, Huey, couldn't help it!) I need a new hat for hiking. I need a hat that will keep my head warm and cool at the same time. I need a hat that will be comfortable. I need a hat that will keep the sweat out of my eyes, the sun off my face, and my hair out of my way. But, mostly, I need a new hat that won't make me look like a dork, or that is so comfortable to wear, I don't care if I look like a dork.
So, does anyone have any suggestions about where I might obtain this holy grail of a hiking hat?
Monday, October 30, 2006
Pass the praise...
I'm not one to pass the praise too often since I like to keep it all for myself, but my sister wrote a rather funny blog post about trying to read a Bible story to her son, Joshua, who turns three in a couple of weeks or so. This is a good laugh.
Check it out here.
Check it out here.
WHY?
In the second season of the hit television series, Battlestar Galactica, Captain Adama sits down to have a talk with Sharon who is a former Viper pilot who discovered that she was, in fact, a Cylon that had been infiltrated into the Colonial fleet as a sort of ultimate sleeper agent. Sharon and Adama have history. At the end of Season One, she discovered that she was a Cylon when she walked up to Adama and shot him in the chest at point blank range because her programming (her nature) overcame her and she was unable to stop herself from pulling the trigger. Despite the near death experience, Captain Adama starts talking with Sharon - trying to get information about the Cylons on the one hand, but as a sort of catharsis on the other, working his way towards forgiveness. At the end of one episode, he finally asks, "Why do the Cylons want to destroy us?"
And she responds, "Because you've never asked yourselves why you deserve to survive."
A long time before, in a galaxy far, far away, groups of survivors struggled through the wilderness together moving from clump of brush to clump of brush looking doggedly over their shoulders for pursuing Babylonian soldiers. Jerusalem had been destroyed - its king carried off into exile. The city had been ransacked and burned. Its people had been hacked to death, burned, and, the lucky ones, carried off into exile. Those few who had managed to flee hoped to get as far as Egypt. But they couldn't understand what had gone wrong and why the Babylonians pursued them across the wilderness. "Why do the Babylonians want to destroy us?" they asked. And the prophet might have answered, "Because you never asked yourself why you deserve to survive."
Yesterday, in my church choir loft, surrounded by the few hundred or so remainders of what had once been a thriving church in a once thriving denomination, we sat and listened as our Pastor intoned the terrible news, "If the statistical averages continue to drop, there will be no Presbyterian Church in the United States in 30 years." Our numbers continue to drop. Our new membership classes dry up. We struggle in vain to survive as a denomination and as a church. But we can't understand why we continue to perish. "Why does the world want to destroy us?" And we can't even fathom the answer, "Because we never asked ourselves why we deserve to survive."
Battlestar Galactica is a TV Show and on its flashy surface, you will discover what you expect to see - space jocks, space opera, and great special effects. But at its heart, it asks the tough questions - the questions we each should be asking ourselves. When the world is beating us down and when all things seem gloomy and despair is the last emotion you can find, instead of asking God why He is doing this to us, why He is trying to destroy us, perhaps we should ask God, "How can I deserve to survive?"
What have we done to survive? Our salvation is guaranteed by the blood of Jesus Christ, but what have we done, as a species, to deserve our salvation and our continued survival? We can't feed the hungry. We can't clothe the naked. We can't house the homeless? We can't cure the sick. What exactly have we done to deserve our continued survival? It is only God's love that continues to shield us from extinction. It is only His mercy for which we can hope.
Where does all this doom and gloom come from on such a fine Monday morning? If you saw the way my 49er's played this weekend against the Bears, you wouldn't have to ask. ;)
And she responds, "Because you've never asked yourselves why you deserve to survive."
A long time before, in a galaxy far, far away, groups of survivors struggled through the wilderness together moving from clump of brush to clump of brush looking doggedly over their shoulders for pursuing Babylonian soldiers. Jerusalem had been destroyed - its king carried off into exile. The city had been ransacked and burned. Its people had been hacked to death, burned, and, the lucky ones, carried off into exile. Those few who had managed to flee hoped to get as far as Egypt. But they couldn't understand what had gone wrong and why the Babylonians pursued them across the wilderness. "Why do the Babylonians want to destroy us?" they asked. And the prophet might have answered, "Because you never asked yourself why you deserve to survive."
Yesterday, in my church choir loft, surrounded by the few hundred or so remainders of what had once been a thriving church in a once thriving denomination, we sat and listened as our Pastor intoned the terrible news, "If the statistical averages continue to drop, there will be no Presbyterian Church in the United States in 30 years." Our numbers continue to drop. Our new membership classes dry up. We struggle in vain to survive as a denomination and as a church. But we can't understand why we continue to perish. "Why does the world want to destroy us?" And we can't even fathom the answer, "Because we never asked ourselves why we deserve to survive."
Battlestar Galactica is a TV Show and on its flashy surface, you will discover what you expect to see - space jocks, space opera, and great special effects. But at its heart, it asks the tough questions - the questions we each should be asking ourselves. When the world is beating us down and when all things seem gloomy and despair is the last emotion you can find, instead of asking God why He is doing this to us, why He is trying to destroy us, perhaps we should ask God, "How can I deserve to survive?"
What have we done to survive? Our salvation is guaranteed by the blood of Jesus Christ, but what have we done, as a species, to deserve our salvation and our continued survival? We can't feed the hungry. We can't clothe the naked. We can't house the homeless? We can't cure the sick. What exactly have we done to deserve our continued survival? It is only God's love that continues to shield us from extinction. It is only His mercy for which we can hope.
Where does all this doom and gloom come from on such a fine Monday morning? If you saw the way my 49er's played this weekend against the Bears, you wouldn't have to ask. ;)
Friday, October 27, 2006
A Quarter Thousand and One
This is my 251st blog. So let's have fun at my expense...
Today's Category:
Name the three real reasons Will (that's me) came back to blogging after only a week of lay off...
The best answer wins the mutual admiration and condemnation of all participants! So, hop to it!
Today's Category:
Name the three real reasons Will (that's me) came back to blogging after only a week of lay off...
The best answer wins the mutual admiration and condemnation of all participants! So, hop to it!
Thursday, October 26, 2006
The Mysteries of Faith - Part One "Heroes"
This will be an ongoing series on mysteries or questions that bother me in the Bible because there are no definitive answers, only faith and questions. I am a rational person who reads the Bible and tries to connect the dots. But when things seem to contradict themselves, or blanket statements seem to good to be true, it leaves me wondering about the validity of the document that we call the Bible. And my only answer to that is to believe it anyway because I'm obviously missing some vital truth that will set my mind at ease. So, please, do not think I am attacking Christianity with these questions. I am merely asking questions in the hopes of finding some answer that will strengthen my understanding of God.
Part One - Heroes
On the TV Show, Heroes, several people have seemingly developed super powers overnight according to a theory of evolution posited by one of the main characters now deceased father. The idea being that these "Heroes" would gain these powers just in time to preserve the human race from some disaster, much like evolution teaches us that giraffe's developed long necks so that they could eat leaves higher up in the branches - had they not done so, they would have gone extinct. Its the idea that the chicken comes before the egg. But that is neither here nor there. These heroes have super powers. They can fly and teleport and go backwards and forwards into the future and paint the future and hear thoughts, etc... No clue as to how these particular abilities are going to save the world, but I'll leave that to the writers to decide.
In the Bible, there are many "heroes" who also develop super powers. Joseph can interpret dreams. Moses is able to part the Red Sea and call down plagues upon Pharoah. Daniel can calm lions. Many can prophesy. Jesus can heal the sick and even raise the dead. All of these "heroes" are sent by God to save the world (a few people at a time, perhaps, or in the case of Jesus, all of us at once). We are then lead to believe that in order to gain super powers, we must be sent by God. We hope to hear His voice in our ears, telling us to leap tall buildings in a single bound. But, of course, it doesn't work that way.
Yet, Jesus said that if we had faith as small as even a mustard seed, we could tell mountains to jump out of the way, and they would move. Now that would be a neat trick.
In today's world, its easy to dismiss the Bible's super powers because, after all, raising the dead isn't nearly as cool as bending over backwards and dodging super-sonic bullets, or stopping in mid-air, turning around and kicking an opponent in the head. Nobody in the Bible has spider sense. Nobody flies. Nobody has metallic claws to gut their opponents. As super powers go, walking on water is pretty lame. In this world of computer animation and fictionalized stories, the Bible pales in comparison.
Except, of course, that they're real. They really happened. Didn't they?
We can recreate the parting of the Red Sea with special effects, draw down plagues on people with computer animation and make-up, and every other show on television seems to resurrect some villain or hero once a week or so. Walking on water? Heck, even Dash from the Incredibles can do that. Feed the 5000? Give me a Star Trek Replicator and a little power from the Dilithium Crystals and I can do that.
In dealing with thoughts of the incredible its hard not to let your imagination take over. And imagination is make believe - not faith. We don't expect man to really fly, nor swing on spider webs through the city. People can't really dodge bullets, and nobody can really raise the dead, nor walk on water, nor spend the night in a cave with hungry lions. And anyone who claims they can interpret your dreams is probably a very good con artist. These things must be simple flights of the imagination combined with some flim flam.
So how does one move mountains? How does one raise the dead or heal the sick? How can faith really do all these things? If I ask God to part San Francisco Bay, would He do it? What if I really concentrated hard and pictured the Bay parting, when I opened my eyes, would it have parted? What missing ingredient am I missing? How do you believe the unbelievable? And how does belief in Christ and His resurrection allow you to move mountains?
I'd like to undo mistakes in my past. There are times when I try to imagine myself in the past and how I'd change things. I concentrate really hard. I close my eyes. I pray. But when my eyes open, nothing has changed. I can not even manage a mustard seed.
Perhaps Yoda was right, "Do, or do not, there is no try."
Part One - Heroes
On the TV Show, Heroes, several people have seemingly developed super powers overnight according to a theory of evolution posited by one of the main characters now deceased father. The idea being that these "Heroes" would gain these powers just in time to preserve the human race from some disaster, much like evolution teaches us that giraffe's developed long necks so that they could eat leaves higher up in the branches - had they not done so, they would have gone extinct. Its the idea that the chicken comes before the egg. But that is neither here nor there. These heroes have super powers. They can fly and teleport and go backwards and forwards into the future and paint the future and hear thoughts, etc... No clue as to how these particular abilities are going to save the world, but I'll leave that to the writers to decide.
In the Bible, there are many "heroes" who also develop super powers. Joseph can interpret dreams. Moses is able to part the Red Sea and call down plagues upon Pharoah. Daniel can calm lions. Many can prophesy. Jesus can heal the sick and even raise the dead. All of these "heroes" are sent by God to save the world (a few people at a time, perhaps, or in the case of Jesus, all of us at once). We are then lead to believe that in order to gain super powers, we must be sent by God. We hope to hear His voice in our ears, telling us to leap tall buildings in a single bound. But, of course, it doesn't work that way.
Yet, Jesus said that if we had faith as small as even a mustard seed, we could tell mountains to jump out of the way, and they would move. Now that would be a neat trick.
In today's world, its easy to dismiss the Bible's super powers because, after all, raising the dead isn't nearly as cool as bending over backwards and dodging super-sonic bullets, or stopping in mid-air, turning around and kicking an opponent in the head. Nobody in the Bible has spider sense. Nobody flies. Nobody has metallic claws to gut their opponents. As super powers go, walking on water is pretty lame. In this world of computer animation and fictionalized stories, the Bible pales in comparison.
Except, of course, that they're real. They really happened. Didn't they?
We can recreate the parting of the Red Sea with special effects, draw down plagues on people with computer animation and make-up, and every other show on television seems to resurrect some villain or hero once a week or so. Walking on water? Heck, even Dash from the Incredibles can do that. Feed the 5000? Give me a Star Trek Replicator and a little power from the Dilithium Crystals and I can do that.
In dealing with thoughts of the incredible its hard not to let your imagination take over. And imagination is make believe - not faith. We don't expect man to really fly, nor swing on spider webs through the city. People can't really dodge bullets, and nobody can really raise the dead, nor walk on water, nor spend the night in a cave with hungry lions. And anyone who claims they can interpret your dreams is probably a very good con artist. These things must be simple flights of the imagination combined with some flim flam.
So how does one move mountains? How does one raise the dead or heal the sick? How can faith really do all these things? If I ask God to part San Francisco Bay, would He do it? What if I really concentrated hard and pictured the Bay parting, when I opened my eyes, would it have parted? What missing ingredient am I missing? How do you believe the unbelievable? And how does belief in Christ and His resurrection allow you to move mountains?
I'd like to undo mistakes in my past. There are times when I try to imagine myself in the past and how I'd change things. I concentrate really hard. I close my eyes. I pray. But when my eyes open, nothing has changed. I can not even manage a mustard seed.
Perhaps Yoda was right, "Do, or do not, there is no try."
Wednesday, October 25, 2006
Priming The Pump
Word of my blogging demise was, apparently, greatly exaggerated.
It seems that while time away from ICON was good for getting my head back into the game, it didn't actually serve to help me write anything. Words of ICON written in the last week: 0. Words of Novel written since I stopped writing ICON: 0. So, as we move into the second inning, we wipe our hands of any foreign substances and begin again with the score tied.
It seems as if I need to prime the pump for writing. I know, approximately, what I want to say, but the words are just buried below under the gunk of other thoughts, feelings, and potential revelations. I need to clear the baffles. I need to put a scupper in my brain. I need to set sail and dog the hatches and... I've been reading too many nautical books lately.
The time off did give me a chance to clear the air within myself. I flung open the windows of my soul and let a cool breeze blow out all the staleness. I had a tremendous weekend almost entirely devoted to being a Christian. I spent all of Saturday morning helping build a local neighborhood park. It was hard, dirty, and extremely fulfilling work. After that, I took my youth group to a corn maze and got to listen to six teenage girls gab for the entire time. It was an education. On Sunday, after church, I participated in the 2006 Crop Walk to raise funds for the San Francisco Food Bank. Not only did I get to walk my faith, but it was a gorgeous day on the Marina in San Francisco and I got to talk with my church family as we walked to Fort Funston at the foot of the Golden Gate Bridge. The entire weekend was a reminder of what ITS all about.
Community. Friendship. Family. Service. Love. Laughter. Happiness. Working Together.
These aren't just platitudes. They aren't words to be hung on church banners excoriating us to be model Christians. They are what we know to be good things. They are gifts from God, freely given if we but open ourselves to receive them.
So, I'm back. Blog 1, Novel 0. I hope to catch up soon.
It seems that while time away from ICON was good for getting my head back into the game, it didn't actually serve to help me write anything. Words of ICON written in the last week: 0. Words of Novel written since I stopped writing ICON: 0. So, as we move into the second inning, we wipe our hands of any foreign substances and begin again with the score tied.
It seems as if I need to prime the pump for writing. I know, approximately, what I want to say, but the words are just buried below under the gunk of other thoughts, feelings, and potential revelations. I need to clear the baffles. I need to put a scupper in my brain. I need to set sail and dog the hatches and... I've been reading too many nautical books lately.
The time off did give me a chance to clear the air within myself. I flung open the windows of my soul and let a cool breeze blow out all the staleness. I had a tremendous weekend almost entirely devoted to being a Christian. I spent all of Saturday morning helping build a local neighborhood park. It was hard, dirty, and extremely fulfilling work. After that, I took my youth group to a corn maze and got to listen to six teenage girls gab for the entire time. It was an education. On Sunday, after church, I participated in the 2006 Crop Walk to raise funds for the San Francisco Food Bank. Not only did I get to walk my faith, but it was a gorgeous day on the Marina in San Francisco and I got to talk with my church family as we walked to Fort Funston at the foot of the Golden Gate Bridge. The entire weekend was a reminder of what ITS all about.
Community. Friendship. Family. Service. Love. Laughter. Happiness. Working Together.
These aren't just platitudes. They aren't words to be hung on church banners excoriating us to be model Christians. They are what we know to be good things. They are gifts from God, freely given if we but open ourselves to receive them.
So, I'm back. Blog 1, Novel 0. I hope to catch up soon.
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
ICON NO MORE
This is my last post.
It has become increasingly obvious to me that blogging, while fun, is not very productive and has begun to use up my creative resources in things of a finite and immediate pleasure. Since I started blogging over a year ago, my writing has nearly ground to a halt and I have not had much success in starting new ventures. Therefore, I will curtail any further blogging until such time as I can get back on track.
With any luck, the text of my next blog will read, "I have just been published!"
Thank you all for reading my little corner of the web. I appreciate your support and your comments. I will not be disappearing entirely, however, so you will still see me active as a reader. But I will not post any more blogs, so you can stop checking to see if there's anything new. I could not have come as far as this without your support.
And now, may the grace of our Lord, Jesus Christ, be with you all, now and forever. Amen.
It has become increasingly obvious to me that blogging, while fun, is not very productive and has begun to use up my creative resources in things of a finite and immediate pleasure. Since I started blogging over a year ago, my writing has nearly ground to a halt and I have not had much success in starting new ventures. Therefore, I will curtail any further blogging until such time as I can get back on track.
With any luck, the text of my next blog will read, "I have just been published!"
Thank you all for reading my little corner of the web. I appreciate your support and your comments. I will not be disappearing entirely, however, so you will still see me active as a reader. But I will not post any more blogs, so you can stop checking to see if there's anything new. I could not have come as far as this without your support.
And now, may the grace of our Lord, Jesus Christ, be with you all, now and forever. Amen.
Tuesday, October 17, 2006
The Slow Boat To Redemption
If there is a thicker person on this planet, I challenge them to a slow witted contest. I am like the proverbial Englishman who takes 30 years to get the punchline to a joke - only, in this case, I take 30 years to get the punchline to the truth. Quick to respond, slow to understand - that's me. And I'm not all that quick to respond, but I'm REALLY slow to understand. Any day now, I expect to fully comprehend something that I allegedly learned in Kindergarten, so if you see me yelling Eureka, you'll know why.
My revelations this week come more recently from the past six months and more deeply from events 15 years ago. We'll start with the mea culpas from less than six months ago, while they're still fresh in my mind.
So as not to be unduly influenced by more creative minds around me, I have perfected a filter around my creative brain which weeds out pretty much all stimulae into the creative centers of my tiny mind. This is helpful when I see movies like Back to the Future and decide that what my spine tingling thriller about renegade priests needs most is a time traveling Delorean. With the filter in place, egregious mistakes in tone and plot are eradicated before they are foist upon my readers. With the filters taken out, I am no better than most television executives siezing upon whatever the latest piece of gossip is in order to create a temporary hit TV show.
Where this filter is not helpful, however, is when I ask for help by having people read my stories and give me feedback. In the old days, if anyone criticized my work, I jumped all over them and told them why they were idiots. This had a negative impact on my ability to recruit people to read my stories. I have since learned to keep those spring loaded responses locked safely in my head. However, I will still dispute their criticism even as I'm hearing it (I completely disagree. It's imperative for the Priest to have this time traveling Delorean... don't you see?). I've dropped the idiot from my defense, but the tone is there. I still feel really bad about it. I'm my own worst enemy. Please, please help me read my book... IDIOT! No, wait... that's not what I meant at all...
The point of all this is that, eventually, I come around to their point of view and that makes me feel even worse. Of course, they were right all along. And of course, I still feel like calling them idiots. But the reality is that I'm the only idiot in this conversation. I'm the one who can't see the obvious.
So, the tweaking I'm doing again on the Novel is as a direct result of all the small critiques I received from various idiots... I mean, people... over the last six months. You were right. I was wrong. And if I'd spent more time fixing the problems and less time defending them, I'd have been done a lot sooner.
Having said that, I want to show that this is a constant pattern in my life. I had a stunning insight the other day. I imagined some of the things I said to my ex-girlfriend fifteen years ago, from her perspective at the time, and I came across looking like a completely insane child. Wow. That would crush my ego if I weren't fifteen years removed from said events. But, see, for fourteen years I struggled with the question of why we broke up and its only now that I'm beginning to understand that one of us wasn't really ready for a relationship at the time... and it wasn't her.
I think wisdom is God's way of letting our psyches and egos down gently. We are, after all, ridiculous creatures with grandiose pretentions about our place in the world. If we were to suddenly be able to see where we actually stood in the scheme of things, our brains would probably melt. But with gradual, dawning wisdom, we can recognize ourselves from a distance, see ourselves in a new light and with a new understanding of our own insignificance, and turn our attention to more important matters.
I am a fool for not listening to the great advice I've been getting about my novel, but I'm remedying that now. I only ask that those who have criticized my work keep doing so. I need to be reshaped and remolded as much as, if not more, than my novel. And the only way that will happen is if someone shines the light of truth on my pathetic and glorious reality.
I'm on the slow boat to redemption, but I am still floating.
My revelations this week come more recently from the past six months and more deeply from events 15 years ago. We'll start with the mea culpas from less than six months ago, while they're still fresh in my mind.
So as not to be unduly influenced by more creative minds around me, I have perfected a filter around my creative brain which weeds out pretty much all stimulae into the creative centers of my tiny mind. This is helpful when I see movies like Back to the Future and decide that what my spine tingling thriller about renegade priests needs most is a time traveling Delorean. With the filter in place, egregious mistakes in tone and plot are eradicated before they are foist upon my readers. With the filters taken out, I am no better than most television executives siezing upon whatever the latest piece of gossip is in order to create a temporary hit TV show.
Where this filter is not helpful, however, is when I ask for help by having people read my stories and give me feedback. In the old days, if anyone criticized my work, I jumped all over them and told them why they were idiots. This had a negative impact on my ability to recruit people to read my stories. I have since learned to keep those spring loaded responses locked safely in my head. However, I will still dispute their criticism even as I'm hearing it (I completely disagree. It's imperative for the Priest to have this time traveling Delorean... don't you see?). I've dropped the idiot from my defense, but the tone is there. I still feel really bad about it. I'm my own worst enemy. Please, please help me read my book... IDIOT! No, wait... that's not what I meant at all...
The point of all this is that, eventually, I come around to their point of view and that makes me feel even worse. Of course, they were right all along. And of course, I still feel like calling them idiots. But the reality is that I'm the only idiot in this conversation. I'm the one who can't see the obvious.
So, the tweaking I'm doing again on the Novel is as a direct result of all the small critiques I received from various idiots... I mean, people... over the last six months. You were right. I was wrong. And if I'd spent more time fixing the problems and less time defending them, I'd have been done a lot sooner.
Having said that, I want to show that this is a constant pattern in my life. I had a stunning insight the other day. I imagined some of the things I said to my ex-girlfriend fifteen years ago, from her perspective at the time, and I came across looking like a completely insane child. Wow. That would crush my ego if I weren't fifteen years removed from said events. But, see, for fourteen years I struggled with the question of why we broke up and its only now that I'm beginning to understand that one of us wasn't really ready for a relationship at the time... and it wasn't her.
I think wisdom is God's way of letting our psyches and egos down gently. We are, after all, ridiculous creatures with grandiose pretentions about our place in the world. If we were to suddenly be able to see where we actually stood in the scheme of things, our brains would probably melt. But with gradual, dawning wisdom, we can recognize ourselves from a distance, see ourselves in a new light and with a new understanding of our own insignificance, and turn our attention to more important matters.
I am a fool for not listening to the great advice I've been getting about my novel, but I'm remedying that now. I only ask that those who have criticized my work keep doing so. I need to be reshaped and remolded as much as, if not more, than my novel. And the only way that will happen is if someone shines the light of truth on my pathetic and glorious reality.
I'm on the slow boat to redemption, but I am still floating.
Monday, October 16, 2006
While You Were Worshipping...
I have discovered the ultimate Sabbath Saving sport that is being played on Sunday and that very well may quickly become the new American Past Time. But I'll come back to that in a minute. First, there is some housecleaning to do...
ICON welcomes White Tie & Tales to its impressive and elite Blogging Roll Call. This new blog from newcomer Bill Robison (my accountant - who will likely give me a good rate for advertising his blog ;) is sure to be very impressive, if sporadic. During the next couple of years, he will be detailing his life story. While not quite as thrilling and soap operaish as Pat's over at Past Imperfect, this saga does have one thing that Pat doesn't - San Francisco as a background. And, I may be biased, but that's really something that can't be beat. So, please click on the link here on my page and go read the first installment of White Tie & Tales and encourage my, ahem, accountant to continue his writing career.
For those of you wondering whatever happened to my novel, you can rest easy - I burned it and am starting all over, which clearly explains global warming. Okay, as tempting as that sounds, its not remotely true. Nothing explains global warming. But I digress... oh yeah, the novel. I have begun work on it again after a lengthy absence. I spent an hour on it last night and changed the first Act title to In Full Measure (a biblical reference to Isaiah... honest!). Tonight, I might actually change a word or two of the actual text, then I'll really be on fire. Or as we in the biz like to say, En Fuego!
Now back to our regularly scheduled sabbath busting sports business.
Baseball used to be our national pasttime. But who has time for it anymore? Nobody can afford the organ you need to play in between each batter and now that they're adding cheerleaders... fuggedaboutit.
Basketball came and went as our national pasttime as fast as it took Michael Jordan to dunk over just about anyone. Too many of them, if you know what I mean... (ticket scalpers is what I meant, so keep your lurid thoughts to yourself!)
Football is a great Sunday game - full of violence and whining and violence and beer commercials and violence. A much more appropriate game for the American psyche, but, unfortunately, one which most of us do not actually play. Why? Because we'd much rather sit on our couch, drink beer, flip channels, and eat pizza on Sunday. While this is all good, and somewhat technically qualifies as a Sabbath Saving type event where we do as little as possible on Sunday, much to the chagrin of our families, it doesn't actually qualify as a sport. Though Bridge does, which confuses me.
The reason Couch Potatoing doesn't qualify as a sport is because there is no competition involved. Believe me, if there was, we'd dominate the sport and own the Olympic Gold Metal in this event. Nobody out couch potatoes an American. You could go into just about any neighborhood in this country, knock down a couple of doors, and drag a few lazy SOB's off their couches and create a Dream Team. But, once again, no sport, no sports governing body, no Olympic inclusion. Its all politics, I'm sure.
BUUUUTTTTTTT... there is an alternative that allows you to save Sabbath time by sitting on your butt, watching TV, doing nothing, drinking beer, eating pizza, etc... AND still compete in a sport! This is surely an American invention - A sport where you don't actually have to do Anything!
I'm talking, of course, about Fantasy Football.
You select a team, put them together, and then let them play. While you're sitting on the couch, etc... obeying God's command to rest on His holy day, you are actually competing for points and prestige and valuable prizes. (valuable prizes not available in every league - see league rules for details. Questionable legal babble may apply.)
Just yesterday, while I lay on my bed, remote in hand, contemplating massive title changes to my novel, I was racking up touchdown after touchdown after touchdown - putting points on the board with the greatest of ease. And still completely Sabbath safe from having to lift a finger in work. I may not yet be a five tool Sunday Sports Star (I didn't have pizza or beer, but I did have a remote and I was in a reclined position), but I hope to someday be counted amongst the Sunday elites racking up points on earth and in Heaven at the same time.
(Legal disclaimer: Fantasy Football may, in fact, violate the spirit of the Sabbath. ICON does not endorse its own claims. Play responsibly.)
ICON welcomes White Tie & Tales to its impressive and elite Blogging Roll Call. This new blog from newcomer Bill Robison (my accountant - who will likely give me a good rate for advertising his blog ;) is sure to be very impressive, if sporadic. During the next couple of years, he will be detailing his life story. While not quite as thrilling and soap operaish as Pat's over at Past Imperfect, this saga does have one thing that Pat doesn't - San Francisco as a background. And, I may be biased, but that's really something that can't be beat. So, please click on the link here on my page and go read the first installment of White Tie & Tales and encourage my, ahem, accountant to continue his writing career.
For those of you wondering whatever happened to my novel, you can rest easy - I burned it and am starting all over, which clearly explains global warming. Okay, as tempting as that sounds, its not remotely true. Nothing explains global warming. But I digress... oh yeah, the novel. I have begun work on it again after a lengthy absence. I spent an hour on it last night and changed the first Act title to In Full Measure (a biblical reference to Isaiah... honest!). Tonight, I might actually change a word or two of the actual text, then I'll really be on fire. Or as we in the biz like to say, En Fuego!
Now back to our regularly scheduled sabbath busting sports business.
Baseball used to be our national pasttime. But who has time for it anymore? Nobody can afford the organ you need to play in between each batter and now that they're adding cheerleaders... fuggedaboutit.
Basketball came and went as our national pasttime as fast as it took Michael Jordan to dunk over just about anyone. Too many of them, if you know what I mean... (ticket scalpers is what I meant, so keep your lurid thoughts to yourself!)
Football is a great Sunday game - full of violence and whining and violence and beer commercials and violence. A much more appropriate game for the American psyche, but, unfortunately, one which most of us do not actually play. Why? Because we'd much rather sit on our couch, drink beer, flip channels, and eat pizza on Sunday. While this is all good, and somewhat technically qualifies as a Sabbath Saving type event where we do as little as possible on Sunday, much to the chagrin of our families, it doesn't actually qualify as a sport. Though Bridge does, which confuses me.
The reason Couch Potatoing doesn't qualify as a sport is because there is no competition involved. Believe me, if there was, we'd dominate the sport and own the Olympic Gold Metal in this event. Nobody out couch potatoes an American. You could go into just about any neighborhood in this country, knock down a couple of doors, and drag a few lazy SOB's off their couches and create a Dream Team. But, once again, no sport, no sports governing body, no Olympic inclusion. Its all politics, I'm sure.
BUUUUTTTTTTT... there is an alternative that allows you to save Sabbath time by sitting on your butt, watching TV, doing nothing, drinking beer, eating pizza, etc... AND still compete in a sport! This is surely an American invention - A sport where you don't actually have to do Anything!
I'm talking, of course, about Fantasy Football.
You select a team, put them together, and then let them play. While you're sitting on the couch, etc... obeying God's command to rest on His holy day, you are actually competing for points and prestige and valuable prizes. (valuable prizes not available in every league - see league rules for details. Questionable legal babble may apply.)
Just yesterday, while I lay on my bed, remote in hand, contemplating massive title changes to my novel, I was racking up touchdown after touchdown after touchdown - putting points on the board with the greatest of ease. And still completely Sabbath safe from having to lift a finger in work. I may not yet be a five tool Sunday Sports Star (I didn't have pizza or beer, but I did have a remote and I was in a reclined position), but I hope to someday be counted amongst the Sunday elites racking up points on earth and in Heaven at the same time.
(Legal disclaimer: Fantasy Football may, in fact, violate the spirit of the Sabbath. ICON does not endorse its own claims. Play responsibly.)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)