So I was procrastinating this evening because I'm tired... and it occurred to me that I don't want people to come to my funeral and say "Sheesh, she was always so tired!" "Yeah, I'll bet she dropped from exhaustion finally." "You know she always wanted a peaceful life, and now she's got it."
No way!
I realize that it's been an extraordinarily busy last two weeks. And I also realize that I haven't been eating right. But I'm working to eliminate excuses and work toward my goals, so I'll just own up to being part of the "tired" problem and make small changes each day for the next month to improve things. No need to heap guilt on top of the exhaustion, hey?
Recently I've had several blog thoughts but not enough time to write them out. Hopefully as I make the small changes toward not being so tired, I'll have a few extra moments in my week to blog more often. I want to share about the high school students on my early morning train, lots of changes in nature, road trip adventures with the girls, and interesting things I'm reading. But not tonight. Tonight, I'm going to honor my body's need for a good night's rest. Peaceful dreams everybody.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
What I've learned about snow
Growing up in south Texas, all snow looked the same. It was on TV or movie screens, Christmas cards and paintings. It was always perfect, crisp, white and fun.
With two New England winters under my belt now, I can say that real snow isn't like the stuff on TV. It gets dirty quickly. You want it to be light and fluffy so it's easy to get off the car and out of the driveway, but the light and fluffy stuff doesn't make snowballs.
The just right for snowballs kind of snow doesn't fall very often. And "it's almost spring snow" tends to come with rain and sleet, so that it's a heavy wet mucky mess that won't make snowballs and won't come off the car easily. Shovelling the wet stuff is a major workout. I've also learned how to make the shovel work like a snow plow - less lifting that way.
All of the shoveling and clearing off can be good for the brain too. After getting the car out yesterday, I had a profound insight about violence and the nature of God while driving Mary Grace to piano lesson.
Only trouble is, I forgot it while waiting and listening to the background sounds of two guitar lessons and three piano lessons. So what I've learned about snow is all this blog is getting today. Being a mom and a theologian aren't always complementary vocations it appears!
With two New England winters under my belt now, I can say that real snow isn't like the stuff on TV. It gets dirty quickly. You want it to be light and fluffy so it's easy to get off the car and out of the driveway, but the light and fluffy stuff doesn't make snowballs.
The just right for snowballs kind of snow doesn't fall very often. And "it's almost spring snow" tends to come with rain and sleet, so that it's a heavy wet mucky mess that won't make snowballs and won't come off the car easily. Shovelling the wet stuff is a major workout. I've also learned how to make the shovel work like a snow plow - less lifting that way.
All of the shoveling and clearing off can be good for the brain too. After getting the car out yesterday, I had a profound insight about violence and the nature of God while driving Mary Grace to piano lesson.
Only trouble is, I forgot it while waiting and listening to the background sounds of two guitar lessons and three piano lessons. So what I've learned about snow is all this blog is getting today. Being a mom and a theologian aren't always complementary vocations it appears!
Monday, March 9, 2009
can I edit these bits out?
It's confession time: I'd like to edit out parts of the Bible.
I don't suppose that's the "right" point of view, certainly not orthodox, but honestly, there are just bits I don't like and don't line up with my images of God.
When I pray, I tend to focus on the mercy and love of God, on God's demands that we live with justice, humility and mercy, on the grace of Jesus Christ and the open invitation to all to come and leave their burdens. This morning's lectionary readings bump right up against that comfortable imagery and confuse me greatly. I'd like to be a pacifist and am mostly so, fighting against my own tendencies to use words as weapons.
But then I read from Jeremiah 1, where God summons all the northern kingdoms to come and "pronounce judgement" on the people through war. And Psalm 58, in which the writer asks God to break the teeth of the wicked:
"Like a slug melting away as it moves along, like a stillborn child, may they not see the sun." "The righteous will be glad when they are avenged, when they bathe their feet in the blood of the wicked. Then men will say, 'Surely the righteous still are rewarded; surely there is a God who judges the earth.'"
This makes me so uncomfortable. How can I reconcile these passages, these images of God with Jesus telling the disciples to turn the other cheek? Certainly both are valid images of God if we take the Bible to be normative for the Christian faith?
I fully realize that we need the entirety of the Bible to help us hear the whole story of God's people, and that we need the entirety of the Bible to help us know what we can of God (as little as that may be), but I have to say, I'd rather not have the war bits, the violence against enemies and such. I also realize that the uncomfortable parts are probably where God is teaching me and stretching my mind and heart, but sheesh. Isn't there an easier way? Perhaps I should do my personal devotional time at the theology school library, with a stack of commentaries by my side to help process things!
I don't suppose that's the "right" point of view, certainly not orthodox, but honestly, there are just bits I don't like and don't line up with my images of God.
When I pray, I tend to focus on the mercy and love of God, on God's demands that we live with justice, humility and mercy, on the grace of Jesus Christ and the open invitation to all to come and leave their burdens. This morning's lectionary readings bump right up against that comfortable imagery and confuse me greatly. I'd like to be a pacifist and am mostly so, fighting against my own tendencies to use words as weapons.
But then I read from Jeremiah 1, where God summons all the northern kingdoms to come and "pronounce judgement" on the people through war. And Psalm 58, in which the writer asks God to break the teeth of the wicked:
"Like a slug melting away as it moves along, like a stillborn child, may they not see the sun." "The righteous will be glad when they are avenged, when they bathe their feet in the blood of the wicked. Then men will say, 'Surely the righteous still are rewarded; surely there is a God who judges the earth.'"
This makes me so uncomfortable. How can I reconcile these passages, these images of God with Jesus telling the disciples to turn the other cheek? Certainly both are valid images of God if we take the Bible to be normative for the Christian faith?
I fully realize that we need the entirety of the Bible to help us hear the whole story of God's people, and that we need the entirety of the Bible to help us know what we can of God (as little as that may be), but I have to say, I'd rather not have the war bits, the violence against enemies and such. I also realize that the uncomfortable parts are probably where God is teaching me and stretching my mind and heart, but sheesh. Isn't there an easier way? Perhaps I should do my personal devotional time at the theology school library, with a stack of commentaries by my side to help process things!
Sunday, March 8, 2009
persistent snows
The spirituality of persistence may be slow in coming along - but the persistence of snows, on the other hand, is quite evident. A foot on Monday, and more again this week. No matter how fast it melts off or how we're teased with sunny skies, it just keeps coming. My initial enthusiasm for "real" winter has worn right off.
The story of Hannah and her persistence, however, has not worn off. Hannah comes to mind over and over again as I pray through this topic. I wonder what it must have been like, to be one of many wives? To know that no matter how much her husband loved her, she wasn't as valuable as the other wife. Her anguished prayers haunt me.
Is Hannah an example of the spirituality of persistence? Or an example of faith? She made an outrageous promise and kept it - how it must have hurt to give up the one thing she wanted more than anything else. This morning's lectionary reading from Genesis was about God's covenant with Abraham and Sarah. I told the children at church how God promises to be with us, even when we can't see it - like the flower seeds that will grow, even if they can't see them growing under ground. Perhaps that speaks to this spirituality of persistence that has been in my mind so often - that it is true as the hymn says, in the cold and snow of winter, lies a spring that waits to be, unrevealed until its season, something God alone can see.
Which makes my heart ache. How long will the spring I'm praying for remain unrevealed? How long will the snows of suffering keep falling? Like Hannah, I keep pouring out my heart... and waiting.
The story of Hannah and her persistence, however, has not worn off. Hannah comes to mind over and over again as I pray through this topic. I wonder what it must have been like, to be one of many wives? To know that no matter how much her husband loved her, she wasn't as valuable as the other wife. Her anguished prayers haunt me.
Is Hannah an example of the spirituality of persistence? Or an example of faith? She made an outrageous promise and kept it - how it must have hurt to give up the one thing she wanted more than anything else. This morning's lectionary reading from Genesis was about God's covenant with Abraham and Sarah. I told the children at church how God promises to be with us, even when we can't see it - like the flower seeds that will grow, even if they can't see them growing under ground. Perhaps that speaks to this spirituality of persistence that has been in my mind so often - that it is true as the hymn says, in the cold and snow of winter, lies a spring that waits to be, unrevealed until its season, something God alone can see.
Which makes my heart ache. How long will the spring I'm praying for remain unrevealed? How long will the snows of suffering keep falling? Like Hannah, I keep pouring out my heart... and waiting.
Monday, March 2, 2009
March Snows and Lent Disciplines
Spring is delayed. We've had a big snow storm. Schools cancelled, people told to stay home and off the roads. Seems we'll have to wait a bit longer for warmer weather.
Lent has begun, the season of preparation for Easter. I've made Lent wait, pondering and praying what my discipine of preparation should be. Giving up a food or drink is so popular and doesn't really help me focus and prepare. I've settled on a financial sacrifice. Normally I give to the church, but many times I forget in the hustle and bustle of regular life. So I have decided to be more intentional about giving locally, and to make some contributions to special causes I feel are doing good work quietly.
Seasons of waiting and quiet growth. Requires things like digging out and being patient. I'd rather skip right to the beautiful blossoms of spring, but I know I'll enjoy it more if I do the work, listen through the silence, and wait for God's time.
In the meantime, I'll try not to think of all the bluebonnets down in Texas, which I've heard are blooming. How I miss the Texas wildflowers in spring!
Lent has begun, the season of preparation for Easter. I've made Lent wait, pondering and praying what my discipine of preparation should be. Giving up a food or drink is so popular and doesn't really help me focus and prepare. I've settled on a financial sacrifice. Normally I give to the church, but many times I forget in the hustle and bustle of regular life. So I have decided to be more intentional about giving locally, and to make some contributions to special causes I feel are doing good work quietly.
Seasons of waiting and quiet growth. Requires things like digging out and being patient. I'd rather skip right to the beautiful blossoms of spring, but I know I'll enjoy it more if I do the work, listen through the silence, and wait for God's time.
In the meantime, I'll try not to think of all the bluebonnets down in Texas, which I've heard are blooming. How I miss the Texas wildflowers in spring!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)