Sunday, May 23, 2010
Monday, February 02, 2009
Dating, schmating...
Yeah, well.
I have a long-standing love/hate relationship with the whole issue of dating. Historically, it's been: if I'm dating, I (mostly) love it; if I'm not, I (pretty much) hate it. Not so much anymore. Life has a way of changing the way you look at things.
I read the book "I Kissed Dating Goodbye" for the first time a very long time ago. Hated it. LOATHED it. Thought Joshua Harris was totally full of...THAT stuff. But I was married at the time. Married and full of that "I have someone now, so I feel bad that other people are struggling with this, but...good luck with it!" arrogance that married people seem to assimilate when they cross that no-longer-single threshold. Granted, Joshua Harris was very young and didn't know much about "real" relationships when he wrote the book, but...I was still arrogant. I disagreed with the concept of courtship and I laughed at people who thought it was THE answer.
Fast-forward a few years. I was divorced. My best guy friend, Chad, was also divorced and pursuing a relationship with someone. He read the book. Told me that I needed to read it again with new eyes and, since I usually listen to him when he tells me something's important, I bought a copy and followed his advice. Amazingly enough, it made a whole lot of sense to me...in a way it never did when I was married, because I was where I thought I would never again be: "back on the market". (It makes me cringe to even type those words.)
Now, mind you, I don't buy into the whole "I Kissed Dating Goodbye" philosophy, but I DO agree that the American version of dating is a pretty crappy way of doing business, especially for those of us who are coming at the process from the standpoint of a follower of Jesus. And that's especially true for those of us who are single-again. And don't even get me started on those "singles ministry" things that are nothing but meat markets for the so-called pious. Seriously. Don't get me started.
God really did a number on me last summer when he brought me to the place where I realized that my hope for a relationship had not been in HIM, but in hope itself. I said I believed in God's provision, but when he told me, clearly and distinctly, that I had to put "hope" on an altar and sacrifice it, I was devastated. I cried for days, because if I didn't have this hope, what did I have? MY answer to that question was "nothing". My dreams for the future were built around the strong hope that I had for God to provide my "soulmate" (or at least something close). My dreams weren't built around God. And he summarily knocked them all down with one fell swoop. My new directive: Be content, no matter what my situation (ie, relationship status).
All this to say: I hate the process. I hate the "let's get dressed up and pretend we're wildly funny and intelligent and amazing and fascinating" junk. That's not life. It's stupid and not what we're created for. There's nothing wrong with getting dressed up and having fun, but when it's nothing but a performance, it's just wrong. And we end up marrying someone we don't even know, because we think he/she is really the persona we're dating. It's a game. And I don't do games. Which is probably why I've not had a date in...well, a very long time. ;-)
I love those sweet, epiphanal moments when they happen. I had one recently. I was talking to a friend about how tough it is, no matter on which side of a relationship you find yourself, because neither place is the nirvana we all (on the other side) think it will be. My friend told me that she and her husband are best friends (he says the same thing--isn't that cool?) And I realized that's what I want. My heart's desire is a relationship where I wake up one morning and realize that I've fallen in love with my best friend...and not really know when it happened. No games, no show, no pretenses...no masks.
I'm no longer willing to settle for anything less. Which means I'm probably STILL not going to have a date in a very long time...and that's just fine.
I have a long-standing love/hate relationship with the whole issue of dating. Historically, it's been: if I'm dating, I (mostly) love it; if I'm not, I (pretty much) hate it. Not so much anymore. Life has a way of changing the way you look at things.
I read the book "I Kissed Dating Goodbye" for the first time a very long time ago. Hated it. LOATHED it. Thought Joshua Harris was totally full of...THAT stuff. But I was married at the time. Married and full of that "I have someone now, so I feel bad that other people are struggling with this, but...good luck with it!" arrogance that married people seem to assimilate when they cross that no-longer-single threshold. Granted, Joshua Harris was very young and didn't know much about "real" relationships when he wrote the book, but...I was still arrogant. I disagreed with the concept of courtship and I laughed at people who thought it was THE answer.
Fast-forward a few years. I was divorced. My best guy friend, Chad, was also divorced and pursuing a relationship with someone. He read the book. Told me that I needed to read it again with new eyes and, since I usually listen to him when he tells me something's important, I bought a copy and followed his advice. Amazingly enough, it made a whole lot of sense to me...in a way it never did when I was married, because I was where I thought I would never again be: "back on the market". (It makes me cringe to even type those words.)
Now, mind you, I don't buy into the whole "I Kissed Dating Goodbye" philosophy, but I DO agree that the American version of dating is a pretty crappy way of doing business, especially for those of us who are coming at the process from the standpoint of a follower of Jesus. And that's especially true for those of us who are single-again. And don't even get me started on those "singles ministry" things that are nothing but meat markets for the so-called pious. Seriously. Don't get me started.
God really did a number on me last summer when he brought me to the place where I realized that my hope for a relationship had not been in HIM, but in hope itself. I said I believed in God's provision, but when he told me, clearly and distinctly, that I had to put "hope" on an altar and sacrifice it, I was devastated. I cried for days, because if I didn't have this hope, what did I have? MY answer to that question was "nothing". My dreams for the future were built around the strong hope that I had for God to provide my "soulmate" (or at least something close). My dreams weren't built around God. And he summarily knocked them all down with one fell swoop. My new directive: Be content, no matter what my situation (ie, relationship status).
All this to say: I hate the process. I hate the "let's get dressed up and pretend we're wildly funny and intelligent and amazing and fascinating" junk. That's not life. It's stupid and not what we're created for. There's nothing wrong with getting dressed up and having fun, but when it's nothing but a performance, it's just wrong. And we end up marrying someone we don't even know, because we think he/she is really the persona we're dating. It's a game. And I don't do games. Which is probably why I've not had a date in...well, a very long time. ;-)
I love those sweet, epiphanal moments when they happen. I had one recently. I was talking to a friend about how tough it is, no matter on which side of a relationship you find yourself, because neither place is the nirvana we all (on the other side) think it will be. My friend told me that she and her husband are best friends (he says the same thing--isn't that cool?) And I realized that's what I want. My heart's desire is a relationship where I wake up one morning and realize that I've fallen in love with my best friend...and not really know when it happened. No games, no show, no pretenses...no masks.
I'm no longer willing to settle for anything less. Which means I'm probably STILL not going to have a date in a very long time...and that's just fine.
Saturday, January 31, 2009
25 Ties that Bind...
It all started right here on the internet. On that marvelous little social networking site called Facebook. Someone (I don’t even remember which friend it was now) posted a note entitled “25 Random Things About Me” with instructions to write your own list of 25 random things about yourself and “tag” other friends, who in turn will make their own lists and pass it on to THEIR friends…and so on.
It started a firestorm. Every time I checked my new messages, someone else had written a list. And I would learn something I never knew about someone I may have known for YEARS (some of these people I’ve known since kindergarten--a really long time!!) I have friends who’ve done some pretty amazing things in their lives--gone on huge adventures, raised beautiful children, served as foreign missionaries, pastored churches, or battled life-threatening diseases and won the battle. I have friends whose lives have been more placid and less “exciting” but who’ve had strong influence for good in the lives of their children and the people around them. I’m really blessed with some incredible and diverse friends…all over the world.
I have some pretty incredible friends in my church family, too. As I read one friend’s list, though, I realized that I’d just learned more about him in 30 seconds of reading than I had learned in the past couple of years of “knowing” him from church. That’s sad. That's my family. God calls us a “body”. And if He calls us that, I know He expects us to act like one. To really know each other…and that means more than just knowing names and faces. Saying “good morning” as we pass each other on the way to our pew or shaking hands and hugging during “pass the peace” time isn’t all there is to it.
A body is…well, a BODY. Connected. Intertwined. The veins that carry oxygen through the bloodstream to feed cells in my fingertip are the same veins that carry the same oxygen down to my big toe. When someone steps on my foot, my nerve network alerts my entire body…and my entire body reacts to jerk my foot away from the pain. As a living representation of the body of Christ, as the hands and feet and voice of Jesus to this world and to each other, we carry that same responsibility to be connected and intertwined and inseparable from the people in that little “body” of believers we call our church family. When someone is hurting, our “nerve network” should be so attuned to that hurt that we instantly do what is required to alleviate the pain, just as we would instantly do what’s required to alleviate pain in our physical bodies.
I don’t necessarily need to know 25 random things about everyone in my local gathering of Christ-followers (although I wouldn‘t mind!), but I DO want to know my family better. And with that knowledge, I’ll know God better, too.
It started a firestorm. Every time I checked my new messages, someone else had written a list. And I would learn something I never knew about someone I may have known for YEARS (some of these people I’ve known since kindergarten--a really long time!!) I have friends who’ve done some pretty amazing things in their lives--gone on huge adventures, raised beautiful children, served as foreign missionaries, pastored churches, or battled life-threatening diseases and won the battle. I have friends whose lives have been more placid and less “exciting” but who’ve had strong influence for good in the lives of their children and the people around them. I’m really blessed with some incredible and diverse friends…all over the world.
I have some pretty incredible friends in my church family, too. As I read one friend’s list, though, I realized that I’d just learned more about him in 30 seconds of reading than I had learned in the past couple of years of “knowing” him from church. That’s sad. That's my family. God calls us a “body”. And if He calls us that, I know He expects us to act like one. To really know each other…and that means more than just knowing names and faces. Saying “good morning” as we pass each other on the way to our pew or shaking hands and hugging during “pass the peace” time isn’t all there is to it.
A body is…well, a BODY. Connected. Intertwined. The veins that carry oxygen through the bloodstream to feed cells in my fingertip are the same veins that carry the same oxygen down to my big toe. When someone steps on my foot, my nerve network alerts my entire body…and my entire body reacts to jerk my foot away from the pain. As a living representation of the body of Christ, as the hands and feet and voice of Jesus to this world and to each other, we carry that same responsibility to be connected and intertwined and inseparable from the people in that little “body” of believers we call our church family. When someone is hurting, our “nerve network” should be so attuned to that hurt that we instantly do what is required to alleviate the pain, just as we would instantly do what’s required to alleviate pain in our physical bodies.
I don’t necessarily need to know 25 random things about everyone in my local gathering of Christ-followers (although I wouldn‘t mind!), but I DO want to know my family better. And with that knowledge, I’ll know God better, too.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
My encouragement for the day...
...and any other day I'm feeling blah/purposeless/crabby/useless:
The spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me; he has sent me to bring good news to the oppressed, to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and release to the prisoners; to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor, and the day of vengeance of our God; to comfort all who mourn; to provide for those who mourn in Zion -- to give them a garland instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, the mantle of praise instead of a faint spirit.
- Isaiah 61:1-3
The spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me; he has sent me to bring good news to the oppressed, to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and release to the prisoners; to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor, and the day of vengeance of our God; to comfort all who mourn; to provide for those who mourn in Zion -- to give them a garland instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, the mantle of praise instead of a faint spirit.
- Isaiah 61:1-3
Saturday, January 03, 2009
Happy 2009!!
New Year's Eve at the Snyder home. It's always a crazy costume party. Theme for this year was: Christmas movie characters.
Thursday, December 25, 2008
"The goodness of the Lord in the land of the living..."
I'll spare you the gory details of my most recent pity party, which took place about 2 hours ago, but I WILL tell you what started it--and what ended it.
I came home from my family's Christmas celebration tonight, unloaded my bag of "goodies" and crashed on the couch. Alone. Just the cat and me, staring at my beautifully decorated, but now giftless tree, thinking about the day and what it means/doesn't mean (well, the cat was probably thinking about hacking up a furball or something, but *I* was, of course, thinking holy thoughts about the baby Jesus in his golden diaper. Or something similar.) ;-)
I've talked to so many people this Christmas season (including 4 yesterday) who are sad, depressed, disheartened, lonely, discouraged. It's tough, no matter what the reason, if you're alone on Christmas. It's tough for me. I mean, honestly, I would much rather come home and curl up on the couch with a glass of wine and someone I love than be sitting here by myself, fighting back those nasty, self-pitying tears. I'm human. I'm created for community and for relationship. I may be mostly "ok" with this ongoing, sometimes seemingly endless, season of singleness, but today, I DON'T like it one bit.
And then I got a phone call from a dear friend with whom I'd not spoken since...last April, I think. She was one of the long-term volunteers at God's Katrina Kitchen. An unlikely friend, because we have almost nothing in common except for the fact that we love God and were given the amazing privilege of serving the "marginalized" people along the post-Katrina Mississippi Gulf Coast. She and her husband have most recently been working with Hurricane Ike clean-up in the Galveston area.
The whole time we were talking, I was simultaneously mentally kicking myself for my big pity party and thanking God for providing a friend who felt prompted to call at the exact moment I really needed her. As we caught up on where our lives have taken us in the past 8 months, she shared a story about a time in her life when she felt the same way I'm feeling right now...she didn't blithely offer any of the stupid platitudes that make me want to slap people when the inane words come out of their mouths, nor did she jump in and wallow with me--she just told me that she understood how I felt and she knew that God would use this time for good, even though it might not seem good at the moment.
I know I'll see it someday. And that knowing makes being curled up on my couch alone tonight much more bearable.
I came home from my family's Christmas celebration tonight, unloaded my bag of "goodies" and crashed on the couch. Alone. Just the cat and me, staring at my beautifully decorated, but now giftless tree, thinking about the day and what it means/doesn't mean (well, the cat was probably thinking about hacking up a furball or something, but *I* was, of course, thinking holy thoughts about the baby Jesus in his golden diaper. Or something similar.) ;-)
I've talked to so many people this Christmas season (including 4 yesterday) who are sad, depressed, disheartened, lonely, discouraged. It's tough, no matter what the reason, if you're alone on Christmas. It's tough for me. I mean, honestly, I would much rather come home and curl up on the couch with a glass of wine and someone I love than be sitting here by myself, fighting back those nasty, self-pitying tears. I'm human. I'm created for community and for relationship. I may be mostly "ok" with this ongoing, sometimes seemingly endless, season of singleness, but today, I DON'T like it one bit.
And then I got a phone call from a dear friend with whom I'd not spoken since...last April, I think. She was one of the long-term volunteers at God's Katrina Kitchen. An unlikely friend, because we have almost nothing in common except for the fact that we love God and were given the amazing privilege of serving the "marginalized" people along the post-Katrina Mississippi Gulf Coast. She and her husband have most recently been working with Hurricane Ike clean-up in the Galveston area.
The whole time we were talking, I was simultaneously mentally kicking myself for my big pity party and thanking God for providing a friend who felt prompted to call at the exact moment I really needed her. As we caught up on where our lives have taken us in the past 8 months, she shared a story about a time in her life when she felt the same way I'm feeling right now...she didn't blithely offer any of the stupid platitudes that make me want to slap people when the inane words come out of their mouths, nor did she jump in and wallow with me--she just told me that she understood how I felt and she knew that God would use this time for good, even though it might not seem good at the moment.
I know I'll see it someday. And that knowing makes being curled up on my couch alone tonight much more bearable.
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Lesson learned...
...again.
Life really does go on. And you can choose to sit, molding and petrifying on the sidelines, wrapped in the tattered shawl of the past, watching all those beautiful brave people out on the dance floor, enjoying themselves while you rot away in your misery...or you can leap right into the scary-as-hell fray and grab a little of the good stuff for yourself.
Case in point (not really what I'm talking about, but it's a good enough example): I fell on the ice today. I slipped on the second step on my front porch and bounced (really, I did) down the remaining three. I could've crawled right back into my house and stayed there until all the ice melted and the world was safe again, but I got up, laughed it off, brushed the ice off my butt, limped to my car and went back to work. I'm really sore. I'll be worse tomorrow. But the ice didn't win.
*I* am going to win this. I'm done with the sidelined, feeling-sorry-for-myself crap. Fear of the unknown is a lot better than living an empty life. Fear of the unknown is, actually, kind of exciting.
Game on.
Life really does go on. And you can choose to sit, molding and petrifying on the sidelines, wrapped in the tattered shawl of the past, watching all those beautiful brave people out on the dance floor, enjoying themselves while you rot away in your misery...or you can leap right into the scary-as-hell fray and grab a little of the good stuff for yourself.
Case in point (not really what I'm talking about, but it's a good enough example): I fell on the ice today. I slipped on the second step on my front porch and bounced (really, I did) down the remaining three. I could've crawled right back into my house and stayed there until all the ice melted and the world was safe again, but I got up, laughed it off, brushed the ice off my butt, limped to my car and went back to work. I'm really sore. I'll be worse tomorrow. But the ice didn't win.
*I* am going to win this. I'm done with the sidelined, feeling-sorry-for-myself crap. Fear of the unknown is a lot better than living an empty life. Fear of the unknown is, actually, kind of exciting.
Game on.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Hiatus not of my choosing...
Aside from the usual flurry of pre-Christmas activity, I've been plagued with a horrible cold that sidelined me for several days last week and has now turned into bronchitis. Per doctor's orders, I've been lying on the couch, doing NOTHING but resting, taking my meds and drinking gallons of water, addressing Christmas cards, and watching Season 2 of The Office.
I'm going to be out of town this weekend and I'm having a party at my house Monday night. Oh, well. I normally do a big thing for the Girls' Game Night Christmas party. Not this year. I'm thinking pizza. Or something else I can order from somewhere. The cooking thing is just not happening. This is a challenge for me--I've been spouting off about Christmas being more about spending time with our loved ones and less time/money on the insanity...now I get to put that into practice for real and all the little "Martha Stewart" cells in me are screaming in horror. Serves me right, eh? ;-)
Back to The Office. What a strange show. I can't honestly say I "like" it, but I'm drawn with a weirdly morbid fascination to each episode--I can't quit watching it. And I've even laughed out loud (well, as "out loud" as someone with bronchitis and laryngitis CAN laugh, that is!) a few times tonight. At the strangest things. Probably because it's a strange show and I'm...well, a little eccentric myself. I'm glad I finally gave into the pressure of my peers.
I'm working on a couple of posts that I hope to finish in the not-too-distant future. A man I deeply admired died last week and his death and funeral and the gaping crater he's left in the lives of many have affected me profoundly. God is challenging me to (even though I could never fill his shoes) step up to the plate and be what I profess to be. Not sure what that's going to look like right now.
The Griswold Family Christmas Tree in my living room (well, it's actually just a little Fraser Fir) either has the infamous squirrel hiding in it or an ornament is slipping off its branch--I hear strange noises emerging from it and the cat is sleeping peacefully on the back of the couch. Yep. The ornament just crashed to the floor. Good thing nothing is breakable on my tree.
And that's pretty much the scope of my wisdom for tonight. Too much "stuff" in my head for much deep thought.
I'm going to be out of town this weekend and I'm having a party at my house Monday night. Oh, well. I normally do a big thing for the Girls' Game Night Christmas party. Not this year. I'm thinking pizza. Or something else I can order from somewhere. The cooking thing is just not happening. This is a challenge for me--I've been spouting off about Christmas being more about spending time with our loved ones and less time/money on the insanity...now I get to put that into practice for real and all the little "Martha Stewart" cells in me are screaming in horror. Serves me right, eh? ;-)
Back to The Office. What a strange show. I can't honestly say I "like" it, but I'm drawn with a weirdly morbid fascination to each episode--I can't quit watching it. And I've even laughed out loud (well, as "out loud" as someone with bronchitis and laryngitis CAN laugh, that is!) a few times tonight. At the strangest things. Probably because it's a strange show and I'm...well, a little eccentric myself. I'm glad I finally gave into the pressure of my peers.
I'm working on a couple of posts that I hope to finish in the not-too-distant future. A man I deeply admired died last week and his death and funeral and the gaping crater he's left in the lives of many have affected me profoundly. God is challenging me to (even though I could never fill his shoes) step up to the plate and be what I profess to be. Not sure what that's going to look like right now.
The Griswold Family Christmas Tree in my living room (well, it's actually just a little Fraser Fir) either has the infamous squirrel hiding in it or an ornament is slipping off its branch--I hear strange noises emerging from it and the cat is sleeping peacefully on the back of the couch. Yep. The ornament just crashed to the floor. Good thing nothing is breakable on my tree.
And that's pretty much the scope of my wisdom for tonight. Too much "stuff" in my head for much deep thought.
Friday, November 28, 2008
When worlds collide...
On most days, I thank God I don't have cable/dish/rabbit ears for my TV. I get along quite well, thank you, with watching a couple of shows online every week and keeping up with the major world events through Yahoo. And this time of year, most definitely, I'm especially grateful. I've been exposed to enough "Get up EARLY and don't miss the bargains!!" Black Friday commercials while at friends' homes the past couple of days to reassure me that I could live quite contentedly for the rest of my life without bringing any of that back into my peacefully oblivious existence.
I chose to participate in "Buy Nothing Day" today...a grassroots movement of sorts to attempt to take back this day from the mainline, media-driven, blindly-accepted, consumer insanity. While people are dying in the name of Black Friday bargains (yes, DYING--a WalMart employee was trampled to death early this morning in a 5:00 AM stampede) and getting injured, I stayed home, slept in, ate some Thanksgiving leftovers and started working through the backlog of snail mail/email/blog updates that have been piling up on me during the busy last couple of weeks.
And here's what I learned:
While people are mindlessly stampeding others for the sake of a $200 Xbox or an $800 50" plasma TV or an $88 Barbie Jeep or a $20 Hannah Montana beanbag chair, my C4C Disaster Relief (formerly God's Katrina Kitchen) friends Vickie, Vance and Ryan Weesner, Steve and Lezlie Anderson, and Mary Edna Thompson are serving those in Galveston who remain homeless after the devastation of Hurricane Ike (the mostly forgotten because politics were more important, but third most costly disaster in the US at $21 BILLION in losses). And Beverly Hayden, an amazingly talented lawyer-turned-photographer-turned-world-adventurer, is trampling through the garbage dump in Phnom Penh, Cambodia, handing out bread, apples, oranges, hugs, and love to the more than 300 hungry, sometimes naked and shoeless, beautiful children who live there in the midst of the stench and toxic waste.
A vast chasm between worlds, eh? One that leaves me feeling helpless and hopeless and broken and paralyzed...and wondering how the hell we got here. And if there's really a way to get out...or if it's too late to even have the smallest shred of hope that things can ever change.
I chose to participate in "Buy Nothing Day" today...a grassroots movement of sorts to attempt to take back this day from the mainline, media-driven, blindly-accepted, consumer insanity. While people are dying in the name of Black Friday bargains (yes, DYING--a WalMart employee was trampled to death early this morning in a 5:00 AM stampede) and getting injured, I stayed home, slept in, ate some Thanksgiving leftovers and started working through the backlog of snail mail/email/blog updates that have been piling up on me during the busy last couple of weeks.
And here's what I learned:
While people are mindlessly stampeding others for the sake of a $200 Xbox or an $800 50" plasma TV or an $88 Barbie Jeep or a $20 Hannah Montana beanbag chair, my C4C Disaster Relief (formerly God's Katrina Kitchen) friends Vickie, Vance and Ryan Weesner, Steve and Lezlie Anderson, and Mary Edna Thompson are serving those in Galveston who remain homeless after the devastation of Hurricane Ike (the mostly forgotten because politics were more important, but third most costly disaster in the US at $21 BILLION in losses). And Beverly Hayden, an amazingly talented lawyer-turned-photographer-turned-world-adventurer, is trampling through the garbage dump in Phnom Penh, Cambodia, handing out bread, apples, oranges, hugs, and love to the more than 300 hungry, sometimes naked and shoeless, beautiful children who live there in the midst of the stench and toxic waste.
A vast chasm between worlds, eh? One that leaves me feeling helpless and hopeless and broken and paralyzed...and wondering how the hell we got here. And if there's really a way to get out...or if it's too late to even have the smallest shred of hope that things can ever change.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
Thanks, Alanis...
She's certainly been my "soul sister" in the angry days--there's nothing better than cranking up SFIJ or Jagged Little Pill and singing out the rage. But. Alanis has a sweeter sound these days. Kinda grown up and content and peaceful...even when life hurts. Kinda blissful. That's where I am right now. And, even though I'm not in Cali, this song pretty much fits my mood right now...
"Giggling Again for No Reason"--Alanis Morissette
I am driving in my car up highway one
I left LA without telling anyone
There were people who needed something from me
But I am sure they’ll get along fine on their own
Oh this state of ecstasy
Nothing but road could ever give to me
This liberty wind in my face
And I’m giggling again for no reason
I am dancing with my friends in elation
We’ve taken adventures to new levels of fun
I can feel the bones are smiling in my body
I can see the meltings of inhibition
Oh this state of ecstasy
Nothing but road could ever give to me
This liberty wind in my face
And I’m giggling again for no reason
I’m reeling jubilation
Triumphant in delight
I am at home in this high five
And I’m smiling for no reason
I am sitting at the set of cali sun
We’ve gotten quiet for its’ last precious seconds
I can feel the salt of the sea on my skin
And we still hear the echoes of abandon
Oh this state of ecstasy
Nothing but road could ever give to me
This liberty wind in my face
And I’m giggling again for no reason
"Giggling Again for No Reason"--Alanis Morissette
I am driving in my car up highway one
I left LA without telling anyone
There were people who needed something from me
But I am sure they’ll get along fine on their own
Oh this state of ecstasy
Nothing but road could ever give to me
This liberty wind in my face
And I’m giggling again for no reason
I am dancing with my friends in elation
We’ve taken adventures to new levels of fun
I can feel the bones are smiling in my body
I can see the meltings of inhibition
Oh this state of ecstasy
Nothing but road could ever give to me
This liberty wind in my face
And I’m giggling again for no reason
I’m reeling jubilation
Triumphant in delight
I am at home in this high five
And I’m smiling for no reason
I am sitting at the set of cali sun
We’ve gotten quiet for its’ last precious seconds
I can feel the salt of the sea on my skin
And we still hear the echoes of abandon
Oh this state of ecstasy
Nothing but road could ever give to me
This liberty wind in my face
And I’m giggling again for no reason
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Random gratefulness...
...or maybe "gratefulness for random things". In my best Erin-esque form (meaning bulleted, because I love it when she does that). :-)
- I spent the weekend at a church retreat. Not what I expected. Not really, even what I hoped for. But better than both. We talked a lot about what it means to be a "church" and a "family" and a "body". It would have been wonderful if more of our church family could have participated--many didn't, for a variety of reasons. But the ones who were there were changed...in small ways or big ways, but all in at least one good way, simply by virtue of the fact that we were acting like family. It was good.
- At the retreat, I got to hang out a lot with one of my oldest, dearest friends in my church family. He's the one who invited us to the church to begin with. He's the one who got me involved in Godstock. He's the one who wouldn't let me disassociate myself from Godstock when I was in the middle of my divorce. He's the one who listened to me rant and rave, let me cry, cried with me, prayed with me...and mostly just listened and stuck right by my side when things were horrible and sad. Our lives have taken different paths and we rarely see each other outside of Sunday mornings anymore. But we sat and talked a lot this weekend and I loved it. He's a godly man who's full of wisdom, but his voice is quiet and his demeanor is unassuming...and people don't listen to him nearly as much as they should. I'm so glad I got the chance to sit down and listen (again) to his heart.
- I'm cooking next weekend for a bunch of high school/college people. Which means I get to hang out with them. Which makes me feel young and hopeful. I love convo...and I especially love when it's at our church--it always helps me "see with eyes anew" to quote from my favorite Chad song.
- I spent last weekend in Texas with Chad. I needed the time away. I needed the time with my friend who likes to think he's my big brother. Actually, *I* like to think that, too. I'm grateful for our long, LONG friendship...never picture-perfect (hey, it's us--how could it be?!), but precious and affirming (almost) always.
- My job lately has been overwhelming and stressful and sometimes horrible, but I'm blessed to have a friend who understands and speaks peace and encouragement and integrity and desperately-needed laughter into my life and just diffuses all that stress and horribleness and makes it seem like nothing. Words can't express how grateful I am...I won't even try. It's beyond measure.
- I'm warm tonight. I bought an old handmade quilt at an auction years ago, because I wanted something pretty to hang on the quilt rack my granddad made for me. I needed something warm to take to the retreat this weekend and couldn't find my blanket, so I grabbed this quilt instead. It kept me warm all weekend and I realized how silly it was for me to keep something "for show" when I could snuggle up in it and feel warm and comfy and happy. So, I'm all wrapped up in my "new" old quilt and I'm so happy and comfy, I may start purring any moment.
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Reading between the poles...
I've taken a little hiatus lately, because...well, because I really haven't had much to say, which is quite unusual. I took a small, much-needed vacation (really just a long weekend), have spent some time catching up on reading, and I've been working on "perfecting" my knitting skills (which will take a LONG time, since I'm still laboring over the first stitch I learned!)
When I got home Tuesday night, I had well over 100 unread emails in my inbox. I've been weeding through them, reading them a few at a time, and I'm finally caught up...that's a good feeling! As I was scrolling through the last of them today, something happened that made me stop in my tracks and really think.
I'm on an email list from Sojourners--a daily message containing a Bible verse pertaining to social justice and a thought-provoking quote from someone on poverty, justice, peace, etc. The email also contains ads for various Sojo publications, mostly small studies designed for home groups on a variety of socially just subjects. Today's email had an ad for a study on Christians and nonviolence (a subject near and dear to my heart right now, as I explore what it means to be a pacifist in the gun-toting, blow-'em-all-to-hell atmosphere in which our country seems to have found itself lately) and a study called "A Vision for Overcoming Poverty", also a subject I tackle every day--both in my workplace and out in the "real world".
Those subjects inspire me. To think less of myself and more of others. To do more than think. To give up that new movie/pair of earrings/book/coat and act more like the woman I say I am...that one who understands what being a "community" or "body" means, the one whose heart breaks at the thought of people going hungry or not having warm clothing for winter and shares what I have with someone else instead of thinking of my own selfish "wants". I stopped to remember how incredibly blessed I am here in my beautiful little warm house with plenty of food to eat and warm clothing to keep me toasty on cold days. I'm not "wealthy" by the standards of this country, but I'm blessed with more than enough.
And then I clicked to the next email. From MarthaStewart.com. An article, complete with beautiful photos of beautiful food, telling me how to have the most lavish Thanksgiving dinner yet. And decorate my whole house for the occasion with candles and gorgeous (expensive) fabrics and turkey-patterned china and all that good stuff.
Wow. What a contrast. Polar opposites.
My pastor is the former executive director at a not-too-distant rescue mission/homeless shelter. I read "Under the Overpasses" daily. The best thing I've ever done in my life is cook and serve meals to hurting people at God's Katrina Kitchen. For a moment, I pictured the two worlds colliding...perfectly coiffed and polished Martha serving turkey and all the fabulous trimmings on her beautiful china to the men and women at the Mission. Or under the big tent in Gulfport. One of those pendulum swing things...where do we find the balance? I refuse to stop believing that, as Shane says, "another world is possible". It's all around us. But unless we take at least ONE step in that direction, we will never make it.
But the poles are magnets. And somewhere, right in the middle, isn't there a spot where the two magnetic forces, working against each other, will hold a piece of metal in delicate, tenuous balance? That's what I want to see. I want to hang in that balance. Anyone else?
When I got home Tuesday night, I had well over 100 unread emails in my inbox. I've been weeding through them, reading them a few at a time, and I'm finally caught up...that's a good feeling! As I was scrolling through the last of them today, something happened that made me stop in my tracks and really think.
I'm on an email list from Sojourners--a daily message containing a Bible verse pertaining to social justice and a thought-provoking quote from someone on poverty, justice, peace, etc. The email also contains ads for various Sojo publications, mostly small studies designed for home groups on a variety of socially just subjects. Today's email had an ad for a study on Christians and nonviolence (a subject near and dear to my heart right now, as I explore what it means to be a pacifist in the gun-toting, blow-'em-all-to-hell atmosphere in which our country seems to have found itself lately) and a study called "A Vision for Overcoming Poverty", also a subject I tackle every day--both in my workplace and out in the "real world".
Those subjects inspire me. To think less of myself and more of others. To do more than think. To give up that new movie/pair of earrings/book/coat and act more like the woman I say I am...that one who understands what being a "community" or "body" means, the one whose heart breaks at the thought of people going hungry or not having warm clothing for winter and shares what I have with someone else instead of thinking of my own selfish "wants". I stopped to remember how incredibly blessed I am here in my beautiful little warm house with plenty of food to eat and warm clothing to keep me toasty on cold days. I'm not "wealthy" by the standards of this country, but I'm blessed with more than enough.
And then I clicked to the next email. From MarthaStewart.com. An article, complete with beautiful photos of beautiful food, telling me how to have the most lavish Thanksgiving dinner yet. And decorate my whole house for the occasion with candles and gorgeous (expensive) fabrics and turkey-patterned china and all that good stuff.
Wow. What a contrast. Polar opposites.
My pastor is the former executive director at a not-too-distant rescue mission/homeless shelter. I read "Under the Overpasses" daily. The best thing I've ever done in my life is cook and serve meals to hurting people at God's Katrina Kitchen. For a moment, I pictured the two worlds colliding...perfectly coiffed and polished Martha serving turkey and all the fabulous trimmings on her beautiful china to the men and women at the Mission. Or under the big tent in Gulfport. One of those pendulum swing things...where do we find the balance? I refuse to stop believing that, as Shane says, "another world is possible". It's all around us. But unless we take at least ONE step in that direction, we will never make it.
But the poles are magnets. And somewhere, right in the middle, isn't there a spot where the two magnetic forces, working against each other, will hold a piece of metal in delicate, tenuous balance? That's what I want to see. I want to hang in that balance. Anyone else?
Saturday, November 01, 2008
Don't feed the trolls...
...ahh, but it's SO tempting!!
In the past couple of weeks, someone with whom I'm (MOST unfortunately) acquainted but have never (thankfully--and let's keep it that way!) met face-to-face has been posting anonymous ugly, hateful, vengeful, rude comments on the blogs of people whom I love. I was also the victim of Madame Troll's vitriolic spite awhile back.
I guess I shouldn't be amazed that someone who claims to be a believer and spouts scripture to "back up" her crazy-ass rants ("crazy" being the key word here) would waste so much time (even as she accuses other people of wasting time online) attacking people who are "bad" solely by virtue of association.
My natural reaction is to go on the defensive and fight back. I guarantee if it's a battle of words, I'll win, because I know a lot of them...and I can use them well. But is that productive? And does that not put me right in the same category in which I've put her? And maybe worse, because she is, without doubt, suffering from some sort of mental illness--no one in their right mind behaves in such an atrocious manner.
I've never been a fan of the whole "WWJD" thing, because I'm never a fan of mass-produced crap, especially not crap that's supposed to "spread the gospel". Whatev. But in this situation, I have to stop and think about it. How would Jesus, if he had a blog, react in the face of such undeserved hatred? It's not in me to love this woman. It's not really even in me to have the slightest bit of compassion for the obviously wretched life circumstances in which she's found herself (self-created or not).
But God surely has some compassion and love reserved just for her...maybe someday she'll find the person in whom it's been placed. And maybe I can take a miniscule step (not even really a step--maybe just a VERY slight leaning) in that direction by not following the basic instinct I have to invite her to fully engage in battle with me.
This is NOT what I want to do, mind you. But, for the moment, I'm choosing to take the higher ground and give her that "grace of free will" that my beautiful and oh-so-wise girl wrote about here. It's tough, sometimes, to be a lover of God.
In the past couple of weeks, someone with whom I'm (MOST unfortunately) acquainted but have never (thankfully--and let's keep it that way!) met face-to-face has been posting anonymous ugly, hateful, vengeful, rude comments on the blogs of people whom I love. I was also the victim of Madame Troll's vitriolic spite awhile back.
I guess I shouldn't be amazed that someone who claims to be a believer and spouts scripture to "back up" her crazy-ass rants ("crazy" being the key word here) would waste so much time (even as she accuses other people of wasting time online) attacking people who are "bad" solely by virtue of association.
My natural reaction is to go on the defensive and fight back. I guarantee if it's a battle of words, I'll win, because I know a lot of them...and I can use them well. But is that productive? And does that not put me right in the same category in which I've put her? And maybe worse, because she is, without doubt, suffering from some sort of mental illness--no one in their right mind behaves in such an atrocious manner.
I've never been a fan of the whole "WWJD" thing, because I'm never a fan of mass-produced crap, especially not crap that's supposed to "spread the gospel". Whatev. But in this situation, I have to stop and think about it. How would Jesus, if he had a blog, react in the face of such undeserved hatred? It's not in me to love this woman. It's not really even in me to have the slightest bit of compassion for the obviously wretched life circumstances in which she's found herself (self-created or not).
But God surely has some compassion and love reserved just for her...maybe someday she'll find the person in whom it's been placed. And maybe I can take a miniscule step (not even really a step--maybe just a VERY slight leaning) in that direction by not following the basic instinct I have to invite her to fully engage in battle with me.
This is NOT what I want to do, mind you. But, for the moment, I'm choosing to take the higher ground and give her that "grace of free will" that my beautiful and oh-so-wise girl wrote about here. It's tough, sometimes, to be a lover of God.
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Oprah and I...
...have something in common. :-)
I've recently discovered Mrs. Meyer's Clean Day, an amazing line of "aromatherapeutic" cleaning products--mostly natural ingredients (no ammonia or chlorine--yay!), biodegradable/environmentally friendly, no nasty anti-bacterial chemicals, and fragranced by essential oils.
I bought some of the basil-scented laundry detergent and all I can say is, I'm in love.
I've always thought it was silly for people to sit around discussing the finer points of cleaning products, so I'll just tell you that this detergent makes my whole house smell good--having a load of laundry on the drying rack is like burning a basil candle. And my clothes smell great!
When I told my mom about it, she informed me that Oprah uses this product line and talks about it on her show "all the time" (I find it funny to think that Oprah is one of "those" people who sits around discussing the finer points of cleaning products...).
It's good to know that Oprah has such good taste... ;-)
Monday, October 20, 2008
I'm a student!
I'm taking a photography class...and I'm pretty excited about it.
Tonight was the first class of an 8-week mini-semester. Dr. Scott talked mostly about terms that will be important to know as we discuss how cameras function. Tonight was a lot of technical stuff, which is exactly what I need to know. I have this amazing camera that I know can do some pretty amazing stuff in the right hands (its former owner was a wedding photographer) and I need some outside influence to get me disciplined enough to learn the "techy" stuff so I can make the artistic images I want to do.
I even have homework. I haven't had homework for 20 years. And, as some self-imposed "extra credit", I also have a really cool book on using light that Peck gave me to read. I AM going to learn this. And, after I learn this, I'm going to learn how to use PhotoShop--I have CS3 and haven't taken time to read ANY of the tutorials yet, so when I open it, it's like trying to read Swahili.
I know I can only rely on my artistic/creative nature so far--at some point, I've got to learn the technology so I can take full advantage of my creativity. I "see" shots all the time--I'm constantly framing things in my head, but when I don't know how to change my settings to take full advantage of lighting, etc., I'm doing a huge disservice to myself. So, I'm going to learn it.
Tonight was the first class of an 8-week mini-semester. Dr. Scott talked mostly about terms that will be important to know as we discuss how cameras function. Tonight was a lot of technical stuff, which is exactly what I need to know. I have this amazing camera that I know can do some pretty amazing stuff in the right hands (its former owner was a wedding photographer) and I need some outside influence to get me disciplined enough to learn the "techy" stuff so I can make the artistic images I want to do.
I even have homework. I haven't had homework for 20 years. And, as some self-imposed "extra credit", I also have a really cool book on using light that Peck gave me to read. I AM going to learn this. And, after I learn this, I'm going to learn how to use PhotoShop--I have CS3 and haven't taken time to read ANY of the tutorials yet, so when I open it, it's like trying to read Swahili.
I know I can only rely on my artistic/creative nature so far--at some point, I've got to learn the technology so I can take full advantage of my creativity. I "see" shots all the time--I'm constantly framing things in my head, but when I don't know how to change my settings to take full advantage of lighting, etc., I'm doing a huge disservice to myself. So, I'm going to learn it.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
"Andrew Peterson is my friend"...
I have one of those shirts. One of those OLD shirts from back in the day. Back when Andy looked like he was about 15 years old but was singing "old soul" songs--the words coming out of his mouth never looked like they matched with the boyish face.
He's still singing the songs of an old soul. And though he doesn't look "old", he does finally look grown up, so the lyrics aren't quite so incongruous with the face anymore.
Andy and I aren't really "friends" in the way I define friendship, even though I have a shirt that says he's my friend. I could count on one hand the times we've had "real" conversation. But he knows my name and, obviously, I know his. Our paths don't cross much--every couple of years or so at a show and we chitchat a bit. I baked him my famous chocolate cake once. And I think I made a lemon tart for him several years ago. (I know how artists are normally fed by their venues when they're out on the road.) And I'm pretty certain that if he and Jamie and their children lived in this town, we would be "real" friends--I know they would fit in perfectly with my little gang of ragamuffinish friends.
I'm holding a copy of his new CD in my hot little hands right now. (Well, not while I'm typing, but you get the idea.) I listened to it all day Friday. And I'm convinced all over again that Andrew Peterson is a genius. And by "genius", I mean "he writes songs that I understand". Songs that tear my heart out. Songs that remind me that, when no one else does, God understands.
Here's the song that I've played over and over and over the past couple of days. This is SO where I'm at right now. It always seems that when I think I'm finally getting myself back together, God shows me just how NOT together I am. The past year has been much harder on me than I've been thinking it was. But that's another blog post for another day...for now, I'll let Andy tell the world how I've been feeling. I'm glad he's my "friend". :-)
"I've Got News"--Andrew Peterson
So you think I'm something special, like I know a thing or two?
Like my eyes don't ever wander, like my aim is always true?
So you think I'm not a dirty rotten scoundrel through and through?
Lady, I've got news for you.
So you think that you're the only one to cry yourself to sleep?
That you're the only one who's scared they all forget you when you leave?
So you think that you're the only one whose heart is black and blue?
Listen, I've got news for you.
I might as well just tell you that it's true: listen, I've got news for you.
So you think you don't need anyone to love you?
So you think you don't need anyone to love? But you do.
So you say there is no hope. Maybe God is dead and gone.
So you think that he can't break a heart that's harder than a stone?
So you feel so wrecked and dirty, he could never make you new?
Man, have I got news for you.
I'm so compelled to tell you that it's true, so true: listen, I've got news for you.
I've got good news for you.
He's still singing the songs of an old soul. And though he doesn't look "old", he does finally look grown up, so the lyrics aren't quite so incongruous with the face anymore.
Andy and I aren't really "friends" in the way I define friendship, even though I have a shirt that says he's my friend. I could count on one hand the times we've had "real" conversation. But he knows my name and, obviously, I know his. Our paths don't cross much--every couple of years or so at a show and we chitchat a bit. I baked him my famous chocolate cake once. And I think I made a lemon tart for him several years ago. (I know how artists are normally fed by their venues when they're out on the road.) And I'm pretty certain that if he and Jamie and their children lived in this town, we would be "real" friends--I know they would fit in perfectly with my little gang of ragamuffinish friends.
I'm holding a copy of his new CD in my hot little hands right now. (Well, not while I'm typing, but you get the idea.) I listened to it all day Friday. And I'm convinced all over again that Andrew Peterson is a genius. And by "genius", I mean "he writes songs that I understand". Songs that tear my heart out. Songs that remind me that, when no one else does, God understands.
Here's the song that I've played over and over and over the past couple of days. This is SO where I'm at right now. It always seems that when I think I'm finally getting myself back together, God shows me just how NOT together I am. The past year has been much harder on me than I've been thinking it was. But that's another blog post for another day...for now, I'll let Andy tell the world how I've been feeling. I'm glad he's my "friend". :-)
"I've Got News"--Andrew Peterson
So you think I'm something special, like I know a thing or two?
Like my eyes don't ever wander, like my aim is always true?
So you think I'm not a dirty rotten scoundrel through and through?
Lady, I've got news for you.
So you think that you're the only one to cry yourself to sleep?
That you're the only one who's scared they all forget you when you leave?
So you think that you're the only one whose heart is black and blue?
Listen, I've got news for you.
I might as well just tell you that it's true: listen, I've got news for you.
So you think you don't need anyone to love you?
So you think you don't need anyone to love? But you do.
So you say there is no hope. Maybe God is dead and gone.
So you think that he can't break a heart that's harder than a stone?
So you feel so wrecked and dirty, he could never make you new?
Man, have I got news for you.
I'm so compelled to tell you that it's true, so true: listen, I've got news for you.
I've got good news for you.
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
My love/hate relationship with FaceBook...
Unless you're my blog's RSS Feed Reader on FaceBook, this is a pointless post. I moved the RSS Feed box from the Boxes page to the Wall page and now it won't display until the application updates itself. So...I'm posting something to get it to do just that.
Technology just irritates me sometimes.
Technology just irritates me sometimes.
Monday, October 13, 2008
When the boss is away...
...the sluggards will play. No...make that SLUGS.
Before I left for the weekend, I got all the laundry washed and hung up on the drying rack in my laundry room.
When I went to collect said laundry for folding today, I noticed something shiny on the first shirt I picked up. And then saw that same shiny stuff on every piece of clothing hanging on the rack.
Every shirt was covered with the snot-trail of a nasty, slimy slug. That is about the single-most disgusting thing I've ever encountered. If you know me, you know that I LOATHE slugs...the thought of one of them in my house sends me into near-hysteria. It's really almost worse, I think, than the time I found the snakeskin on the closet shelf right after we moved into my previous house.
And the worst thing is, I've re-washed all the laundry, swept, vacuumed and mopped the laundry area of the room, but I STILL can't find the icky, slimy slug. I hope it crawled under the washing machine and died. Or maybe the cat ate it. I've moved the drying rack to the kitchen and am praying that I don't find more trails when I get home tonight.
Y.U.C.K.
Before I left for the weekend, I got all the laundry washed and hung up on the drying rack in my laundry room.
When I went to collect said laundry for folding today, I noticed something shiny on the first shirt I picked up. And then saw that same shiny stuff on every piece of clothing hanging on the rack.
Every shirt was covered with the snot-trail of a nasty, slimy slug. That is about the single-most disgusting thing I've ever encountered. If you know me, you know that I LOATHE slugs...the thought of one of them in my house sends me into near-hysteria. It's really almost worse, I think, than the time I found the snakeskin on the closet shelf right after we moved into my previous house.
And the worst thing is, I've re-washed all the laundry, swept, vacuumed and mopped the laundry area of the room, but I STILL can't find the icky, slimy slug. I hope it crawled under the washing machine and died. Or maybe the cat ate it. I've moved the drying rack to the kitchen and am praying that I don't find more trails when I get home tonight.
Y.U.C.K.
Oh, people...please!!
I'm not posting the video OR a link to this because I flatly refuse to perpetuate the spread of utter nonsense, but if you really want to see it, do a search.
Someone sent me a link to a video on GodTube--it's a 2 minute clip of a microphone-clutching toddler, stomping about the stage at a church, waving his arms and shouting angry-sounding baby-talk gibberish.
People in the "audience" are clapping and cheering and shouting and (it may be the wielder of the video camera), you can hear a woman saying "thank you Jesus, thank you Jesus" over and over, as if this little knee-biter is actually preaching the Word.
There are about 70 pages of comments attached to the GodTube page. Some people think it's really cute and hilarious (I found nothing amusing about it at all and I love kids). Some found the video "disturbing" because the kid: 1) sounds angry or 2) is "entertaining" a crowd and disrupting a church service. And a lot of people (like me) found the whole thing disturbing not because of the child, but because of the crazy reactions of people who were posting responses to the video.
Aside from the semi-normal people who said it was better for the kid to be mimicking a preacher than a foul-mouthed rap singer (the anger level seems to be about the same as some of those "bad" rap singers I've heard, though), many people took it a step further and quoted scriptures and said this was fulfillment of prophecies about children leading in the last days. And then there were those "out there" people who swear the kid is speaking in tongues.
Out of a somewhat morbid fascination, I read about half of the pages before I got fed up and quit. It WAS quite interesting, though, to read the "people, if you really believed in God and were filled with the holy spirit, it would be blatantly OBVIOUS to you that this baby is saying: blah, blah, blah..." I think I read about 5 of those posts. And each one translated the "obvious" as something com-plete-ly different.
Don't get me wrong--I'm pretty sure God can do anything he wants. But. I think we as believers spend way too damned much time looking for demons lurking under every rock or "prophetic words" or gold dust or whatever, instead of setting ourselves to the task ALWAYS at hand, which is to just simply love God and let him love people through us. Certainly not glamorous, usually not very exciting, but it's WAY cooler in the end than listening to a toddler act like an angry, hate-spewing pastor.
Someone sent me a link to a video on GodTube--it's a 2 minute clip of a microphone-clutching toddler, stomping about the stage at a church, waving his arms and shouting angry-sounding baby-talk gibberish.
People in the "audience" are clapping and cheering and shouting and (it may be the wielder of the video camera), you can hear a woman saying "thank you Jesus, thank you Jesus" over and over, as if this little knee-biter is actually preaching the Word.
There are about 70 pages of comments attached to the GodTube page. Some people think it's really cute and hilarious (I found nothing amusing about it at all and I love kids). Some found the video "disturbing" because the kid: 1) sounds angry or 2) is "entertaining" a crowd and disrupting a church service. And a lot of people (like me) found the whole thing disturbing not because of the child, but because of the crazy reactions of people who were posting responses to the video.
Aside from the semi-normal people who said it was better for the kid to be mimicking a preacher than a foul-mouthed rap singer (the anger level seems to be about the same as some of those "bad" rap singers I've heard, though), many people took it a step further and quoted scriptures and said this was fulfillment of prophecies about children leading in the last days. And then there were those "out there" people who swear the kid is speaking in tongues.
Out of a somewhat morbid fascination, I read about half of the pages before I got fed up and quit. It WAS quite interesting, though, to read the "people, if you really believed in God and were filled with the holy spirit, it would be blatantly OBVIOUS to you that this baby is saying: blah, blah, blah..." I think I read about 5 of those posts. And each one translated the "obvious" as something com-plete-ly different.
Don't get me wrong--I'm pretty sure God can do anything he wants. But. I think we as believers spend way too damned much time looking for demons lurking under every rock or "prophetic words" or gold dust or whatever, instead of setting ourselves to the task ALWAYS at hand, which is to just simply love God and let him love people through us. Certainly not glamorous, usually not very exciting, but it's WAY cooler in the end than listening to a toddler act like an angry, hate-spewing pastor.
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