Thought this was fun, so I stuck it here for all of you to check out too!
Saturday, April 21, 2007
New Feature
I've added a new feature to the sidebar of my blog. I've decided to make a list of the stuff I'm reading. I'm only going to list the non-fiction books (I read probably 2-3 novels a week, and tend to re-read novels so I don't feel a particular need to list them.) I'm also trying to make a greater effort to read things that are spiritually challenging - to pay attention in my own life to the quotes on spiritual reading from Henri Nouwen that I put here earlier in the week. As I finish a book, I'll add it to the list, with the most recently finished book being at the top of the list.
I'll probably still post pretty regularly about the stuff I'm reading, and to be honest, the list is more of a way for me to keep track of what I've read than anything else, but if you're interested, check the list out.
I'll probably still post pretty regularly about the stuff I'm reading, and to be honest, the list is more of a way for me to keep track of what I've read than anything else, but if you're interested, check the list out.
2 Year Blog Anniversary
I find it a bit hard to believe that I've been putting bits and pieces of the the things I'm thinking about up here for two years now. But I have.
So, how did I celebrate this auspicious occasion? Well, I spent four or five hours cleaning. I got up this morning, feeling somewhat motivated and well, domestic, and attacked the challenge that reorganizing and cleaning my desk presented. I threw out two garbage bags worth of papers and things I didn't need any more, made some minor repairs, did a lot of sorting and rearranging, listed to episodes of M*A*S*H* play in the background on my laptop, and just generally took my time with it. I finished off by shaking out my rug and sweeping the floor of my bedroom.
I can once again locate things on my desk, and I have space for all sorts of art and generally creative projects in the coming weeks. You can even see the chair in the corner of my room, and curl up in it again, since I took the time to tidy it up too.
I get an odd feeling of enjoyment and satisfaction from this sort of task, and get the urge to do something of the sort once every several months or so. And today was the day. I may even sort through the drawers of my dresser and the shelves of my closet later!
I'm thinking of taking a morning off from church tomorrow. Time to enjoy the quiet and an empty house. This next week is going to be quite busy (a movie with Megs on Monday night, a church leadership meeting on Thursday night, visiting some friends in Canmore on Friday night and Saturday, a baby shower next Sunday after church, and a concert - Steve Bell - next Sunday evening that my company is sponsoring as a benefit for MCC Alberta's AIDS ministry) and the idea of some quiet time tomorrow morning is appealing. But I'm playing it by ear - we'll see what I feel like later tonight and tomorrow morning!
So, how did I celebrate this auspicious occasion? Well, I spent four or five hours cleaning. I got up this morning, feeling somewhat motivated and well, domestic, and attacked the challenge that reorganizing and cleaning my desk presented. I threw out two garbage bags worth of papers and things I didn't need any more, made some minor repairs, did a lot of sorting and rearranging, listed to episodes of M*A*S*H* play in the background on my laptop, and just generally took my time with it. I finished off by shaking out my rug and sweeping the floor of my bedroom.
I can once again locate things on my desk, and I have space for all sorts of art and generally creative projects in the coming weeks. You can even see the chair in the corner of my room, and curl up in it again, since I took the time to tidy it up too.
I get an odd feeling of enjoyment and satisfaction from this sort of task, and get the urge to do something of the sort once every several months or so. And today was the day. I may even sort through the drawers of my dresser and the shelves of my closet later!
I'm thinking of taking a morning off from church tomorrow. Time to enjoy the quiet and an empty house. This next week is going to be quite busy (a movie with Megs on Monday night, a church leadership meeting on Thursday night, visiting some friends in Canmore on Friday night and Saturday, a baby shower next Sunday after church, and a concert - Steve Bell - next Sunday evening that my company is sponsoring as a benefit for MCC Alberta's AIDS ministry) and the idea of some quiet time tomorrow morning is appealing. But I'm playing it by ear - we'll see what I feel like later tonight and tomorrow morning!
Friday, April 20, 2007
"Special" Birthday
There are lots of things I could talk to you about today.
I could tell you that I’ve arbitrarily declared today to be December 1, because the two inches (and still coming down) of snow we have is acceptable for December 1, but in my opinion is completely not acceptable for April 20th.
I could tell you how glad I am for a cup of passion tea this morning.
I could tell you about eating pizza with Megs last night, and starting to watch a movie, getting twenty minutes in and turning it off and going shopping instead. (I can’t even tell you the title of the movie, because I’ve forgotten it. It was crude, dirty, had David Duchovny and Julianne Moore and Maggie Gyllenhal and someone else, and sounded so inoccuous on the back cover that neither one of us remembered to look at the rating or the comments that go with the rating. Can I just say that I have an incredibly bad track record of picking independent or lesser known movies – the ones I pick are almost invariably BAD. So if you’re ever watching a movie like that with me, don’t let me pick!)
I could tell you about the attitudes I was raised with, the ones I was thinking about on the way to work this morning as I slogged through the snow from the train station. The ones that say that spiritual warfare is something that only happens in lesser developed countries. The ones that say that poverty is something I should care about if it’s a starving African child, because they can’t help themselves, but something I should look down on if it’s a north-american street person, because really, why don’t they just get it together and find a job?
Or, now that I’ve got those other things out of my system, I could tell you why April 20 is a special day for me. I think I’ll just go ahead and do that.
You see, 19 years ago today, I knelt down on the dirty chocolate brown shag carpet that was then in our living room (can you say 1970’s leftovers!?) beside my mom, and, in the simplistic language that a four year old uses, “asked Jesus into my life.”
My parents made a big deal out of this. They made a big deal out of reminding us every year, honoring this choice, the commitment we’d made. They’d remind us, even when we forgot about our “special birthday” (which we also called our “spiritual birthday”). We had a special dinner plate that we used to use for special occasions. I don’t remember exactly what all was on it, but it was blue and white, and I remember that it said “you are loved” on the rim somewhere. Basically, it showed up for each of us two or three times a year, on our actual birthday, on our “special” birthday, and maybe when something really exciting happened. My parents believed in celebrating our unique accomplishments and special occasions.
I resented April 20 for a number of years. All those years of depression, when I was praying that God would simply release me from the “unknowing” commitment I made at age four. I was begging God to let go of me, because it seemed that all I’d ever had from him was pain. If he wasn’t going to let me go, I told him, then just let me die, because I was done living.
Last year, my healing was new, and I was embroiled in the midst of caring for some very “messy” people, handling some messy stuff in my own life, and job hunting, and April 20th passed without notice or incident.
But today, I’m grateful. I’m grateful to the four year-old me, the simple faith that handed my life to Jesus. I’m grateful in hindsight for all the years that Jesus walked with me, through pain and depression and suffering. And I’m grateful for my relationship with him today. I’m grateful that I can say that I’ve known Jesus and even tried to walk with him for most of the last nineteen years. I’m grateful for the healing he’s brought. I’m grateful for the deep heart knowledge of his love for me. And so, inside me today, I’m celebrating. I’m reveling in a significant moment. I’m enjoying my “special birthday.” And I’m passing birthday wishes on to you. May you know Christ, be found in him, not having a rightousness of your own that comes from the law, but a righteousness that is through faith in him. May you know Christ, and the power of his resurrection, and the fellowship of sharing in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death and so somehow to attain to the resurrection of the dead. (Philippians 3).
I could tell you that I’ve arbitrarily declared today to be December 1, because the two inches (and still coming down) of snow we have is acceptable for December 1, but in my opinion is completely not acceptable for April 20th.
I could tell you how glad I am for a cup of passion tea this morning.
I could tell you about eating pizza with Megs last night, and starting to watch a movie, getting twenty minutes in and turning it off and going shopping instead. (I can’t even tell you the title of the movie, because I’ve forgotten it. It was crude, dirty, had David Duchovny and Julianne Moore and Maggie Gyllenhal and someone else, and sounded so inoccuous on the back cover that neither one of us remembered to look at the rating or the comments that go with the rating. Can I just say that I have an incredibly bad track record of picking independent or lesser known movies – the ones I pick are almost invariably BAD. So if you’re ever watching a movie like that with me, don’t let me pick!)
I could tell you about the attitudes I was raised with, the ones I was thinking about on the way to work this morning as I slogged through the snow from the train station. The ones that say that spiritual warfare is something that only happens in lesser developed countries. The ones that say that poverty is something I should care about if it’s a starving African child, because they can’t help themselves, but something I should look down on if it’s a north-american street person, because really, why don’t they just get it together and find a job?
Or, now that I’ve got those other things out of my system, I could tell you why April 20 is a special day for me. I think I’ll just go ahead and do that.
You see, 19 years ago today, I knelt down on the dirty chocolate brown shag carpet that was then in our living room (can you say 1970’s leftovers!?) beside my mom, and, in the simplistic language that a four year old uses, “asked Jesus into my life.”
My parents made a big deal out of this. They made a big deal out of reminding us every year, honoring this choice, the commitment we’d made. They’d remind us, even when we forgot about our “special birthday” (which we also called our “spiritual birthday”). We had a special dinner plate that we used to use for special occasions. I don’t remember exactly what all was on it, but it was blue and white, and I remember that it said “you are loved” on the rim somewhere. Basically, it showed up for each of us two or three times a year, on our actual birthday, on our “special” birthday, and maybe when something really exciting happened. My parents believed in celebrating our unique accomplishments and special occasions.
I resented April 20 for a number of years. All those years of depression, when I was praying that God would simply release me from the “unknowing” commitment I made at age four. I was begging God to let go of me, because it seemed that all I’d ever had from him was pain. If he wasn’t going to let me go, I told him, then just let me die, because I was done living.
Last year, my healing was new, and I was embroiled in the midst of caring for some very “messy” people, handling some messy stuff in my own life, and job hunting, and April 20th passed without notice or incident.
But today, I’m grateful. I’m grateful to the four year-old me, the simple faith that handed my life to Jesus. I’m grateful in hindsight for all the years that Jesus walked with me, through pain and depression and suffering. And I’m grateful for my relationship with him today. I’m grateful that I can say that I’ve known Jesus and even tried to walk with him for most of the last nineteen years. I’m grateful for the healing he’s brought. I’m grateful for the deep heart knowledge of his love for me. And so, inside me today, I’m celebrating. I’m reveling in a significant moment. I’m enjoying my “special birthday.” And I’m passing birthday wishes on to you. May you know Christ, be found in him, not having a rightousness of your own that comes from the law, but a righteousness that is through faith in him. May you know Christ, and the power of his resurrection, and the fellowship of sharing in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death and so somehow to attain to the resurrection of the dead. (Philippians 3).
Thursday, April 19, 2007
Two Quick Things
First, check out this article. I found it fascinating. What would happen if you had a virtuoso violinist play a $3.5 million dollar stradavarius in a subway station in a major American city? Would anyone notice? Would he make any money? And what does this say about North Americans and their ability to slow down and appreciate beauty? Read the article to find out!
Second, I have one more bit from Henri Nouwen (because so often the emails are so good that I just have to share them). This bit follows from what I posted yesterday.
Freedom Attracts
When you are interiorly free you call others to freedom, whether you know it or not. Freedom attracts wherever it appears. A free man or a free woman creates a space where others feel safe and want to dwell. Our world is so full of conditions, demands, requirements, and obligations that we often wonder what is expected of us. But when we meet a truly free person, there are no expectations, only an invitation to reach into ourselves and discover there our own freedom.
Where true inner freedom is, there is God. And where God is, there we want to be.
Second, I have one more bit from Henri Nouwen (because so often the emails are so good that I just have to share them). This bit follows from what I posted yesterday.
Freedom Attracts
When you are interiorly free you call others to freedom, whether you know it or not. Freedom attracts wherever it appears. A free man or a free woman creates a space where others feel safe and want to dwell. Our world is so full of conditions, demands, requirements, and obligations that we often wonder what is expected of us. But when we meet a truly free person, there are no expectations, only an invitation to reach into ourselves and discover there our own freedom.
Where true inner freedom is, there is God. And where God is, there we want to be.
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