DR Congo's Dangerous Superstition
Because there's nothing like accusing a child of witchcraft to eliminate an extra mouth to feed.
Police Bust Chinese Slave Ring
For fairly self-explanatory reasons.
Saturday, March 22, 2008
Ready for Easter
I am laying on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, and eating a muffin.
It was an odd sort of day. An in-between, waiting, Holy Saturday sort of day.
My phone rang more times this morning than it has in the last two weeks combined.
I've prayed while baking. Prayed while doing laundry, while cooking, while washing dishes, while driving and while being with people.
Tonight I'm going to lay on the couch, and read, and maybe write.
I had some interesting encounters with people.
An old friend stopped by this morning to share a muffin and a cup of tea, and to ask me to pray.
My mom called to tell me she'd been sick for two days, and, since I was coming over anyway, would I mind mixing up the "schwartzie's potatoes" she was supposed to make for easter brunch tomorrow?
My brother and I drove to the video rental place, looked around, couldn't decide what to watch, he started to feel woozy (post-surgical weakness and drugs), so we drove home and watched the movie our dad had already rented to watch with mom.
I came home made my own dinner, and have been relaxing on the couch.
I'm glad tomorrow is Easter.
Glad that Lent will draw to a close.
I'm committed to seeing a number of things through. To walking out a variety of things alone and with friends. To living out this season I find myself in as deeply and fully as possible. To pushing through.
But I'm ready for Easter.
Ready to see and celebrate resurrection, redemption. Just for a day or so. I need to see and be reminded of joy and new life.
I'm ready for Easter.
It was an odd sort of day. An in-between, waiting, Holy Saturday sort of day.
My phone rang more times this morning than it has in the last two weeks combined.
I've prayed while baking. Prayed while doing laundry, while cooking, while washing dishes, while driving and while being with people.
Tonight I'm going to lay on the couch, and read, and maybe write.
I had some interesting encounters with people.
An old friend stopped by this morning to share a muffin and a cup of tea, and to ask me to pray.
My mom called to tell me she'd been sick for two days, and, since I was coming over anyway, would I mind mixing up the "schwartzie's potatoes" she was supposed to make for easter brunch tomorrow?
My brother and I drove to the video rental place, looked around, couldn't decide what to watch, he started to feel woozy (post-surgical weakness and drugs), so we drove home and watched the movie our dad had already rented to watch with mom.
I came home made my own dinner, and have been relaxing on the couch.
I'm glad tomorrow is Easter.
Glad that Lent will draw to a close.
I'm committed to seeing a number of things through. To walking out a variety of things alone and with friends. To living out this season I find myself in as deeply and fully as possible. To pushing through.
But I'm ready for Easter.
Ready to see and celebrate resurrection, redemption. Just for a day or so. I need to see and be reminded of joy and new life.
I'm ready for Easter.
Muffins and embodied prayer
Do you ever have moments when you just have to do something? When you can no longer sit and meditate and think? When you need to physically work out the things you are thinking about?
I have those moments quite regularly.
I woke up far too early again this morning. The curse of one who is grateful when a night of sleep extends to 5 or 6 hours. While I love days off, it can make for a very long day when you rise before 8:00 and don't return to bed until midnight or later.
Days of mostly solitary thinking and reading and processing and praying - of pushing in - have left me antsy and lonely. That feeling of waiting for the other shoe to fall, for the breakthrough to come. I was feeling that this morning.
I tried various methods of distracting myself. Watching a bit of television, or an episode of Scrubs available on the internet. Conversation with my roommate and our houseguest as they prepared to head out the door for a half-day of skiing at Lake Louise.
Finally I got up off the couch.
Clothes. Put some on. There's something about wearing things that are not what you wear to bed that lets me focus more clearly.
I began to download a documentary on spirituality and depression. You can listen to it here.
This morning, I am letting my thoughts, my creativity, my need for structure, my prayers play out in baking. I am making muffins. Something that's been on my schedule for over a week. Since before I began a fast that wouldn't permit me to eat them. I'd purchased the ingredients just before God began to call me to fast, and they sat in my fridge while I engaged in that.
Today, I am making muffins. Simple white muffins, using a recipe of my mom's from my growing up years, with just a dab of raspberry jam in the middle.
I'll take some to my brother when I go to see him later today, to watch a movie with him as he recovers from his surgery on Thursday.
Some will go to church tomorrow, for the light buffet brunch that will follow the Easter service.
Some will go with my roommate and our guest, as they make a road trip next week, visting the West Coast and enjoying the waves and water.
Some will stay with me, and I'll enjoy them, and remember how baking them let me embody my thought and prayer life in a way that soothed my soul.
I have those moments quite regularly.
I woke up far too early again this morning. The curse of one who is grateful when a night of sleep extends to 5 or 6 hours. While I love days off, it can make for a very long day when you rise before 8:00 and don't return to bed until midnight or later.
Days of mostly solitary thinking and reading and processing and praying - of pushing in - have left me antsy and lonely. That feeling of waiting for the other shoe to fall, for the breakthrough to come. I was feeling that this morning.
I tried various methods of distracting myself. Watching a bit of television, or an episode of Scrubs available on the internet. Conversation with my roommate and our houseguest as they prepared to head out the door for a half-day of skiing at Lake Louise.
Finally I got up off the couch.
Clothes. Put some on. There's something about wearing things that are not what you wear to bed that lets me focus more clearly.
I began to download a documentary on spirituality and depression. You can listen to it here.
This morning, I am letting my thoughts, my creativity, my need for structure, my prayers play out in baking. I am making muffins. Something that's been on my schedule for over a week. Since before I began a fast that wouldn't permit me to eat them. I'd purchased the ingredients just before God began to call me to fast, and they sat in my fridge while I engaged in that.
Today, I am making muffins. Simple white muffins, using a recipe of my mom's from my growing up years, with just a dab of raspberry jam in the middle.
I'll take some to my brother when I go to see him later today, to watch a movie with him as he recovers from his surgery on Thursday.
Some will go to church tomorrow, for the light buffet brunch that will follow the Easter service.
Some will go with my roommate and our guest, as they make a road trip next week, visting the West Coast and enjoying the waves and water.
Some will stay with me, and I'll enjoy them, and remember how baking them let me embody my thought and prayer life in a way that soothed my soul.
Friday, March 21, 2008
Things Catching My Attention
In the midst of reading and thinking and praying this afternoon, I've opened several webpages full of information, research etc. They are connected, though probably no one but me will be able to follow the connections. But, in the spirit of sharing, here are the things I'm staring at today:
Biblegateway.com search results
A Good Friday Blog entry I found particularly poignant from Phyllis Tickle's "The Divine Hours of Lent" blog.
An article on the Corpus Christi Massacre
The dictionary definition of "dogma"
The dictionary definition of "bear"
An article about a package bomb exploding in the home of a Christian Pastor in the West Bank
Biblegateway.com search results
A Good Friday Blog entry I found particularly poignant from Phyllis Tickle's "The Divine Hours of Lent" blog.
An article on the Corpus Christi Massacre
The dictionary definition of "dogma"
The dictionary definition of "bear"
An article about a package bomb exploding in the home of a Christian Pastor in the West Bank
Waiting for the Curtain to Tear
It's Good Friday again.
Lent is slowly drawing to a close, and I find myself waiting for the presence of the Lord to break through.
I had a dream this morning about a variety of things. Woke up just enough at 5:40 a.m. to scrawl it into my journal before heading back to sleep.
The last line I scrawled reads, "The curtain tears today."
Such a strong impression from the dream.
I spent the morning in a park with my best friend. A river basin that provides 2/3 of the drinking water for our city. It seemed appropriate to be there, in the source of water today. Together we shared bread and wine, remembering the body broken and the blood poured out for us. We walked and talked and laughed and prayed together. Sipped starbucks, and ate the hot-crossed buns we picked up at a local bakery. Enjoyed the sunshine and wind, and the hopefulness that comes with a day where spring seems to be peeking out.
This afternoon I'm enjoying the quiet of an empty house. There are literally several hundred books within easy reach from where I'm sitting, curled up in the chair in the corner of my bedroom. The chair I sit in to read and pray and think, and to meet with Jesus.
These are the reading items I've pulled off the shelves, the things I'm planning to spend the afternoon with, meditating, writing, reading, thinking and praying:
Lent is slowly drawing to a close, and I find myself waiting for the presence of the Lord to break through.
I had a dream this morning about a variety of things. Woke up just enough at 5:40 a.m. to scrawl it into my journal before heading back to sleep.
The last line I scrawled reads, "The curtain tears today."
Such a strong impression from the dream.
I spent the morning in a park with my best friend. A river basin that provides 2/3 of the drinking water for our city. It seemed appropriate to be there, in the source of water today. Together we shared bread and wine, remembering the body broken and the blood poured out for us. We walked and talked and laughed and prayed together. Sipped starbucks, and ate the hot-crossed buns we picked up at a local bakery. Enjoyed the sunshine and wind, and the hopefulness that comes with a day where spring seems to be peeking out.
This afternoon I'm enjoying the quiet of an empty house. There are literally several hundred books within easy reach from where I'm sitting, curled up in the chair in the corner of my bedroom. The chair I sit in to read and pray and think, and to meet with Jesus.
These are the reading items I've pulled off the shelves, the things I'm planning to spend the afternoon with, meditating, writing, reading, thinking and praying:
- Today's newspaper
- The Last Eyewitness: The Final Week (Chris Seay & David Capes)
- Take This Bread: A Radical Conversion (Sara Miles)
- Francis & Clare of Assisi: Selected Writings
- The Gift of Pain (Philip Yancey & Dr. Paul Brand)
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