How Original

It's New Year's Eve and I'm blogging. How original. I feel like I should get in my last post before the end of 2008. Or else.

December has gone by too quickly and I feel like I have so much to say and yet nothing to say all at the same time. North Carolina was good. Almost too good. It's nice to feel at home with two families now. Three, I guess, if you count the family that Luke and I make. Four if you count how wonderful it was to see beautiful, dear friends over break.

I don't often forget how I miss my friends from school. Wonderful women who I could talk with for hours and hours if only there was more time. But being with them makes me remember how good it is to be in community. I desperately needed the lunches that I had with Rachel, Whitney, Kristen, Emily, Kathryn, Liz and Amanda as well as the coffee break with Ashleigh. I needed to talk about the things that were happening in my life and hear about others' lives, I needed to talk about frustrations with people who have the same frustrations and listen to wise words from women who know who I am. It always amazes me how good friends just click, it doesn't matter if it's been 3 minutes or 3 months. I am truly grateful for the women in my life. Not to leave out the strong mother, mother-in-law, grandmothers, aunts and sisters I've been blessed with as well. These women show me what it means to face life and to take it for what it is and follow God into the complexity and uncertainty that lies ahead.

During lunch with Kristen, Rachel and Whitney we were talking about, well, everything, and the subject came around to grad school and the future. While discussing what I quite possibly want to do with my life I made the comment that I wasn't sure if I could be a case manager forever, since I feel things very intensely. All three of my friends burst out laughing and Kristen said "That might just be the understatement of the year...And that's why we love you." It was good to hear that...and I'm not sure why. I don't know if it's because so often I feel foolish for the tears that come to my eyes when I think about the women at Polaris or see someone shivering on the street when I have nothing to offer. Or maybe it's just because I've felt so lost in emotion that it was good to hear that it's okay because that's part of who I am. Whatever the reason, it was good to hear.

Christmas was full of laughter and excitement. I really love Christmas at my house because it isn't filled with "Oh, I want to open this present next!" but rather "Please open the present from me next!" The giving is so much more exciting than the receiving. I hope that my children are the same way. Christmas was also full of music and yummy cooking. When I first started this post (it took me several days to finish) I was sitting on the couch while my father, Christie and Katie were in the living room singing selections from The Messiah, while my mother was creating delicious treats in the kitchen. It was good to be back in Mebane for awhile.

I hope you all had a joyous Christmas, as well, and are enjoying this New Year's Eve. I still find myself struck by Christmas and what it all means. I understand Jesus coming down to Earth for us...but I'm still not sure what implications it has for my life. I once heard Scott Bessenecker (the leader of Global Urban Trek and an author for InterVarsity Press) say that Jesus' first cry of solidarity with the poor was his first cry as a baby, implying two things: (first) that we, as humans, are all poor and (second) that because Jesus showed solidarity with us we must also show solidarity with each other.

I have a confession: I don't know what solidarity looks like.

When we say unity and/or solidarity...what does that really mean? And when people are supposed to know that we are Christians by our love...what is love? True, hardcore, Godly love. The way Jesus loved. And, on top of that, how do we pursue such love if we are never going to be perfect lovers of humanity. Not only that but love gets mixed up and meshed together here in our imperfect world. Love tends to mean tolerance and support lately...and yet Jesus showed us love by becoming like us, living among us and dying for us...all the while identifying sin for what it is and calling people to holiness and perfection...

I find myself more and more reluctant to use the word "home" lately. I can feel at home with people, but for some reason no place feels like home any more. I don't quite fit in Mebane, and I definitely don't fit in DC yet. I was talking to Luke about it and he said "That's because Earth isn't our home." I think it's a profound concept. It's something I've heard a lot, but never quite felt until recently, but it's true. The things I long for...community with all, where all is fair and all people are taken care of, where complexity is gone and truth is known...these are things that will not be truly present until heaven. We work towards them now, but live in a constant "already, but not yet" state until Christ returns and all is made right again. So we work towards a Heavenly Kingdom, where brokenness is no longer felt, we pray to be made as whole as possible and serve others so that they may become whole by the grace of God. And we wait for that glorius day when all will be made right. And it will be glorious.

2008 was a crazy year. Crazy, but wonderful. Full of questions, frustrations and anger met with God's provision, grace and mercy. Full of God knocking me on my back and picking me up...but also teaching me to be patient because in some things I'm still waiting for Him to pick me up, dust me off and help me learn to walk again. I know He will though, He is good, always (I need to write that now so when I can't find a job and I'm frustrated I'll read this blog and remember...). I'm thankful that God is the same yesterday, today and tomorrow...and I look forward to learning more about how I relate to such a Constant Being and how I can learn to serve Him better, always.

Happy New Year, everyone!

Snapshots.

I don't actually know why I'm writing a blog. If you read Luke's blog you will realize that we are very different people. Today he made the comment that he blogs when he has a well thought-out message to convey in a consistent, comprehensive and lucid post. I blog when I feel the need to be creative...in his words "sometimes it makes sense and sometimes it doesn't". That is true...and I think it sums up our personalities quite nicely. So tonight is a blog that may or may not make sense.This week, in a quest for community, Luke and I made dozens and dozens of Christmas cookies (14 plates full!) to take them to our work places and around to our neighbors and people who serve our apartment complex unceasingly. Unfortunately (I can never spell that word right on the first try...) only four of our neighbors (out of 10) answered their doors. Anybody want a plate of Christmas cookies? We have six left! But it was well worth it, we were met with smiles and excitement and promises of future friends (if we put in the effort, I'm sure). One little kid was so excited about Christmas cookies that he started dancing around in front of the door. It was quite entertaining. All in all I'm glad we met our neighbors, even though we were worried at first. I hope we can get to know them better in the future. (We made gingerbread cookies, chocolate and white chocolate chip cookies, sugar cookies and brownies for the plates. While Luke was frosting one of the gingerbread cookies with white, whipped icing he started singing "little white gingerbread man, you live a life of privilege and you don't even know it...". It was pretty entertaining.)Today was not the best day I've ever had. My fellowship ends tomorrow and I found out today that the policy job I was hoping to score with Polaris will most likely be given to another fellow. All in all I know that God, therefore, has another plan for my life. I think too often though I just get frustrated when He fosters these passions in me for working towards an end to injustice and then makes me wait to hear how I can actually use my passions for something good. And sometimes I feel like I just get stuck in waiting and wishing that I could just do something. So for now I will be unemployed. After the New Year I plan on finding a part-time volunteer position (as opposed to the full-time volunteer position I've been participating in for the last three months), and applying for jobs part time. I'm frustrated, yes, but willing to work--even if it's free--for the good of others. I guess we'll see.

On a more positive note, I did notice today that if I stand in front of the glass doors on the metro my reflection is eye-level to the lights in the tunnel. Therefore, I imagined today that I could shoot lasers from my eyes the entire way home. It was fairly amusing and I hope to do it more often.

I've been thinking a lot about Jesus and how He came down to earth and all of the circumstances surrounding His birth. This comes right before I plunge into a year long read-through the Bible chronologically study, which means I won't be seriously considering Jesus during my quiet time until next October, or so. I'm always utterly amazed at the different reactions Jesus caused, even in His first days of life:

For shepherds they worshiped something truly amazing and were the first to witness a truly miraculous and world-changing event, something that I'm sure had never happened to them before.
For Herod He caused great fear.
For the Magi He caused a long journey.
For Simeon He caused extreme joy and a fulfilled promise--almost a prophecy for what was to come for many, many more.

One thing our church does during advent and on Christmas Eve is have communion to remind us why Jesus came in the first place. Instead of just celebrating the baby Jesus, we celebrate the life of Jesus, which is really what we should celebrate anyway. Last week Pastor Wong said "Christmas for Christians should be a thanksgiving that Jesus came and fulfilled His purpose and asking God how we can fulfill ours." I think that's a good way of looking at it.

Since we're leaving for North Carolina so early we're going to miss the Christmas pageant at our church, which is sad, because it's the "classic" Christmas Pageant where the little kids just act out the Christmas story with classic carols and Bible passages in between. We did get to peek in on the rehearsal on Sunday though, and it was really beautiful. Since we go to an international church there were kids of all different ethnicities in the manger scene. While I know the original Christmas was not racially different, I think it still makes Jesus smile to see a diverse group of children celebrating His birth together. Not only that, but these kids are ridiculously cute, so they just make you smile anyways.

For unto us a Child is born, y'all. Unto us a Child is given. He is Christ the LORD. Wonderful Counselor. Mighty God. Everlasting Father. Prince of Peace. Of the increase of his government and peace there will be no end. He will reign on David's throne and over his kingdom, establishing and upholding it with justice and righteousness from that time on and forever. The zeal of the LORD Almighty will accomplish this. He is the root and the offspring of David. The Bright and Morning Star.

I find it amazing how much I need those words. How much we need those words. How much the world needs those words. And think about how relevant they are.

Now when therapy is a huge trend (I'm not knocking it, I'm in therapy too).
Where earthly fathers are absent, abusive or emotionally unavailable.
Where war is rampant and corrupt governments are found pretty much everywhere.
Where a good and perfect being of righteousness and justice is desperately needed to make things right once and for all.

These words, written so long ago, are still so very comforting and necessary and longed for.

And He will be for all people.

On a lighter note than yesterday...

This made me laugh a lot. So I thought I'd share...

Do you remember these?

If so, you'll appreciate this...

Are you my mother?

When I was little I read this Dr. Seuss book called Are You My Mother?. I'm sure you've all read it, but it was about this little bird that hatched from its nest and went around asking bulldozers, dogs and other objects (animate and inanimate alike) if they were its mother. It was looking for a place to belong, a group to be in, and identity to form.

I've been feeling a lot like this little bird recently. I feel like such a stupid child for wandering around looking for a place or an identity because I think that this happens every time a major change happens in my life. I feel rocked to the core and God has to strip me of everything in order to make me realize that my core being is truly in Him. Unfortunately my head knowledge is always a few steps ahead of my heart, and so there is still a great amount of processing and heart searching that needs to go on before I can reach the inevitable conclusion that I always reach at the end of this journey that I am so often on...

I think I often find myself wishing I was someone else or somewhere else. I wish I didn't have to wrestle with hard issues or that I wasn't as passionate about things as I am. I wish I knew and was confident in my role as a wife, as a daughter, as a sister or as a friend. I'm tired, but I know that if I didn't wrestle I wouldn't be satisfied with my place in life. But wrestling is hard...and I know I'll go away with a limp (see Genesis 32)...and sometimes I'm okay with that..other times I wish I could just go away unchanged.

So much of my world has been rocked, and I feel like a lot of my naivety about how the world works is gone...for better of for worse. I hate saying that, too, because it means that I have to admit how naive I was, and, if I'm truthful, probably still am. I'm afraid because in admitting that I seem more at risk for becoming paralyzed in cynicism and anger, and part of me wishes that was allowed. It is so hard to see others, and perhaps even yourself, take one step forward and two steps back in understanding the complexity of life...

Not only that but my view of the world has gone from being frustrated about the way things are "out there" to the way things are "right here".

Right here where addictions to drugs and alcohol and sex seem to conquer any thoughts that there might be someone out there who really loves and cares for you.

Right here where I can walk by a brothel where the women within are currently going through hell on my way to a McDonald's every Tuesday for a meeting with a client who went through hell a couple of years ago.

Right here where evil seems to conquer good.

Right here where Johns pass starving and homeless men and women on the streets in order to spend their "hard earned money" on sex with someone they don't even know, causing her harm that they will never see.

I find myself frustrated and confused. Isn't love supposed to conquer all...isn't good supposed to conquer evil...

But when it comes down to it it doesn't matter how much I love our clients...that crack addiction and the fact that they have never been told that they are worth it rings louder and truer in their ears. The fact that her uncle pimped her out and addicted her to crack when she was a little girl or the fact that her boyfriend made her have sex with his friends in order to have a place to sleep at night is going to speak louder to them than my words of encouragement and love...

Kate says we're planting seeds that we probably won't get to see bloom. And part of me believes her. The other part of me breaks inside because nobody has ever given them these seeds before...

Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up. Therefore, as we have opportunity, let us do good to all people...
Galatians 6:9-10a

Don't worry, Moms, we got a Christmas tree.

Both Mom S. and Mom T. were incredibly worried about the fact that we might not be getting a Christmas tree. But it's okay, because we did. And below is the proof. (For more proof, as always, you can check out these pictures on facebook. Click here).

The original reason why we weren't going to get a Christmas tree was because we were uncertain whether or not it would be the best use of our money to get a tree when some of our neighbors can't afford food. So we compromised and got a cheap tree with a gift card left over from our wedding (Hooray for gift cards), and we bought some groceries for our neighbors instead. Anyway, I've digressed. Here are some pictures. =)

First of all, we didn't realize that our camera had a video recorder. Here is the video of us finding out (and there is sound. Oh, yes, there is sound):

And the adventure begins. This is the first tree farm Luke and I went to, Butler's Orchard in Maryland. It was good to get out of the city and fun to see the different Christmas decorations at Butler's, but the trees were small, round and way too expensive. So we just walked around and picked up tree scraps to decorate the house with later.
This was one tree that Luke and I decided that we could afford.
It was really cold. But we were happy anyways.

A huge, cute hayman at Butler's Orchard.

Our final tree selection, which we believe is just as good (if not better) than any of the trees that were twice the price at Butler's.


Isn't it cute?


The decorating music of choice (I told you I was born in the wrong decade.)


The dinner of choice (with yummy alfredo sauce!)


And, of course, it was snowing. How picture perfect.


Luke putting the Christmas lights on the tree. Notice the cup. It will turn into an angel later in front of your very eyes.


The cup.


Voila!


She's not scared. She's singing. I think she's cute. Luke says "She's just not the kind of cute you want your kids to be..."


Pretty excited about Christmas.


Here are some glimpses from around our apartment.


The whole window.


The tree (without ornaments).



Our international advent wreath from Mom and Dad S. We will also one day have an international nativity scene, but we accidentally left it in Mebane, so it'll make it's first appearance in the Teater home next year.


Christmas tree scraps on the window sill (also in the picture above, and the picture below).


Candles and tree scraps on our wall unit.


The pink wall unit, for those of you who haven't seen it painted yet.


Our dresser with a cool live centerpiece from LL Bean.


So that's our home decorated for Christmas! It was some welcome cheer in a not so cheery week. But I'll write more about that later. Here, however, for your enjoyment, is my very favorite poem, probably ever (maybe...). It's called Christmas Bells. Way to go Henry Longfellow. And FYI, I'm posting the whole poem (including two omitted stanzas that aren't used in the song I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day) because I think the whole thing is relevant (and amazing).

I heard the bells on Christmas Day
Their old, familiar carols play,
And wild and sweet
The words repeat
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

And thought how, as the day had come,
The belfries of all Christendom
Had rolled along
The unbroken song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

Till, ringing, singing on its way,
The world revolved from night to day,
A voice, a chime,
A chant sublime
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

Then from each black, accursed mouth
The cannon thundered in the South,
And with the sound
The carols drowned
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

It was as if an earthquake rent
The hearth-stones of a continent,
And made forlorn
The households born
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!

And in despair I bowed my head;
"There is no peace on earth," I said:
"For hate is strong,
And mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men!"

Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:
"God is not dead; nor doth he sleep!
The Wrong shall fail,
The Right prevail,
With peace on earth, good-will to men!"

Merry Christmas! And may peace and goodwill to all reign in our hearts this season.

Broken Heat and Wishes for Snow.

I don't have much to say tonight. I don't know why I'm blogging...you won't find many deep thoughts here, just ramblings, my mind is tired.

Delilah is drifting through our tiny apartment. It's pretty amazing how many people call into her show...just wanting someone, anyone (including a perky radio host) to listen to what they are going through. Unfortunately for Delilah there is not a Christmas song to fit every caller's situation.

Speaking of, I love the comic Pearls Before Swine. This one pertains to the part about Delilah being "perky".



(You can check out more Pearls Before Swine here. I highly recommend it.)

Our apartment is incredibly cold, due to our heat not working. Last week our apartment got incredibly hot. The floors were hot--we think it was heat coming up from downstairs. This week we're freezing...maybe the people downstairs got hot too...Maybe we could just turn up our stove to it's 575 degree high. Unfortunately for us our apartment is not too cold for bugs, which have somehow infested our kitchen. Oh the joys of small apartment living in Northeast DC.

Sometimes Delilah gives bad advice.

We went home for Thanksgiving, which was fun. We ate lots of food (and we had the leftovers tonight...yum). The weekend consisted of a very short haircut (for me), Biscuitville with my sisters, playing "fetch" with Teddy (who, thanks to mom, is actually getting kind of good...well, better than he used to be, that's for sure), cutting down a Christmas tree in the mountains and over 17 hours of driving. We did give a talk at Mom and Dad T.'s Sunday School class. It went really well, and we had a good discussion.

I did a lot of Biblical justice and righteousness (um, same word in Hebrew and Greek, by the way) research before our talk on Sunday. I'm always amazed and comforted at how it is at the center of God's being. I'm still completely unaware of how to follow in those footsteps though...knowing I will never be able to do enough but yearning to do something and ever unsure how...

Speaking of, we had our "Thank you fellows" Polaris lunch today...the fellowship is almost over. I have no idea where I'm going from here...I guess that's not too big of a surprise, seeing as God tends to keep me in the dark about my life most of the time...I guess that's His style.

I started decorating for Christmas tonight. I'll post pictures later. Luke and I are trying to decide if we want to get a Christmas tree, even if we'll only have it for a couple of weeks before heading home. We both really want one...we'll see. Being a good steward is hard.

I don't really understand freedom very much. But I'm glad God uses analogies to compare our freedom from sins to a slave being set free. I think it shows how important freedom is to God. I think that's part of the reason why I want to be an abolitionist when I grow up...

I'm thinking of getting my Masters of Social Work and Law dual degree. The major problem with that is that I'm in love with Howard's MSW program...is it a complete shot in the dark to ask them to join their MSW and JD programs just for me?

There are lots of sirens in the city. I liked going home and to the mountains where I could breathe.

I love Luke a lot, but ultimetly what will make this marriage work is our ability to be patient with each other's quirks. Here's an example from when we went to get a Christmas tree:

I do love that man...even in a teal jacket and a camo hat with the flaps pulled down. And I'm thankful that he's patient with all of my crazy quirks too.

We got invited to a Christmas party where we have to memorize our favorite part of a Christmas movie. I think I'll memorize this (or another portion of the same movie):



I love Bing Crosby and Danny Kaye.

Or this...



I also love Jimmy Stewart.

I was born in the wrong decade. They don't make movies like those anymore, that's for sure.

I think that's all for me tonight. 'Til next time, I'll be dreaming of a white Christmas.

Social Justice.

I'm looking for some verses to use tomorrow in the talk Luke and I are giving to his parents' Sunday School Class and I just read this, which I found incredibly interesting (Luke only mildly so...). Pay special attention to the bold...

Deuteronomy 27:14-26

The Levites shall recite to all the people of Israel in a loud voice:

"Cursed is the man who carves an image or casts an idol—a thing detestable to the LORD, the work of the craftsman's hands—and sets it up in secret."
Then all the people shall say, "Amen!"
"Cursed is the man who dishonors his father or his mother."
Then all the people shall say, "Amen!"
"Cursed is the man who moves his neighbor's boundary stone."
Then all the people shall say, "Amen!"
"Cursed is the man who leads the blind astray on the road."
Then all the people shall say, "Amen!"
"Cursed is the man who withholds justice from the alien, the fatherless or the widow."
Then all the people shall say, "Amen!"
"Cursed is the man who sleeps with his father's wife, for he dishonors his father's bed."
Then all the people shall say, "Amen!"
"Cursed is the man who has sexual relations with any animal."
Then all the people shall say, "Amen!"
"Cursed is the man who sleeps with his sister, the daughter of his father or the daughter of his mother."
Then all the people shall say, "Amen!"
"Cursed is the man who sleeps with his mother-in-law."
Then all the people shall say, "Amen!"
"Cursed is the man who kills his neighbor secretly."
Then all the people shall say, "Amen!"
"Cursed is the man who accepts a bribe to kill an innocent person."
Then all the people shall say, "Amen!"
"Cursed is the man who does not uphold the words of this law by carrying them out."
Then all the people shall say, "Amen!"

Among stealing and sleeping with your sister is denying justice to the alien, the fatherless and the widow...

More thoughts later.

Do You Hear What I Hear?

Said the night wind to the little lamb--
Do you see what I see?
Way up in the sky, little lamb?

Do you see what I see?

The star, the star dancing in the night
with a tail as big as a kite,
with a tail as big as a kite.

Said the little lamb to the shepherd boy--
Do you hear what I hear?
Ringing though the sky, shepherd boy?
Do you hear what I hear?
The song, the song high above the trees
with a voice as big as the sea,
with a voice as big as the sea

Said the shepherd boy to the mighty king--
Do you know what I know?
In your palace warm, mighty king,
Do you know what I know?
A Child, a Child shivers in the cold,
let us bring Him silver and gold,
let us bring Him silver and gold

Said the king to the people everywhere--
Listen to what I say!
Pray for peace, people everywhere
Listen to what I say!
The Child, the Child sleeping in the night,
He will bring us goodness and light,
He will bring us goodness and light.

I absolutely love this song--at all times of the year, really. (Especially when it is sung by Mac Powell of Third Day...).

I am still trying to wrap my mind around the concept of the working poor. While I have known theoretically that these people exist, and while I have thought about the concept before, never have I been faced with it so blatantly than while living here. I think it is easy for people (including myself) in the "middle class" (let's not even mention the "upper class" here) to forget that the working poor exist (let me reiterate--myself included). These people work hard--usually physical labor--and yet do not make a living wage. We get caught up in living, in trying to make our own ends meet and forget that there are many people who cannot make ends meet, regardless of how they manage their money.

On Tuesday night a man knocked on Luke and my door and asked us if we had any money. His wife has diabetes and needed medication and he doesn't get paid until next week. This isn't the first time he's asked us for money, and we know that he will pay us back as soon as we gets his paycheck (he has before), and so we trust him. The paying back really isn't an issue anyway, which we stated once, but after thinking about it I think it might have been a bad idea; this man had to humble himself enough to come knock on our door, the least we could have done was protected his pride by assuming that he can and will pay us back. This man works for the apartment company that Luke and I rent from...after hearing how much he makes an hour Luke and I did a little bit of figuring. At the very most, our monthly rent only pays for one hour of his work a month...and he definitely does much more for us than just an hour of work a month (that is assuming that he only gets paid for 40 hours a week, even though we're pretty sure he works more than that--maybe we should cut the Gelman Company some slack...). After expenses he can't make it until the end of the month.

And he's not the only one. There are women in the organization where I work who, though they hold down full-time positions, will sometimes catch a charge for renegading (the term used for a woman who used to work with a pimp, gets rescued from a trafficking situation or kicked out because she is pregnant, old or sick, and therefore now works in the line of prostitution on her own) because they need to make money and it is the only other way they know how (let alone all of the other emotional trauma or mental disorders they suffer from). The concept of working poor should not exist.

As I think about it all I get frustrated and angry. When I think about the lyrics above--about goodness and light, about peace brought by a baby named Jesus who would grow into a man and save the world--I wonder where the goodness is for these men and women, do they get lost in it all? But then I remember that this babe--this man named Jesus was born of a peasant, the son of a carpenter, He was a refugee, the first to worship Him were shepherds, His closest friends were fishermen and tax collectors, He hung out with lepers and women who had been prostituted...this Jesus came for the working poor, for the non-working poor, the forgotten, the untouched.

There is peace, goodness and light for all. There is hope and love regardless of capitalism or socialism, of republicans or democrats...there was a man named Jesus whose very essence was love and peace and He was--no, IS--available to all, regardless of socio-economic status, race or any other of the imaginary barriers we use to separate ourselves...He spoke of justice...of loving your neighbor as yourself (does it really get any more just than that?).

And He calls us to the same way of love and justice. Do you hear what I hear?

Around the Office.

These are bits of conversations as heard in the office today:

When discussing whether or not prostitution should be legalized...

M: NO! Because you can't trust the sick perverts!
K: Are you talking about the Johns (men who purchase sex) or the Government?

In a teleconference about decreasing the demand for sex...

These guys (Johns) are disease vectors!
They are bio hazards!
_________________________________________________________________

I will write more on the subject later, but let me just say this pimps (and they do exist) should never be glorified. The word pimpin' should never be used as a compliment. And Ice T should no longer be allowed to be a main character on Law and Order: Special Victims Unit. I just found out he is (or was...) a pimp, has written songs about pimping and his name is inspired by an ex-pimp who now writes books.

Chicken Flavored

Over the past few weeks Luke and I have been living on lots of cheap foods. Many of these cheap foods are "Chicken Flavored". Don't ask me how you get chicken flavoring (according to Luke it has something to do with squeezing a chicken...), but obviously it's cheaper (and easier) than real chicken and thus it ends up in our kitchen cabinets waiting to be eaten. As I sat eating my Chicken flavored Ramen Noodles the other day I was musing over how chicken flavoring is clearly not as good as real chicken. Even though it (may) taste like chicken it is not chicken, it does not have the nutritional value of real chicken, and therefore you cannot live off of chicken flavoring.

I kind of feel like this is the way I am living; a kind of chicken flavored life. I'm made for community--for real community. I've known this for a long time, and I truly found it during my senior year of college among good friends and long conversations laying in the grass or sitting in the Union. I miss discipleship and good friendships that seem to come naturally. I miss real community...not chicken flavored community. And yet the worst part about it is that I can't seem to motivate myself towards finding this community. Instead I read Acts and think about what it means and refuse to act out the way I think it should be acted out here. Instead of engaging those around me I sit and wish that they would engage me. We talked about Barnabas today during church, and I realized that I really do enjoy encouraging people and discipling--I miss it, I long for it and I want to do it. And yet at this moment I find myself unable to be vulnerable with anyone, including my husband. What is going on? I'm made for community--I long for community--and yet I just want to curl up into a little ball most of the time, refusing to engage others or to be engaged by others. Yes, my friends, I am living a chicken flavored life.

On top of it all the thoughts that go through my head are not about the present, but rather about the future. I think about where Luke and I will be in a year or five and think about how we will engage the people around us THEN...not now. It's like having five bucks in your pocket and you can buy chicken flavored cup'o'noodles or a piece of juicy fried chicken (neither of which are really healthy, but go with the idea)...instead of just buying the friend chicken you get the cup'o'noodles, and while you heat the water and wait the three minutes for the cup'o'noodles to be ready you wish that you would have gotten the fried chicken...

No, my friends, community does not come easily. It is hard and it takes a lot of effort. And it makes me tired just thinking about how we are going to engage the people around us, serve the poor of the city, all the while looking ahead to the future and balancing this crazy thing called following Jesus...learning what it means to take care of ourselves, trust God to do it for us and selling all we have to give to the poor. What do these things mean?

In the same vein, Luke and I have been reading The Irresistible Revolution by Shane Claiborne together and it is really, really challenging us. What does all of it mean? One of the more challenging quotes/ideas that we read recently is this: [Yes, Jesus said that the poor will always be with us, but this makes me ask] "Where are the poor? Are the poor among us?" The answer is usually a clear negatory. As we study the Scriptures we see how many texts we have misread, contextualized, and exegeted to hear what we want to. Like this one about the poor being among us, which Jesus says in the home of a leper and after a poor woman anoints his feet with perfume. The poor were all around him... (emphasis added and first part paraphrased).
Again, I ask, what does this mean for us today? It's so hard, so challenging...this man named Jesus and the things He asks us to do...

But even though it's hard, and we have many tough conversations, and sometimes I just want to give up I know that the fried chicken life is so much better than the chicken flavored life...so can you pass the chicken please? Some how there's a community to build, and I can't think of a better way to do it than around dinner...

...I'll let you know how it goes...

Singing a morning.

I really like this part of the movie Babe:

(If I had words to make a day for you,

I'd sing you a morning, golden and true.
I would make this day last for all time,
And fill your nights with moon shine.)

There's something so spectacular about the thought of singing a morning golden and true.

Maybe it's because presently I have other thoughts...I just can't seem to put them into words tonight...Maybe I'll sing you a morning tomorrow...
__________________________________________________________________

p.s. my husband is walking around the apartment singing "You don't always die from tobacco, sometimes you just lose a lung. You don't always die from tobacco, sometimes they just snip out your tongue..." in a robotic voice. I asked him why. He said he can't help it if it's "a catchy song".

Autumn

I do not really know how to start this post (the third in 4 days...what is going on?). There are so many thoughts going through my head--thoughts of a beautiful day well spent, thoughts of cooking and baking and yummy foods, thoughts of justice and love and what they look like, and how they really are the same, thoughts of socialism and the early church, and thoughts of prophets of old and present day prophets (of false?). So many things that I have thought about this week, and so many places to start...so many blogs for the future, perhaps?

But let me start with Autumn. Beautiful autumn. I will begin by saying I hope my journey in this life does not permanently land me in the city. While I have enjoyed the bustles and free museums of the city, I thoroughly miss the outdoors and nature absent from it. Seeking to find an adventure in the woods seems to me, before it takes place, like an adventure too costly in energy. But today we took advantage of the cooling weather and found this adventure across the street from our humble home in Fort Totten Park. And it was well worth it. I forget how being in nature rejuvenates and refocuses me. It is nice to hear the sound of leaves beneath your feet and the wind in the trees above you. And the colors--the colors were absolutely breathtaking. I will attempt (and as always, probably fail) to post some pictures on this blog in an orderly fashion.

Fort Totten, as some of you may know (I, however, did not before today), was one of the forts protecting the city of Washington, DC during the Civil War. The park at Fort Totten, which is up a hill and across the street from our humble abode, is a memorial, of sorts, to this Fort, and still maintains some of the earth works that are left over from the war. The earth works, Luke tells me, are the parts of the earth that were built up to make the fort harder to attack. It was pretty amazing, and definitely could not be captured on film. However, we did hike around the earth works, and when you come visit you can too!

I have always loved the colors of autumn. How greens burst into bright gold, reds and oranges. How leaves slowly and beautifully drift to the ground. It is such a shame that it ends so quickly, and yet the crisp air holds promise of snow and cozy winter months (hopefully cozy...). I was delighted to find that autumn colors are just as vibrant in the city as they are in the wooded areas of North Carolina. Our God is truly an artistic God. But I will cease my narration for a moment and just show you the pictures for yourself. I will remind you that I am not nearly the photographer that I wish I was, and so these pictures do not capture the true beauty we saw...but I'm sure you could have guessed that.

In other news (but what other news besides the glory of nature is there?), Luke and I will be attending a church for two weeks in a row...we think we found a good one, folks, and we're pretty excited about the whole idea of finding a place where we can belong in the body of believers. We'll let you know how it turns out.

Speaking of the body of believers, I've been in Acts lately and I've found it really challenging. I don't know if I've mentioned it before, but since moving here I've discovered that I'm a pretty materialistic person. Even since Luke has gotten a job I've found myself struggling with the ideas of what it will be like to have money versus what it will look like to give that money away. I know that there is being a good steward of your money, but then there is also the point where you have to hold it with open hands and let God show you what being a good steward of your money is, and I'm just not sure what that's going to look like. The passage I've found most striking is this one:

All the believers were one in heart and mind. No one claimed that any of his possessions was his own, but they shared everything they had. With great power the apostles continued to testify to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus, and much grace was upon them all. There were no needy persons among them. For from time to time those who owned lands or houses sold them, brought the money from the sales and put it at the apostles' feet, and it was distributed to anyone as he had need.

Joseph, a Levite from Cyprus, whom the apostles called Barnabas (which means Son of Encouragement), sold a field he owned and brought the money and put it at the apostles' feet. (Acts 4:32-37)

Now, I have to admit, I've read this passage before more in judgment than in self-judgment. Wondering why other people aren't this giving and open. But when Luke and I were struggling with moving and paying the rent several people opened up their wallets, offering to help if we needed it, and I thought that was really amazing and it knocked me off my feet. And now we are wondering the same kind of things...how are we going to be good stewards of our money, and how are we going to hold our possessions with open hands, willing to help anyone who might come across our path. God calls each and every Christian to a higher way of living...a giving kind of living...and humble way of living...dare I even say a Socialist way of living...but maybe that is taking it too far...

I don't really know what to make of this passage in Acts. And I don't know what to make of other passages either (like ones in Isaiah where God says that our offerings mean nothing unless we also live a life of justice...what does that mean?)...and I'm sure there will be many more musings over what it means like to live a giving life of justice. I do know one thing...the world is headed in one direction and we, as Christians, are called to head the other way. But these are just some stirring thoughts on a beautiful day...

(Just a throw in picture so you can see my handsome husband...plus, I thought it was appropriate...)

Rainbows

Luke and I were just talking about songs about rainbows when Luke made the comment:

"Without Kermit the Frog there would be
no songs about rainbows..."

I begged to differ, which ultimately led me to YouTube, which led me to this, which, I suspect, will only be appreciated by my little sisters...

Political, if only for a moment.

Don't worry, there will be no talk of McCain or Obama here. But I will say, before I go on a rant about race and socioeconomic class, that it is pretty amazing that the United States has voted an African-American man as the next President, and it's historical, no matter who you are.

Unfortunately, it is not the end of our racial problems in the United States, and part of me is afraid that it is the way that this election will be viewed.

I have been to the Superior Court building for 3 separate trials/ceremonies since I have been at Polaris Client Services, and tomorrow will be my fourth. After these three I can pretty much tell you what I will see tomorrow:

I will be one of the only white people in the court room. The other white men and women I will see will be officers of the court, the judge will probably be white, as well as some of the lawyers and the grand marshal. While I am 100% sure there are white men and women on drugs, purchasing sex and selling sex the only people who I will see prosecuted for these crimes tomorrow will be black (and maybe Latino).

Now I don't know the ins and outs of the courts system or the criminal justice system. I have heard people talk about the injustice and racism inherent in the system and that only a few get caught and those few are often times minorities. I know that these problems are big...huge, even, and they cannot be tackled completely by a handful of men and women charged with keeping a city safe, and I'm figuring that these problems are not blatent racism, but rather inherent in the system, but I have never seen the evidence of racism so apparent than when I am sitting in a court room in Washington, DC.

I am not saying that these people who have been caught for these crimes should not be prosecuted and punished for the crimes that they commit...I am not saying that at all...But there is a white Senator who is very close to winning a Senate race in Alaska who was just convicted of 7 felonies. And there is a New York governor who was caught in a prostitution ring who has served no jail time.

You can't tell me that everyone in this country has an equal opportunity.

Pumpkin Seeds

So the little pumpkin seeds turned out just wonderfully salty and good.


Oh, and Luke got a job today, too.

Nebuchadnezzar then approached the opening of the blazing furnace and shouted,
"Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego, servants of the Most High God, come out! Come here!"
So Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego came out of the fire,
and the satraps, prefects, governors and royal advisers crowded around them.
They saw that the fire had not harmed their bodies,
nor was a hair of their heads singed;
their robes were not scorched, and there was no smell of fire on them.
(Daniel 3:26-27)
...One day I will learn...

A Pumpkin.

Luke and I just carved our first pumpkin as a family. His name is Emmet. He looks like an Emmet. He was originally supposed to have four teeth, but after an unfortunate mishap he now sits in our living room with his three-toothed grin.

Carving him was quite the ordeal, and too see pictures you are welcome to click here. It was some much needed stress
relief and laughter...sawing something open and getting all the squishy stuff out in order to create something... maybe we should do this more often.

We decided to begin the tradition this year of drying out the pumpkin seeds and baking them for a tasty treat. So I was taking some pictures and I realized something--lately I have felt like this disgusting mess that you can see below. I'm this mixture of goop and seeds, neither of which are incredibly appealing as they are, but really just as we call them--goop. It's not really good for anything...it kind of smells weird, and there isn't much use for it. In fact, unless you want to spend some time on it, there won't be any use for it at all. And recently I've felt like God doesn't want much to do with me. Luke and I just sent off our rent check today...and we don't have enough money left to pay our rent in December. I'm frustrated and confused and jumbled. I feel disgusting and vulnerable...we trusted God to help us through this...why are we still without an income when just a month and a half ago we felt so clearly called. I don't really get it. And I feel left alone, just as if we had left this goop sitting in the strainer or on the table to be thrown out with the other newspapers and pieces of unusable remains that are left after making a jack'o'lantern. But just like Luke and I are not content to let the goop be thrown out with the trash, neither is God willing to let Luke and I be (hopefully). But it's not going to be pleasant. Before we can be used the goop and slime has to be sifted and cleaned out. And then we might have to go through an intense drying-out (like of our savings maybe?) and probably some intense heat before we can come out all roasted and golden brown and ready for use. And maybe that's what's happening now. Right now our little pumpkin seeds are sitting on the oven drying out and Luke and I are in another room. Maybe, if pumpkin seeds could talk or think, they might be thinking we had abandoned them. We had grabbed them out of their cozy little inhabitance of a pumpkin and plopped them into a cold environment. Then squeezed them and roughed them up and separated them from the slime they've always known (not a very comfortable process, I can imagine...) just to let them sit on the stove on a cookie sheet. But they are not forgotten and they will be used...they just need to wait until they are ready.

Trusting in God is hard. And I'm, honestly, not very good at it. I am a selfish and spoiled child and when it hurts and I feel alone I question a lot. But I've always been able to come back and see the ways He's pulled through...and I'm trying to trust that He'll do it again.

I'll let you know how those lonely little pumpkin seeds turn out...

Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego replied to the king, "O Nebuchadnezzar, we do not need to defend ourselves before you in this matter. If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God we serve is able to save us from it, and he will rescue us from your hand, O king.
But even if he does not, we want you to know, O king, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set up." (Daniel 3:16-18)
...Oh that I would have faith like this...

Isn't that important?

On the fifth day, thanks again to the sheep, another secret of the little prince's life was revealed to me. Abruptly, with no preamble, he asked me, as if it were the fruit of a problem long pondered in silence:
If a sheep eats brushes, does it eat flowers, too?
A sheep eats whatever it finds.
Even flowers that have thorns?
Yes. Even flowers the have thorns.
Then what good are thorns?
I didn't know. At that moment I was very busy trying to unscrew a bolt that was jammed in my engine. I was quite worried, for my plane crash was beginning to seem extremely serious, and the lack of drinking water made me fear the worst.
What good are thorns?
The little prince never let go of a question once he had asked it. I was annoyed by my jammed bolt, and I answered without thinking.
Thorns are no good for anything--they're just the flowers' way of being mean!
Oh!
But after a silence, he lashed out at me, with a sort of bitterness.
I don't believe you! Flowers are weak. They're naive. They reassure themselves whatever way they can. They believe their thorns make them frightening...
I made no answer. At that moment I was thinking, If this bolt stays jammed, I'll knock it off with the hammer. Again the little prince disturbed my reflections.
Then you think flowers...
No, not at all. I don't think anything! I just said whatever came into my head. I'm busy here with something serious!
He stared at me, astounded...
...You talk just like the grown-ups!
This made me a little ashamed...
...The little prince was now quite pale with rage.
For millions of years flowers have been producing thorns. For millions of years sheep have been eating them all the same. And it's not serious, trying to understand why flowers go to such trouble to produce thorns that are good for nothing? It's not important, the war between the sheep and the flowers?...Suppose I happen to know a unique flower, one that exists nowhere in the world except on my planet, one that a little sheep can wipe out in a single bite one morning, just like that, without even realizing what he's doing--isn't that important?...
...He couldn't say another word. All of a sudden he burst out sobbing. Night had fallen. I dropped my tools. What did I care about my hammer, about my bolt, about thirst and death? There was, on one star, on one planet, on mine, the Earth, a little prince to be consoled...I told him,
The flower you love is not in danger...I'll draw a muzzle for your sheep...I'll draw you a fence for your flower...I...
I didn't know what to say...It's so mysterious, the land of tears...

-Antoine De Saint-Exupery
The Little Prince

Why be scared of a hat?

Once when I was six I saw a magnificent picture in a book about the jungle called True Stories. It showed a boa constrictor swallowing a wild beast...In those days I thought a lot about jungle adventures, and eventually managed to make my first drawing, using a colored pencil. My drawing Number One looked like this:

I showed the grown-ups my masterpiece, and I asked them if my drawing scared them. They answered, "Why be scared of a hat?"

My drawing was not a picture of a hat. It was a picture of a boa constrictor digesting an elephant. Then I drew the inside of the boa constrictor, so the grown-ups could understand. They always need explanations. My drawing Number Two looked like this:

The grown-ups advised me to pit away my drawings of boa constrictors, outside or inside, and apply myself...That is why at the age of six I abandoned my magnificent career as an artist...So then I had to choose another career, and I learned how to pilot airplanes... ...I lived all alone, without anyone I could really talk to, until I had to make a crash landing in the Sahara Desert...The first night...I went to sleep on the sand a thousand miles from any inhabited country. I was more isolated than a man shipwrecked on a raft in the middle of the ocean. So you can imagine my surprise when I was awakened at daybreak by a funny little voice saying, "Please...draw me a sheep..."
"What?"
"Draw me a sheep..."
...Since I had never drawn a sheep, I made him one of the only two drawings I new how to make--the one of the boa constrictor from the outside. And I was astounded to hear the little fellow answer:
"No! No! I don't want an elephant inside a boa constrictor. A boa constrictor is very dangerous, and an elephant would get in the way. Where I live everything is very small. I need a sheep. Draw me a sheep..."

--Antoine De Saint-Exupery
The Little Prince