tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-58674935131691981782024-03-12T22:54:18.955-05:00 grace upon grace"For from God's fullness we have all received, and grace upon grace..."Juliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15900484636166705372noreply@blogger.comBlogger60125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5867493513169198178.post-38392787763685935792014-04-24T08:44:00.000-05:002014-04-24T08:44:13.120-05:00Thursday And then there's this amazing thing where each day I awake and look into the eyes of someone who knows my soul, and who greets me with a joyful kiss. Every time he walks out the door he calls "I love you" and every night in the stillness he reminds me again. I am cared for. And I sleep in peace.Juliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15027993626159606342noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5867493513169198178.post-84069041187424064642014-02-13T10:59:00.002-06:002014-02-13T10:59:40.566-06:00~balance~i am easily overwhelmed. i tend, in innocent excitement, to sign up for too much, then panic when i think i can't do it all. or at least, can't do it all perfectly -- my first choice, or even very well -- my second choice. i am frequently tempted to quit everything; and yet i hate the thought of quitting anything. thus: lots of inner turmoil.<br />
one strategy that i'm attempting to use in order to have more balance in my life (and in my mind), is to just give full attention to what i am doing at the moment and do the best i can... even if what i'm doing is not what i wish i could be doing, even if my best doesn't match my ideals. i am specifically trying to focus more on <i>enjoying</i>, and less on <i>evaluating</i> whatever i am doing. that's all.Juliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15027993626159606342noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5867493513169198178.post-18124004136860916642013-10-08T20:58:00.000-05:002013-10-08T20:58:20.057-05:00"Money, You, and a Simpler Life"An excerpt from a book I borrowed from the Quaker library:<br />
<br />
"Money -- at least as we deal with it as individuals -- is not brain surgery. True, the issues get more complicated if you want to make more and more and more money -- clearly not a great idea if you're really trying to simplify your life. And for making more and more money, the woods are full of experts fairly roaring with advice! They... tell us how to be 'secure' by being wealthier. They pursue -- by methods that are often more complicated than they are telling us -- an illusory, money0based happiness that both recent scientific research and many centuries of common experience reveal has no basis in reality.<br />
"But with personal finances, let there be no mistake: The basics really are the basics. An older generation that lived through the Depression learned those basics: Know what your resources are; stick to your budget; be frugal; always look for bargains; save as much money as you can; borrow as little as you can; get out debt as fast as you can."<br />
<br />
(From "Nothing's Too Small to Make a Difference" by Wanda Urbanska and Frank Levering)<br />
<br />
Maybe tomorrow I'll post another excerpt, from the part about HOW to stick to those basics!Juliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15027993626159606342noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5867493513169198178.post-56324305971840050282013-09-30T13:03:00.000-05:002013-09-30T13:03:34.352-05:00annapolis: our new home<br />
<div style="color: #222222; font-family: arial; font-size: small;">
<span style="background-color: white;">our neighborhood consists of an illegal garbage dump, 5 deer - one with small antlers, and one fawn with no more spots, woods with a creek and a path that leads to a quaker meeting house, a prayer labryinth, and a praying mantis.</span></div>
<div style="color: #222222; font-family: arial; font-size: small;">
<br /></div>
<div style="color: #222222; font-family: arial; font-size: small;">
our household includes dozens of fruit flies, a part-time papillon puppy, and new ivy that is beginning to root. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="color: #222222; font-family: arial; font-size: small;">
our window overlooks a parking lot, and the sill is decorated with a happy candle that reminds us of a sad break-up of friends. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="color: #222222; font-family: arial; font-size: small;">
our bed is book-ended by the coolest little nightstands i've ever seen (they each have their own pull-out trays, perfect for a laptop or whatever else can't be crowded on the top), and in the bottom cubby of seth's nightstand the 4th harry potter book awaits the arrival of the 5th (which we are waiting to buy until seth completes and submits his paperwork for the ministerial fellowship committee!)</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="color: #222222; font-family: arial; font-size: small;">
our fridge has plenty of adele-art, chicago magnets, and a silly chinese take-out menu that says things like "gift certificafe" and "food panty available". oh, and much more important than that, our fridge is stocked with enough, but not too many, groceries. although, the cheese drawer seems to empty so much quicker than it ought...</div>
Juliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15027993626159606342noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5867493513169198178.post-47791204702131135332013-09-26T18:51:00.000-05:002013-09-26T18:51:33.349-05:00my family...is so darn photogenic:<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ukQ0-O1Ef00/UkTF-0N4aMI/AAAAAAAACV8/s4h9n-n3BCA/s1600/1276461_10152497609680353_1056099728_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ukQ0-O1Ef00/UkTF-0N4aMI/AAAAAAAACV8/s4h9n-n3BCA/s320/1276461_10152497609680353_1056099728_o.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
*drew, getting ready for the mud run with team Y (these are much prettier than the "after" pics)*</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GWYg43SvCLA/UkTGDEEAWmI/AAAAAAAACWE/WjjVm7I_SVQ/s1600/1271918_10152497609080353_367861933_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GWYg43SvCLA/UkTGDEEAWmI/AAAAAAAACWE/WjjVm7I_SVQ/s320/1271918_10152497609080353_367861933_o.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
*margot (3) and adele (7) holding logan and jackson (4 mos.)*</div>
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UOIegFKtcA8/UkTGVzHErEI/AAAAAAAACWM/UkN8ax2ro_E/s1600/nieces+and+nephews.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-UOIegFKtcA8/UkTGVzHErEI/AAAAAAAACWM/UkN8ax2ro_E/s320/nieces+and+nephews.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
...and i miss them all (including those not pictured)!<br />
<br />
~<br />
<br />
seth is my "new" family, and as much as i love him, there's no way he can fill all those shoes. and the uuca is quickly becoming my new church family, which is a little weird since we are only going to be here for a year. but i'm thankful for them all the same.Juliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15027993626159606342noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5867493513169198178.post-3943932313626058162013-09-22T08:59:00.001-05:002013-09-22T08:59:36.741-05:00PS:I also went for a walk in the rain last night, and decided I want to do that more often. I spent some time at the prayer labyrinth here at the church. And I saw several toads hopping around in the rain, right after it got dark.Juliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15027993626159606342noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5867493513169198178.post-57725530518306042452013-09-22T08:57:00.000-05:002013-09-22T08:57:46.846-05:00PoemsThis poem was very timely for Seth and me last night, after a long day of struggling with the difficulty of being newly-married, and in a new place, and he being an introvert starting a new job and me being without a job as of yet....<br />
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<br />
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<span class="size14" style="background-color: white; color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 18px;"><b><i>Poem (the spirit likes to dress up)</i></b></span></div>
<div>
<span class="size14" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 18px;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></div>
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<br />
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<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">The spirit</span></div>
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<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"> likes to dress up like this:</span></div>
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<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"> ten fingers, </span></div>
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<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"> ten toes,</span></div>
<div align="center" style="background-color: white;">
<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><i></i><br /></span></div>
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<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">shoulders, and all the rest</span></div>
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<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"> at night</span></div>
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<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"> in the black branches,</span></div>
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<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"> in the morning</span></div>
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<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span></div>
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<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">in the blue branches</span></div>
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<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"> of the world.</span></div>
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<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"> It could float, of course,</span></div>
<div align="left" style="background-color: white;">
<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"> but would rather</span></div>
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<span class="" style="color: #52b271; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span></div>
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<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">plumb rough matter.</span></div>
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<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"> Airy and shapeless thing,</span></div>
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<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"> it needs </span></div>
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<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"> the metaphor of the body,</span></div>
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<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: 16px; line-height: 18px; min-height: 18px;"><br /></span></div>
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<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">lime and appetite,</span></div>
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<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"> the oceanic fluids;</span></div>
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<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"> it needs the body's world,</span></div>
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<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"> instinct</span></div>
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<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><i></i><br /></span></div>
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<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">and imagination</span></div>
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<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"> and the dark hug of time,</span></div>
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<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"> sweetness</span></div>
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<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"> and tangibility,</span></div>
<div align="center" style="background-color: white;">
<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="left" style="background-color: white;">
<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">to be understood,</span></div>
<div align="left" style="background-color: white;">
<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"> to be more than pure light</span></div>
<div align="left" style="background-color: white;">
<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"> that burns</span></div>
<div align="left" style="background-color: white;">
<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"> where no one is --</span></div>
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<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="left" style="background-color: white;">
<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">so it enters us --</span></div>
<div align="left" style="background-color: white;">
<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"> in the morning</span></div>
<div align="left" style="background-color: white;">
<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"> shines from brute comfort</span></div>
<div align="left" style="background-color: white;">
<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"> like a stitch of lightning;</span></div>
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<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="left" style="background-color: white;">
<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">and at night</span></div>
<div align="left" style="background-color: white;">
<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"> lights up the deep and wondrous</span></div>
<div align="left" style="background-color: white;">
<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"> drownings of the body</span></div>
<div align="left" style="background-color: white;">
<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"> like a star.</span></div>
<div align="left" style="background-color: white;">
<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span></div>
<br />
And this one, for first thing this morning:<br />
<br />
<div id="element16" style="height: 1015px; width: 433px;">
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<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 18px;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></div>
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<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 18px;"><b><i>Morning Poem</i></b></span></div>
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<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: 18px; line-height: 20px; min-height: 20px;"><i></i><br /></span></div>
<div align="left">
<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: 18px; line-height: 20px; min-height: 20px;"><i></i><br /></span></div>
<div align="left">
<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">Every morning</span></div>
<div align="left">
<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">the world</span></div>
<div align="left">
<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">is created. </span></div>
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<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">Under the orange </span></div>
<div align="center">
<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span></div>
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<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">sticks of the sun</span></div>
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<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">the heaped</span></div>
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<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">ashes of the night</span></div>
<div align="left">
<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">turn into leaves again </span></div>
<div align="left">
<span class="" style="color: #52b271; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="left">
<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">and fasten themselves to the high branches ---</span></div>
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<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">and the ponds appear</span></div>
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<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">like black cloth</span></div>
<div align="left">
<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">on which are painted islands </span></div>
<div align="left">
<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><i></i><br /></span></div>
<div align="left">
<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">of summer lilies. </span></div>
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<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">If it is your nature</span></div>
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<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">to be happy</span></div>
<div align="left">
<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">you will swim away along the soft trails </span></div>
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<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="left">
<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">for hours, your imagination</span></div>
<div align="left">
<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">alighting everywhere. </span></div>
<div align="left">
<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">And if your spirit</span></div>
<div align="left">
<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">carries within it </span></div>
<div align="left">
<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: 18px; line-height: 20px; min-height: 20px;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="left">
<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">the thorn</span></div>
<div align="left">
<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">that is heavier than lead ---</span></div>
<div align="left">
<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">if it's all you can do</span></div>
<div align="left">
<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">to keep on trudging --- </span></div>
<div align="center">
<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="left">
<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">there is still</span></div>
<div align="left">
<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">somewhere deep within you</span></div>
<div align="left">
<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">a beast shouting that the earth</span></div>
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<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">is exactly what it wanted --- </span></div>
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<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><i></i><br /></span></div>
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<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">each pond with its blazing lilies</span></div>
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<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">is a prayer heard and answered</span></div>
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<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">lavishly, </span></div>
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<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">every morning, </span></div>
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<span class="" style="color: #52b271; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span></div>
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<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">whether or not</span></div>
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<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">you have ever dared to be happy, </span></div>
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<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">whether or not</span></div>
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<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">you have ever dared to pray. </span></div>
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<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><i></i><br /></span></div>
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<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><i></i><br /></span></div>
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<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><i>from Dream Work (1986) by Mary Oliver </i></span></div>
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<span class="" style="color: #dcb791; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><i>© Mary Oliver</i></span></div>
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<a href="" name="anchor_14797" style="color: #1155cc;"><img alt="" height="2" src="http://peacefulrivers.homestead.com/tp.gif" width="1" /></a></div>
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Thanks, Mary Oliver, for writing these. And whoever's behind <a href="http://peacefulrivers.homestead.com/MaryOliver.html" target="_blank">this</a> for sharing them.<br />
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<br />Juliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15027993626159606342noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5867493513169198178.post-31097489874504837442013-09-12T11:23:00.000-05:002013-09-12T11:23:05.845-05:00<br />
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Don't be fooled into thinking that the gift you bear is a burden. Though the blessing you have may at times feel like a curse, that doesn't mean it isn't meant to be given, to be shared.</div>
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Your gift doesn't look like what's popular? Like what's sensible, or proper morals, or a smart investment, or enticing to a world that judges by appearances and seeks to silence the dissenting voice, to suppress the truly creative act? </div>
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The dreamers who dared to speak, dared to live, may have fought hard battles, may have faced unjust deaths. But is that worse than living in the realm of the unreal, enduring the torture of insincerity, submitting to fear, perfecting conformity, perpetuating numbness, forgetting who we are? </div>
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And what is the way? What is the way to open the treasure chest of the true self, to nurture the soul of a blossoming child, to honor the wisdom of eternity, to uncover and see again -- or for the first time -- who it is behind the fa<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;">ç</span>ade of the enemy? The way is love. The way is acting in mercy, withholding judgement, relinquishing control... the way is bending low to serve, choosing forgiveness, practicing hospitality... the way is extending a hand of help, a gaze of wonder, a word of praise... and it is called love. </div>
Juliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15027993626159606342noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5867493513169198178.post-54662852823427949602013-04-04T15:07:00.000-05:002013-04-04T15:07:06.162-05:00Forgiveness as an act of worshipForgiveness can be seen in different ways, as having different functions. One function of forgiveness is to pardon the offender. Another is to provide release/healing for the injured party. But recently I've been caught by the idea that forgiveness is essentially an act of worship toward God. Like any act of worship, it helps us gain the right perspective, and put/keep ourselves in our rightful place... a position of humility, love, and dependence on grace.<br />
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Worship, I learned in a class once upon a time, is ascribing worth. We can ascribe worth to - worship - God, others, self. Oh yeah, or stuff (a.k.a. 'idols'). False worship happens when we ascribe worth inaccurately, or inappropriately.... or in more christianese language, 'idolatry' happens when we love and place our trust in something/one that cannot/should not be the object of such love and trust. Well geez, when I put it that way, idolatry is such a huge problem in life! It happens all the time. I won't speak for anyone else at this point, but I know for me, the most common misplaced worship is probably of myself. Which is why thinking about forgiveness as worship (of God) has challenged and helped me in this area.<br />
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One more quick note on worship as ascribing worth to God/self/others/objects/ideas/whatever else... these are all about relationships. How we worship tells us a lot about our relationships with God/self/others/etc... (yes, even stuff).<br />
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And it's always in the context of relationships that forgiveness needs to and does take place. So, worship and forgiveness are both relational.<br />
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Going back to the idea that <i>true</i> worship is about <i>accurately</i> ascribing worth... this implies that worship requires humility. And guess what. Forgiveness definitely requires humility. (If you've ever tried forgiving, you know this already.) In forgiveness, as in true worship, we are choosing to have an accurate view of self, others, & God. Because in the act of forgiveness (and I think this is why it sometimes takes me so long to get there), I have to admit that the person who wronged me is no worse than I am, that I am no better than s/he. We both are human. We both are flawed. We both have the capacity to harm others, and we both do, albeit perhaps in different ways. And we both are dependent creatures, needing the love & grace of God. And (good news!) we both are able and free to access and further God's grace and love.<br />
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From my journal reflections on forgiveness and what I've learned:<br />
~Forgiveness means letting go... of control, of excuses, of the need to be right, of rights, of self-justification, of anger, hatred, holding grudges, judging, and condemning.<br />
~Forgiveness means trusting God... for justice, for mercy, for convicting, for healing, for holding everything together when I'm completely powerless and out of control.<br />
~Forgiveness means acknowledging... God as God; myself as human; myself and other humans as limited and imperfect and sinful, but also as needy, conditioned to act certain ways, yet with potential to change and act differently.<br />
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A violation in relationship is also an opportunity - forgiveness allows one person to give grace and another to receive it. And Jesus's teachings (e.g. Mt. 18:21-35) make clear that in order to give grace you have to have received it, and in order to truly receive grace you have to give it.<br />
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Thoughts?<br />
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I'm guessing someone who reads this might have a question about evil, unforgivable people/acts/situations. Or maybe other more challenging aspects of forgiveness. If you do have ideas about this or any other aspect of forgiveness, please share.Juliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15027993626159606342noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5867493513169198178.post-30432944382671875112013-03-08T14:32:00.001-06:002013-03-08T14:32:55.129-06:00we justice-loving types can have a hard time letting things go. if there's a point to be proven, we're probably the first to sign up. if there's a wrong to be righted, we can't imagine not trying everything in our power to do so. personally, i have a hard time giving an apology without also giving a self-defense. (conversely, sometimes it's tempting to apologize when someone else has wronged me - just for the sake of reconciliation.) <br />
fighting for justice is well and good. but what about when we can't? or, is it possible there are times when we simply shouldn't? where is the line between putting into action the justice we know to be of God... and stepping aside and letting God enact God's own justice?<br />
the words recorded by the prophet are wise, pairing together the imperatives "do justice" and "love mercy." oh yeah, and the third one: "walk humbly with your God." i guess maybe that's the <i>how-to</i> part.Juliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15027993626159606342noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5867493513169198178.post-13354769799847169142013-03-05T17:18:00.000-06:002013-03-05T17:18:42.561-06:00What if I wasn't white?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Did you ever get on a bus and realize you're the only person on it who would be called "caucasian"? That happened to me this morning, which was kind of a surprise because it was the bus stop right by my house. Then I realized that it was a bit after the morning rush, so it made a little more sense why all the "normal, white" city people were absent, and instead there were mothers with babies, some elderly, and various other people, all of other ethnicities, who maybe don't work 9 to 5. That got me thinking about how I much prefer this kind of setting, as opposed to the business-suit-wearing, all-made-up with dyed hair, downtown-working type of people I sometimes sit among on public transportation. Times like that make me feel some kind of foreign (to me), Type A pressure, and induce in me disgust at the materialistic life I imagine them all to be pursuing. I'd sooo rather be here with people who don't operate on business hours and standards. Times like today's bus ride are highlights, to me, of living in the city. They make me jealous of my new sister, who spent last weekend with me and whom I followed around shopping in stores where she smiled and chattered in Arabic with the women who worked there (who in turn showered her with fashion advice and discounts). I'd barely have the guts to enter some of those stores alone. (I'm working on it, though, because I saw some really affordable clothes in one of them that I want to go back for!:)<br />
Race is a tricky topic. Some may argue that race is not even real, because it's not biologically founded. But even though it's socially constructed, we must not and cannot truly deny that it's real. It affects all of our lives whether we like it or not. However, I still struggle sometimes to talk about issues pertaining to race. Don't want to offend anyone! (Or contribute to problems that already exist.) Even rereading the paragraph above, I feel uneasy about my choices of wording. Reflection on that actually reminds me of another difficulty with the concept of race: In all practicality, when we talk about race/racism - we're really talking about class/classism. Certain people with certain shades of skin color are more often located in certain classes. (For clarification: I'm talking about "socio-economic" class, a.k.a. the classes of our society marked by varying degrees of wealth and poverty.*) But there don't seem to be clear lines connecting race/ethnicity to "racism" (the discrimination, oppression, etc, that people experience). So work toward "undoing racism" is also tricky, because in addition to people's personal experiences of racism based on their physical appearance, other deeply rooted problems must be addressed. For example, the generational-cyclical nature of poverty. Or the ridiculous gap between rich and poor as exemplified by the wages of average company workers versus their CEOs (brought to my attention again recently by <a href="http://www.upworthy.com/9-out-of-10-americans-are-completely-wrong-about-this-mind-blowing-fact-2?g=2&c=upw1" target="_blank">this short video</a>).<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">*If you don't believe in or don't understand the class system in our society, a good starting place is a book called "A Framework for Understanding Poverty," by an educator named Ruby Payne.</span><br />
And lastly (if you're still reading, bless you)... trying to figure this whole race thing out can be exhausting. I personally have not tried so hard that it's exhausted me, but I've witnessed some people who have. My fiancé is wrestling with the issue in educational settings (like CPE - training that hospital chaplains and other ministerial types go through), as well as within his religious denomination's well-intentioned but discombobulated attempts at racial equality. Sometimes at the end of the day I gotta feel sorry for the guy who has a heart of love for all kinds of people, but carries a huge burden of racism and oppression, in that un-envied position of "white, middle-class male." I've also witnessed students at my internship site face the issue of race from multiple angles - being black but not black enough, being white but too rich, growing up in poverty and being misunderstood, being born in the wrong region of the country and being stereotyped, being biracial or being someone that people just don't understand and therefore not belonging anywhere. The one thing I keep learning is that <b>racism hurts all of us</b>. And it is sad to me. Even as I sit here and wonder what good my own efforts and words can do, and worry about the probably hundred times in this post that I've said something so white or implied something so white or ignored or denied something important simply because I am white. Today, I don't like being white.<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JyLZp8KniPU/UTZ7cMUlo6I/AAAAAAAACTA/HWpgi9ZBocs/s1600/white-wallpaper-4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JyLZp8KniPU/UTZ7cMUlo6I/AAAAAAAACTA/HWpgi9ZBocs/s320/white-wallpaper-4.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<div style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-top: 0.4em;">
"White is the color of fresh milk and snow. It contains all the wavelengths of visible light without absorption, has maximum brightness, and does not have any hue. It is the opposite of black.</div>
<div style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-top: 0.4em;">
According to surveys in Europe and the United States, white is the color most often associated with innocence, perfection, the good, honesty, cleanliness, the beginning, the new, neutrality, lightness, and exactitude."</div>
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<span style="font-size: 11px; line-height: 10px;">(</span><span style="background-color: transparent;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/White</span></span><span style="font-size: 11px; line-height: 10px;">)</span></div>
Juliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15027993626159606342noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5867493513169198178.post-81154734149035182842013-02-20T10:40:00.000-06:002013-02-20T10:40:22.400-06:00Psalm 60<span class="chapter-2"><span class="text Ps-60-1">O God, You have rejected us. You have<sup> </sup>broken us;</span></span><br /><span class="text Ps-60-1">You have been angry; O, restore us.</span><br /><span class="text Ps-60-2" id="en-NASB-14810"><sup class="versenum">2 </sup>You have made the land quake, You have split it open;</span><br /><span class="text Ps-60-2">Heal its breaches, for it totters.</span><br /><span class="text Ps-60-3" id="en-NASB-14811"><sup class="versenum">3 </sup>You have <sup class="footnote" value="[<a href="#fen-NASB-14811f" title="See footnote f">f</a>]"></sup>made Your people experience hardship;</span><br /><span class="text Ps-60-3">You have given us wine to drink that makes us stagger.</span><br /><span class="text Ps-60-4" id="en-NASB-14812"><sup class="versenum">4 </sup>You have given a banner to those who fear You,</span><br /><span class="text Ps-60-4">That it may be displayed because of the truth. <span class="selah">Selah.</span></span><br /><span class="text Ps-60-5" id="en-NASB-14813"><sup class="versenum">5 </sup>That Your beloved may be delivered,</span><br /><span class="text Ps-60-5">Save with Your right hand, and answer us!</span><br />
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<span class="text Ps-60-5">God doesn't make sense. Well, life doesn't make sense, and as so many of us believe God is the source of all things, then for us it follows that God doesn't make sense.</span><br />
<span class="text Ps-60-5">God doesn't make sense but God is the only place to turn when life doesn't make sense. (After reading the rest of the Psalm, that's my basic conclusion.)</span><br />
<span class="text Ps-60-5">God is completely outside of our control and God is our only hope.</span><br />
<span class="text Ps-60-5">God doesn't promise anything other than faithfulness, and we don't get to decide what faithfulness is. </span><br />
<span class="text Ps-60-5"> </span><br />
<span class="text Ps-60-5"><br /></span>Juliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15027993626159606342noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5867493513169198178.post-29927764189481604232013-02-13T16:14:00.000-06:002013-02-13T16:14:12.361-06:00(with an "e", of course)<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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Anne, as in Anne of Green Gables, once said something to one
of her pals – Diana, Ruby, I don’t know, someone – about a tree being a poem.
What?!? Anne, usually you are pretty entertaining and endearing, but at this
point (to my twelve-year-old literary self) you sound just plain crazy. (By the
way, I have this theory about people named Anne: They are essential to my life.
My mother, for one. My roommate/bridesmaid/gluten-free-baking/ever-sarcastically-teasing
friend, for another. Then there was the nurse practitioner who got me Kleenex while
I sobbed in the exam room at Loyola’s Wellness Center, and then very kindly and
gently led me through the initial diagnosis and treatment of mono. Pretty much,
they’re all Saints. Except Anne of Green Gables – she, L.M. Montgomery made clear,
is pretty devilish.) But now, years later, recalling that snippet of the
amazing, imaginary world that I spent lots of time in with the red-haired
romantic Anne, I am kind of starting to “get” what she meant. Because now in my
own mind I’m saying that things are other things. That living is a prayer. That
forgiveness is an act of worship*. That hospitality is grace. That witnessing
and sharing someone’s suffering is holy. So, ok Anne, I guess a tree can be a
poem. You stick with sweet, dramatic, poetic things. I’ll dig into more
theological things. And we can continue to be friends. </div>
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*more to come on this, in a future post</div>
Juliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15027993626159606342noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5867493513169198178.post-47191917528675598402012-11-21T11:03:00.001-06:002012-11-21T11:03:06.971-06:00<strong>From Christian Peacemaker Teams' "Prayers for Peacemakers" - November 21, 2012</strong><br />
<i>God,
be a pillar of nonviolent defense against occupation, apartheid,
domination, theft, bombardment, phosphorus chemical weapons, missiles,
drones, assassination of journalists, propaganda, home demolition,
sexism, racism and despair. Let offenses yield to nationhood, dignity
and zealous compliance with the Geneva Conventions in Gaza and
everywhere.</i>Juliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15027993626159606342noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5867493513169198178.post-81532007705204973792012-11-10T10:27:00.000-06:002012-11-10T10:27:55.273-06:00HospitalityI think I've blogged about hospitality before, but the idea came up again recently in a specific way, which I've often thought about but maybe not often articulated: That is, the kind of hospitality that is not reciprocated; it perhaps is not even possible to be reciprocated. I believe this is the kind of hospitality Jesus teaches, saying things like "When you throw a party, don't invite your friends, but invite people who would never be able to throw a party and invite you in return." When I consider my own life in light of this, it challenges me. How much true hospitality do I show, without expecting some kind of return? Sometimes I might do things for others simply out of a generous spirit, but the fact remains that they are <i>able </i>in some way to reciprocate. But how often do I give to those who are not able to do anything at all for me?<br />
Another challenge: How often do I <i>receive </i>such hospitality?<br />
In one of my pastoral counseling classes, a classmate leading a centering exercise instructed us to think of a positive, peaceful memory - a memory of a time we sensed God's presence. Into my mind flashed a picture: A small lake in the middle of a forest, a wooden dock, and me. I remembered with pleasure a time when I dipped my hands into the water of that lake, and some little fish came up to nibble on my skin. More memories of that dear place came to mind, and I was filled with gratitude for the hospitality shown to my family and me when I was a child, by a distant relative who let us vacation at her lake house for many summers. A few days later I wrote her a thank-you note, and it was a note of pure gratitude. I knew there is nothing I can say or do that will ever repay the gift she had given. For a single mom with three kids and a tiny budget, the gift of a place to stay, rest and recreation, and the enjoyment of nature, all of which were formational in my life... that is true hospitality. And it is humbling to receive.<br />
If I draw a connection, and of course I do, between this kind of hospitality and the grace of God, then it is pretty easy to see that grace is effective in us not only when we receive what we don't deserve and can't repay, but also when we allow ourselves to be moved enough by the needs of others that we share our resources freely. As Henri Nouwen puts it:<br />
"Hospitality is the virtue which allows us to break through the narrowness of our fears and to open our houses to the stranger, with the intuition that salvation comes to us in the form of a tired traveler." <br />
To be on the receiving end of true hospitality causes me to face the reality of my own needs and confront my own limitations to what I can do for myself or earn from others. It leaves me with a choice to accept and receive, without self-justification or self-condemnation, or to be proud and falsely deny my need and the other's gift. <br />
Likewise, to be open to another's need and to give, with no guarantee of "getting back," requires letting go of a self-reliant security and control, and putting my trust in this very process of giving and receiving - this hospitality without reciprocity, this <i>grace</i>. <br />
<br />Juliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15027993626159606342noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5867493513169198178.post-75129354504251460052011-10-19T16:56:00.001-05:002011-10-21T08:45:20.554-05:00"It is time pounding at you, time. Knowing you are alive is watching on every side your generation's short time falling away as fast as rivers drop through air, and feeling it hit.<br />Who turned on the lights? You did, by waking up: you flipped the light switch, started up the wind machine, kicked on the flywheel that spins the years. Can you catch hold of a treetop, or will you fly off the diving planet as she rolls?<br />...Knowing you are alive is feeling the planet buck under you, rear, kick, and try to throw you; you hang on to the ring. It is riding the planet like a log downstream, whooping. Or, conversely, you step aside from the dreaming fast loud routine and feel time as a stillness about you, and hear the silent air asking in so thin a voice, Have you noticed yet that you will die? Do you remember, remember, remember? Then you feel your life as a weekend, a weekend you cannot extend, a weekend in the country.<br /><span style="FONT-STYLE: italic">O Augenblick verweile."<br /><br /></span>-From "An American Childhood" by Annie Dillard<span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"><br /></span>Juliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15027993626159606342noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5867493513169198178.post-81676311573144312362011-10-19T16:43:00.004-05:002011-10-19T16:55:59.048-05:00"What does it feel like to be alive?<br />Living, you stand under a waterfall. You leave the sleeping shore deliberately; you shed your dusty clothes, pick your barefoot way over the high, slippery rocks, hold your breath, choose your footing, and step into the waterfall. The hard water pelts your skull, bangs in bits on your shoulders and arms. The strong water dashes down beside you and you feel it along your calves and thighs rising roughly back up, up to the roiling surface, full of bubbles that slide up your skin or break on you at full speed. Can you breathe here? Here where the force is greatest and only the strength of your neck holds the river out of your face? Yes, you can breathe even here. You could learn to live like this. And you can, if you concentrate, even look out at the peaceful far bank where maples grow straight and their leaves lean down."<br /><br /><br />-From "An American Childhood" by Annie DillardJuliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15027993626159606342noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5867493513169198178.post-63200000322463514662011-08-31T18:04:00.004-05:002011-08-31T18:25:23.051-05:00I started (and never finished) writing this back in May. Our beloved sister Ora has since passed away.
<br />
<br />There's something humbling about sitting with an older Christian woman who is suffering from cancer (and the horrible effects of cancer treatment), in severe pain, looking back on her life of over 70 years, and looking ahead to an unknown number of days on this earth.
<br />Ora is one of those people that, when you spend time with her, you can tell has seen a lot, been through a lot and just keeps going. She maybe even has a lot she could complain about - but she doesn't. I don't know the details of her story very well - exactly how many children she raised, or grandchildren she guided and guarded, with her prayers and stubborn love - or exactly what types of jobs she worked before I met her, past retirement age, in a volunteer capacity. But I have come to appreciate her in whatever moments we share together, which have mostly been in the day to day tasks of running a food pantry, serving food and dignity to poor families of all kinds.
<br />When I think of Ora, I think of strength, and power, and unfailing persistence in doing right and good. I'm sure many, if not all, who know her would call her a saint, an excellent model of what a woman can be, of who a follower of Christ ought to be. My own saintly mother has expressed how she is inspired by Ora. We laugh about the time a few of us took a prayer retreat, and meek Ora was so overwhelmed with gratitude and honor that we "let" her join us - while <span style="font-style: italic;">we </span>all looked up to her and felt honored that she came! We had so much to learn from her. I still do.
<br />That simple, pure, servant-like spirit still pervades Ora's life. Saturday when I saw her in her home, though saddened to see her weakened body, I was filled with joy just to be in her presence. I felt refreshed by her softly spoken words of welcome, and the thoughtful look in her eyes as she talked about her current situation. She amazed me when she said things like, "Well, here I am. I'm alive another day. I woke up this morning and said <span style="font-style: italic;">Thank you</span>."
<br />After reminiscing about the past 10 years of the Center of Hope's ministry, we prayed together. I'll never forget the words she spoke through her tears: "Thank you, Jesus, for letting me be a part of it."
<br />Juliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15027993626159606342noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5867493513169198178.post-81818018158191378122011-08-15T09:47:00.002-05:002011-08-15T09:56:14.204-05:00Dreams and NightmaresI've had some pretty crazy, unusually vivid and emotionally-compelling dreams lately. I definitely think dreams are connected to "real" life. Dreams are real. Are part of life. Anyway... Pastor Ryan read this prayer by Walter Brueggemann in church a couple Sundays ago and it really resonated with me. It's called "Dreams and Nightmares", from <i>Prayers for a Privileged People</i>.
<br /> <p class="MsoNormal">
<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">Last night as I lay sleeping,
<br /> I had a dream so fair . . .
<br /> I dreamed of the Holy City, well ordered and just.
<br /> I dreamed of a garden of paradise, well-being all around and a good water supply.
<br /> I dreamed of disarmament and forgiveness, and caring embrace for all those in need.
<br /> I dreamed of a coming time when death is no more.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Last night as I lay sleeping . . .
<br /> I had a nightmare of sins unforgiven.
<br /> I had a nightmare of land mines still exploding and maimed children.
<br /> I had a nightmare of the poor left unloved,
<br /> of the homeless left unnoticed,
<br /> of the dead left ungrieved.
<br /> I had a nightmare of quarrels and rages and wars great and small.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal">When I awoke, I found you still to be God,
<br /> presiding over the day and night
<br /> with serene sovereignty,
<br /> for dark and light are both alike to you.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p class="MsoNormal">At the break of day we submit to you
<br /> our best dreams
<br /> and our worst nightmares,
<br /> asking that your healing mercy should override threats,
<br /> that your goodness will make our
<br /> nightmares less toxic
<br /> and our dreams more real.</p><p style="font-family: georgia;" class="MsoNormal"> </p><span style="font-family: georgia;"> </span>Thank you for visiting us with newness
<br /> that overrides what is old and deathly among us.
<br />Come among us this day; dream us toward
<br /> health and peace,
<br />we pray in the real name of Jesus
<br /> who exposes our fantasies. Juliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15027993626159606342noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5867493513169198178.post-16444007357893798682010-12-21T07:33:00.002-06:002010-12-21T07:38:12.606-06:00Celebrating St. Thomas, "The Doubter"Adapted from William Bright, in The Divine Hours: Prayers for Autumn and Wintertime (Phyllis Tickle)<div><br /></div><div><i>How often, Lord, your face has shone</i></div><div><i>On doubting souls whose wills were true!</i></div><div><i>You Christ of Peter and of John</i></div><div><i>You are the Christ of Thomas too.</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i>He loved you well, and firmly said,</i></div><div><i>"Come, let us go, and die with him";</i></div><div><i>Yet when your Easter news was spread,</i></div><div><i>Mid all its light his faith was dim.</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i>His brethren's word he would not take,</i></div><div><i>But craved to touch those hands of thine;</i></div><div><i>When you did your appearance make,</i></div><div><i>He saw, and hailed his Lord Divine.</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i>He saw you risen; at once he rose</i></div><div><i>To full belief's unclouded height,</i></div><div><i>And still through his confession flows</i></div><div><i>To Christian souls your life and light.</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i>O Savior, make your presence known</i></div><div><i>To all who doubt your Word and thee,</i></div><div><i>And teach us in that Word alone</i></div><div><i>To find the truth that sets us free.</i></div>Juliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15027993626159606342noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5867493513169198178.post-5093052731068137222010-12-17T11:11:00.003-06:002010-12-17T11:38:37.451-06:00Advent pick-me-upsI struggle with holidays. The last couple Christmases I've been sick and/or depressed. Often on Easter I don't feel very alive, or very joyful. Advent is usually so busy that it's hard to remember what it's all about. This year, as my faith sharing group, pastor, and others have reminded me to look for where God is coming into the world every day, in little and big ways, I've instead become overwhelmed by all the ways I'm <span style="font-style: italic;">not</span> seeing God. Sure, I can relate with the Old Testament prophecies about the <span style="font-style: italic;">need </span>for a Messiah... I believe I can empathize with the people of Israel who were/are longing desperately for such a Savior... but looking at the way things are around me - in the world, in the church, even in my own struggles with sin and questions about evil - it makes me want to ask, "<span style="font-style: italic;">Really</span>? The Messiah has come? Shouldn't things be different, then?"<br /><br />So I'm wrestling with all of this, and it's not easy, but I've noticed some bright spots which I'll share here:<br /><br />Putting up a Christmas tree in our apartment helped. (I'm infinitely grateful to my roommate for that!) Sitting by the tree and taking time to reflect helps.<br /><br />A group of friends who came over the other night and shared about how they are experiencing Advent helped. We all share a passion for serving poor and broken people... the kind of people Jesus came to save, yes? ...and it helps me to be with them, hear their stories, lean on them for support, watch them for glimpses of hope.<br /><br />This morning, Scripture helped. For some reason, I had Psalm 46:10 in my head so I decided to turn there - only, I went to Psalm 146 on accident, and read the entire Psalm before realizing it was different than the one I meant to read. But it's ok - both were helpful to me! Both are about the Lord being an abundant helper, reminding me that I can't live this life - this worshiper-and-disciple-of-Christ life - alone, in my own strength. Also, kind of a side note but what was also encouraging to me - about the verse "Be still and know that I am God...": in my version (which I've often noticed before) it says "Cease striving and know that I am God." Today I noticed that the word "striving" is in italics, which means that it has been added by translators. So, to take the verse literally, it says: "Cease and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth." What is interesting to me is that the previous two verses are about the works of the Lord in the earth - essentially, <span style="font-weight: bold;">putting an end to wars and violence</span>. And then it goes right into God speaking for himself: "Cease". Not that I don't appreciate how I've always before understood this verse - that we as people should stop and be still and be aware of Who God is - but it makes me excited to think that God is talking to all the evil things going on in the world, and saying: Stop. I'm God, and I will triumph. <br /><br />Another bright spot for me (anytime, not just in Advent) is spending time with children. Fortunately, this week, I've been able to do that every day. This afternoon I'll do it again, babysitting two three-year-old boys (yup, that should be fun!). It's easier to have hope when I'm with little ones.<br /><br />I'll end this with some words my Mom wrote recently, which I'd like to share with anyone who, like me, has difficulty celebrating in the midst of a suffering world.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">"I pray you all are enjoying Advent trusting God’s promises of righteousness, justice, and peace for our hurting world and our sometimes discouraged spirits, and living in the hope that God has something good in store for all in the future."</span><br /><br />Because it's true, it's true - we have a Messiah in whom we can hope. I just need to be reminded often.Juliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15027993626159606342noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5867493513169198178.post-47364725883004014772010-11-07T16:34:00.002-06:002010-11-07T16:52:24.352-06:00Well I haven't blogged much this semester, but that's how semesters go, right? - Too much going on to stop and write about it. :) (BTW, I'm very happy to be at a point in my life where I can again live by "semesters"... legitimately, that is... 'cause I always think in semesters, even when I'm not in school!)<br />But a few days ago I did stop and reflect... what can I take away from this semester so far? And I think one of the most important lessons I've learned has to do with time management/boundaries/saying yes and saying no/whatever you'd like to call it. It feels like I've forever been dealing with the tragic reality that <span style="font-weight: bold;">I can't do everything I want to do</span>. It's not possible. And, at least somewhat, I've finally <span style="font-style: italic;">accepted </span>that. And I'm rolling with it. And I'm enjoying life, within my own limitations.<br />For example, even something as simple as getting enough sleep - which used to be a source of great anguish for me - has become one of the joys of life. It happened like this: One day I said I was tired (oh wait, I've said that 9 out of 10 days since I was in 7th grade), and my counselor asked if I'd gotten enough sleep. I told her: "I got 8 hours!" And she suggested that <span style="font-style: italic;">maybe 8 hours isn't enough. Maybe you need nine.</span> And I balked, and I felt silly that as a grown person I might actually need to sleep an hour or more longer than the other productive people I know, and I finally realized that she's right. So, I started going to bed ridiculously early. (As I did, I thought of my college roommate... and my respect for her grew... it's not an easy thing to do!) And in a few days, I felt a m a z i n g ! And guess what - even though I had one less hour of the day to do things, during the hours I was awake I was obviously much more productive! And clearer thinking! And happier! Wow. Sleep is one of God's best gifts to us!<br />Speaking of God and rest... the other night in a restaurant with my family, I noticed a funny sign on the wall. It said "And on the seventh day... He ordered pizza." :) See, even God knows to take a break. Maybe not because he "needs" it, but because it's a good thing. So I challenge anyone who doubts the concept of Sabbath to think about all this. And hopefully you'll even try it, test it out, see if it's really worth it. I think it is.Juliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15027993626159606342noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5867493513169198178.post-59852626547822411472010-09-17T18:37:00.004-05:002010-09-17T21:23:07.937-05:00Paradox: Strength in Weakness<span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">One of my professors stated this week: "Paradox is holy ground." I guess that's true for psychology and theology (which are apparently my two areas of interest... right now, anyway:).</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;">In the same class we were talking about Internal Family Systems (IFS) theory, and part of our homework assignment this week is to try to identify our "parts". (To briefly explain: IFS has concepts of an internal system, similar to an external system such as a family or church, in each person. So a person has different "parts" and also a "self" which is, ideally, able to interact with the different "parts" - especially when they get in the way or cause problems. Parts can be things like fear, anger, obsessions/compulsions, coping/controlling mechanisms, etc.)</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;">So I did what any conscientious, first-year, overly-stressed, exhausted grad student would do: On my lunch break, I found a couch in a secluded area, lay down to rest, and wrestled with my different "parts." (We were especially encouraged to pay attention to "bodily sense" when locating parts... so it was fortunate that I had plenty of aches and pains to identify, and question what "parts" of me they were representing.)</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;">Heeding the advice of my wise classmate Andy, I also invited Jesus to interact with me and my parts. (I don't know about anyone reading this, but as I'm writing this, and even at the time when I was doing it, this is about the time when I start feeling kind of silly. I'm talking to my parts? Jesus is in the room talking with us, too? Um, ok...)</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;">I'm really glad I did this.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;">First of all, it was a very relaxing time and made the rest of my day a thousand times better. I didn't get too terribly far with the homework aspect, but I did identify some parts of myself that were hurting or stressed, and focusing on those helped me deal with some underlying causes.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;">Also, I started contemplating this ongoing struggle I have with being over-burdened out of good intentions. (I.e., I am so eager to love and serve God and other people, that I feel the responsibility of helping everyone and wish I could fix everything in the world. And that gets pretty discouraging.)</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;">I thought of two scripture verses that I would consider quite significant:</span><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;">The verse when Jesus says "Anyone who would come after me must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me." And the verse when he says, "Come to me all you who are weary... and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart... for my yoke is easy and my burden is light."</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;">These verses create a paradox: To truly follow Christ means to be self-sacrificing and to endure some pretty difficult stuff (I don't think he meant the word "cross" in merely a symbolic way)... yet, Christ promises that sharing His burden will be easy (because, of course, </span></span><span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" >he </span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">is the other one in the yoke).</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;">So I wondered to myself, in the quiet of the room and in the midst of all my parts and in the awareness of Christ's presence with me in the moment, how can I live in this paradox? How can I be willing to take whatever comes in the way of following Christ, and yet follow him easily and be at rest in his presence? Because that is my problem - I get caught up in the burden and in denying myself and forget to rest (or find it difficult or seemingly impossible to rest).</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;">Then I noticed which words in the verses I was focusing on. I was focusing on the </span></span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" >cross </span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">- </span></span><span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" >yes, I know, it will be difficult! it will require sacrifice! I am willing, even though I probably won't like it!</span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"> - and I was focusing on the </span></span><span style="font-weight: bold; font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" >burden </span><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">- </span></span><span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" >is it really light? what kind of yoke is attaching me to Christ and to his burden? </span><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;">I decided to try focusing on different phrases: "Follow me" and "come to me" and "learn from me." And that is when I thought, "My professor is right. This is holy ground."</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;">Somehow, when we are following Christ for the sake of Christ, when we come to him just to be with him, and when we're willing to learn from him because of who he is... we end up denying ourselves and carrying crosses and yet finding the burden easy and finding rest for our souls.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family: georgia;">A very personal example of this is the past week of my life. I have felt more weakness and weariness in this time than ever before in my life - and I have been more joyful and more determined to keep following Christ. I have found this particular kind of strength only in recognition of my deep need, and in relying and depending completely on him to literally get me through each moment of each day.</span><br /><br /></span><span style="font-style: italic; font-family: georgia;font-size:100%;" ><br />Therefore I am well content with weaknesses, with insults, with distresses, with persecutions, with difficulties, for Christ's sake; for when I am weak, then I am strong. (II Corinthians 12:10)</span>Juliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15027993626159606342noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5867493513169198178.post-42154642407221167662010-08-25T19:00:00.004-05:002010-08-25T22:55:47.682-05:00Notes on AlaskaThe first time my dad went to Alaska, he kept a journal. I didn't do so well, but I did take a few notes; and more importantly, I took in a lot of sights, sounds and smells that create some pleasant memories. I'll share some highlights with you here.<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qcpABZTnn5s/THXHy_0sa6I/AAAAAAAACQY/oHDI24YiqDo/s1600/IMG_4508.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_qcpABZTnn5s/THXHy_0sa6I/AAAAAAAACQY/oHDI24YiqDo/s320/IMG_4508.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509529398097505186" /></a><br /><br /><br /><strong>Facts:</strong><br />For those who care and may not already know... Alaska is bigger than the next three largest states, or the 22 smallest states. Yeah, it's big.<br />Denali National Park and Preserve alone (the third largest national park, after two other parks that are also in Alaska) is larger than the state of Vermont. I couldn't begin to fathom its six million acres, but I sure did enjoy every bit that I experienced firsthand.<br /> <br /><strong>Feelings:</strong><br />I learned a lot while visiting. More than I wanted to know about coal, less than I would like to know about the geology of the place, and plenty of historical tidbits. However, I won't share all of them here, because although it was all very interesting, what was marvelous about Alaska was just <em>seeing</em> and <em>being</em> there. I don't get much happier than I am when I'm on top of a mountain, seeing for miles around; or walking through a forest, breathing in the sweet smells of wildflowers and spruce trees. And honestly, I don't think I've met more quirky people than I did in my short ten days in Alaska. (Whether they're quirky 'cause they're in Alaska, or the reverse, I'm not sure...)<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qcpABZTnn5s/THXHx5hZylI/AAAAAAAACQQ/P-LgSnNuNDQ/s1600/IMG_4444.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qcpABZTnn5s/THXHx5hZylI/AAAAAAAACQQ/P-LgSnNuNDQ/s320/IMG_4444.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509529379226110546" /></a><br /><br /><strong> <br />Fun:</strong><br />So on my "dream vacation" (which, by the way, cost a LOT less than it typically would, thanks to my daddy who works there, whose wife has connections, and whose success in the local poker tournaments provided some prime gift certificates to area attractions), I got to do a lot of things including: A day cruise, whitewater rafting, a Jeep safari, an ATV safari, two dinner theatres (which were better than I expected - food-wise and musically:), ordering "whatever we wanted, as much as wanted" (literally) for free at the most expensive restaurant in the gulch (dad's refrigeration skills paid off!), and relaxing in a hot tub at the end of every [17 hours of] day[light].<br /><br />But the best parts of course were things that are free anyway: Hiking, being surprised by wildlife, picking and eating wild berries, attending a presentation on "Subsistence and Conservation," watching a family fly kites at a city park in Anchorage, touching the Exit Glacier (I said free, not necessarily legal...), viewing The Mountain (Denali/The High One/Mt.McKinley), and spending time with family and new friends.<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qcpABZTnn5s/THXH0h80mLI/AAAAAAAACQo/SwtD3lYgVYI/s1600/IMG_4654.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qcpABZTnn5s/THXH0h80mLI/AAAAAAAACQo/SwtD3lYgVYI/s320/IMG_4654.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509529424438270130" /></a><br /><br /><strong>Animals I saw for the first time with my own eyes in their natural habitat:</strong><br />Sea otters, sea lions, harbor seals, puffins, moose, caribou, porcupine, dall sheep, beavers, marmots, ptarmigans... finally (after hoping and hoping) some wolves and... I kept saying "I want to see a bear, but from a distance, when I am safe in a car/bus" - well by the end of the trip, I did - seven or eight of them - but, especially after hearing a couple of our guides talk about their up-close grizzly encounters, I began to wish I could see them a little bit closer. But I guess that'll have to wait until...<br /><br /><strong> <br />Next Time:</strong><br />I knew before going, as with most trips, that I'd end up wanting to go back in the future. I didn't know ahead of time that I would feel like staying and never even bothering to come home. It's the bug... you can see it in the faces of two out of every three males in the state (and those are usually the, ah, <em>more</em> unshaven ones)... and I started to catch it! Oh, if it weren't for grad school starting in a couple short weeks, I would've been glad to take a job there for the rest of the summer, as there seem to be plenty available this late in the season.<br />So anyway, about halfway into my first day, I started a list of things to do "next time" - if there is a next time. Things like hiking to the Harding Icefield, taking a rail trip, going to the hot springs, hiking ALL the way up Mt. Healy and on the WHOLE Triple Lakes trail - and numerous other longer hikes that are available, actually camping in the park, and climbing Mt. McKinley. Just kidding, I don't ever want to do that. Too risky.<br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qcpABZTnn5s/THXH1egNi0I/AAAAAAAACQw/bTWxFJ9GCtA/s1600/IMG_4640.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_qcpABZTnn5s/THXH1egNi0I/AAAAAAAACQw/bTWxFJ9GCtA/s320/IMG_4640.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509529440692833090" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Speaking of risky, Alaska, and Denali in particular, is not without some very disturbing and sobering events.<br /> <br /> <br /><strong>Sad:</strong><br />Only recently have loaded firearms been allowed in the park and preserve, and it is still illegal to discharge them. (Yeah, I questioned that when I first heard it, too. Why is it legal to carry a gun yet illegal to shoot? Oh, yeah... a "right" to bear arms. Silly Americans.) Well, a couple months ago a hiker and his girlfriend encountered a grizzly bear in the park. (By the way, the NPS and everyone else who hosts visitors to Denali is very good at educating on the proper ways to respond to bears, moose, etc. No one has an excuse to be ignorant. Although I wouldn't blame anyone for freaking out and not knowing what to do in an actual event.) Supposedly the girl was threatened by the bear, and the guy instinctively shot at, and killed, it.<br /><br />While I was there, a young man and young woman tried to cross the Teklanika River near the end of Stampede Road (made famous by the book and movie, "Into the Wild"). They had a poorly-rigged rope system to help them, and the current was too strong, and the woman ended up drowning. My dad's wife, Lori, told us the news after she heard it from some hikers who had just spoken to the young couple the day before, and were pretty shaken up about it. Lori herself was frustrated (and she's not alone in her frustration) over how many people, idealizing the story in the book and movie, come to Denali in search of "the bus," and are unprepared and unwise in how they approach visiting the area.<br /><br />During my week long stay in Denali, I became increasingly convinced that such a beautiful wilderness is just that - we should be careful to respect and preserve its natural beauty, and we should not think we are greater than the natural forces that can be so wild and unpredictable.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qcpABZTnn5s/THXHzmZO5NI/AAAAAAAACQg/a5-WMV7hyyo/s1600/IMG_4541.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_qcpABZTnn5s/THXHzmZO5NI/AAAAAAAACQg/a5-WMV7hyyo/s320/IMG_4541.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5509529408451306706" /></a>Juliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15027993626159606342noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5867493513169198178.post-13268676719013746472010-07-02T11:45:00.002-05:002010-07-02T12:20:32.493-05:00HandprintsAt the Center of Hope, we have quite a variety of volunteers. I love working with all of them.... in fact, I think that just might be my favorite part of my job. <br />There is a girl named Alyssa, whose grandmother lives in one of the apartments above the Center. Whenever Alyssa has early dismissal or a day off school she comes to help us downstairs. <br />This summer, whenever she's not at day camps, she comes to help out. She helps with EVERYTHING: front desk, bagging groceries, stocking shelves, calling numbers. <br />OK, so her attention span isn't as long as a regular volunteer shift (2 1/2 hours), so we occasionally find her wandering around, taking a snack break, or reading a book... a couple times I got frustrated because she left her post (number calling or signing people in on the computer - which are both very important) without notice. I explained to her that she needs to let us know so we can find a replacement, before she runs off to do a different job. But all in all, she's a sweetheart, very bright, and a willing helper/learner. I think she's going into 5th grade this fall.<br />The last couple weeks we've been doing some painting around the Center - to freshen things up a bit. Alyssa helped us finish some trim work, doorframes and doors. Since we were planning to paint the floors soon, I asked the director, on a whim, if we could put handprints on the floor, just for fun. Because Renita is the BEST boss ever, of course she said yes. So Alyssa and I coated our right-hand palms and fingers with white paint and pressed them down, side by side, on the brown floor, right in the middle of the room. We were pretty tickled, anticipating the reactions come Monday morning when the first guests would enter. <br />Well I had pretty much forgotten about the handprints by the time I came into work the next week. On Tuesday or Wednesday, I noticed the handprints were completely gone, and another volunteer mentioned that they were gone by 10:00 Monday morning. That's how much foot traffic we have in our waiting room!<br />This morning as I helped put a fresh coat of brown paint on the floors, I remembered our white handprints, and wondered if anyone even noticed them before they were trampled and disappeared. Then I started thinking about little pieces of paint stuck on the bottom of people's shoes, and being walked around all over Kankakee County. And that's kind of the nature of what we do here, by giving food and other temporary forms of physical help to hundreds of people each day: It may not last long, but it's affecting many lives, a little bit at a time.<br />I smiled to myself, knowing that a middle schooler and I are making our mark on this community. Even if it goes unnoticed, under people's feet... it's spreading all over.Juliahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15027993626159606342noreply@blogger.com2