The latest meme

Happy apparently thinks I haven't been blogging enough. She's probably right. Or she just thinks I'm an easy mark. In which case, she's probably right. Anyway. Three things about . . . well, lots.

3 Joys:

• coffee (and chocolate, and things like tiramisu and Starbucks truffles, which combine them)
• watching moving water . . . a river, the ocean, a waterfall, a good fountain even
• praying in the empty sanctuary, Sunday morning before worship. (Preferably with a cup of coffee)

3 Fears:

• spiders
• failing my children
• doing something really stupid with money

3 Goals:

• To hike the Bryce Canyon trail
• To finish my book (or honestly, get much past the 2nd chapter)
• to visit Rome again

3 Current Obsessions:

• figuring which of the long list of house projects we can / should afford to have done before the snow flies
• building in a habit of exercise
• the presidential election

3 Random/Surprising Facts: (um, about me? it doesn't say . . . check out Wikipedia--it's crammed with random and surprising facts . . . did you know that vexillology is the study of flags?)

• um . . . I can get lost for hours in Wikipedia
• I like silver better than gold
• I detest laundry

3 Things I hope for:

I'm adding this one in separate from goals. My goals are the things that I'm striving for, the things, that, whether or not I accomplish them have a lot to do with my own efforts. These things, that I hope for, are things that I want to see God do, in and around my life--and if I try to convince myself that they're up to my efforts, I'll probably just get in the way of God accomplishing them.

• for our church to grow into a community addicted to worship. One of the sweetest things I've ever experienced was to be part of a group that just swam in it. I want more of that
• for my daughters to grow up knowing in their innermost spirits who they are in Christ and to live towards being more that every day
• for the works of my hands to reflect the beauty and truth of the Creator who made us, and to bring glory to his son, Jesus Christ, by the power of the Holy Spirit

There you go, Hap. I don't tag. Whoever wants it . . . happy meme-ing!

I find this very interesting

I've generally stayed away writing about politics. For one thing, I figure that Rob has already more than burned through our household quota for political blogging. Also, being married to a political junkie, any passing want I have for a political conversation, I can have in person--I generally don't need to start a comment thread. :) For politics, I can talk to my husband or my father. And for all those other sanity-saving conversations of young motherhood--potty-training, recipe swaps, how-do-you-like-the-schools, and what are you reading for yourself these days anyway (all of which really fall under the category of "reassure me that I'm not the only one dealing with these things), for all of those conversations, I have the usual round of contacts of playdates, other church moms, old friends, etc.

And now the two are starting to overlap. Sarah Palin's speech last night was the play date conversation of this morning. ("I like her!" one friend declared while herding her kids in the door and getting shoes off). A friend of mine who is usually politically clueless by choice ("Tell me who's running in October") made a point of looking up and listening to Palin's speech online today. We're a voting demographic for whom the political process really doesn't intersect with our daily lives all that much. We may turn out to vote, but we're not usually that engaged with it . . . Now we've got a candidate who we can very well imagine having over for a play date. Who gets it that the conversation about which teacher your kid had for first grade and I'm not sure that I like what they're doing with this latest math curriculum matter--and joined the PTA to do something about it. A candidate who respects us. A true feminist who lives the fact that whether I want to have a career or want to stay home with my kids, or whether I want to combine those--it's all good. Not a faux feminist who's implying that my kids are a waste of my time. A woman who's inspired usually silent multitudes to say "I am Sarah Palin. Her story is my story." (Maybe I ought to get me one of those t-shirts. I like her.)

Beauty and theology

Creation and destruction. Beauty and ugliness. We worship Creator-God, and when we create, we live out the fact that we are made in his image. On the flip side, when we destroy, we undercut the very purpose for which we were made--by turning ourselves into vandals, we in some sense work to unmake ourselves. When our agenda results in destructions, when our actions result in ugliness, when our theology results in discord, something needs to be reexamined. The call of the Kingdom is to shalom, a word that gets translated "peace" but actually gets at harmony--when everything fits together into one whole thing of beauty.

Here's wishing the best to Bristol Palin

Others have already written about this situation ad naseum. All I have to say is that I'm thankful that Bristol Palin has what looks to be a strong support system through what's probably going to be a very challenging time. Many aren't so lucky. If you've been bothered this week by the politicization of one teenager's story, I'd encourage you to do something about it by helping out another mom who needs it. Buy a couple of packages of diapers and some new pacifiers for your local crisis pregnancy center. Buy a few cans of formula for your local food bank (there's never enough of it). Make sure that the unwed mothers in or connected to your congregation get their baby showers too. The right has taken some justified criticism that they care more for the babies in tough luck situations before they're born than after. Take some steps to make that less true this week. And do it as a tribute to one young woman who looks to be following in her mother's footsteps for doing what she's going to do and not much caring what the rest of the world who doesn't know her thinks about it.

spiritual healing, crash dieting, and four bullet points to a perfect Christian walk

Do we really appreciate, in the Christian community, how long real healing and real growth take? I don't think so . . . It makes me think of the dieting cycle so prevalent in our society. of Gain weight over months or years. Decide to do better. Lose weight via grapefruits, South Beach, the latest new pill . . . okay, so the weight might come off temporarily, but are you really prepared to eat that much grapefruit forever? When things go back to "normal" is the weight going to come back? Usually, real change for a healthier body means starting by adjusting what our idea of normal is . . . what's our goal anyway? To look good? Or to actually be healthy? There is, after all, rather more to health than the ill-thought-out Body Mass Index.

Likewise in our churches. I wonder how much of what's being preached on any given Sunday in the U.S. amounts to the selling of the upside-down diet, or how to count your points . . . bullet points and strategies that might have some good foundational theology under there, but might not . . . are we really looking to know God and have him heal and transform every dark and broken area of our lives with his light and truth? Or are we looking for a bit of a tool kit so we can make ourselves look spiritually good for each other? Are we judging and practicing our theology against the standard of lasting sanctification? Or against measurable-by-next-Sunday results?

extraordinary, unsustainable efforts, for visible short-term reults . . .

shameless plug

my cousin and his family are some of the extras in the background of Brandon Heath's phenomenal new video "Give Me Your Eyes." (The reuniting family).



I've written before about what it would mean for us to deliberately look and try to see each other as Christ sees us. To see the checker at the grocery store as made in the very image of creative God. To see the brand new baby as the one whose sin Christ died for. To see the pain and hurt and frustrations that drive seemingly inexplicable bad decisions. And now, how do I be Jesus for them into their lives? Indeed, give me your eyes, Lord.

Oh, and if you need a first class Christian magician, check out my cousin Curt.

back from the underground

hellooooo, zeeba neighba!

Well, the kids are back in the school and I'm easing back into something that feels like a more normal schedule for the school year. Looking back over the summer . . . and what? Three posts for July and nothing so far for August? Well, it's been a summer of swim lessons, vacations, in-laws, outlaws, relatives, concerts and church business, and finally trying to get into shape. But here's a sampling of the raw material of the posts that might have been this summer. (And might yet be for all that).

Lolcats have provided some good laughs

Erin, Jared, Happy, and others have explored our schizophrenic relationship with devotionals and Bible reading. I will admit to my own viewpoint being somewhat . . . schizophrenic.

Rob pointed me to a really good article on children's ministry in the church. I could write a book around this subject . . .

Tyler, Jennifer, Tara, and others write about the place of fear in our lives. L.M. Montgomery wrote of one of her characters, Walter, "Realites never frightened him--only his imagination could do that." This was a man who was accused of cowardice in the face of World War I because he did not want to face the ugliness of the trenches. Someone who as a boy, learned the truth of Shakespeare's observation that "Fear is more pain than the pain it fears." Which is in turn, I think, all tied up with worry, and fretting, and control issues, and of course real pains and hurt . . . a horrible mess from the pit of hell . . . certainly more than I'll untangle in one blog post.

We've had some great adjectives on Apples Two Apples

Heather did a rant against hymns series this summer. Some of her points I agreed with, and on some of them I thought that she was really off base, or historically ignorant of where these things were coming from, or both. But I'm certainly glad to see people taking what we sing seriously enough to hold it up for examination. I may disagree about specifics, but I agree that what we sing matters.

My toddler is potty training. Third time round, I'm finding the process more tedious than illuminating or spiritually refining. It takes a lot of time.

My husband got me Rome for my birthday. :)

I really liked the North Sea Drainage project . . . it's as off base as many of the ideas I come up with myself.

Yahoo Games put out a deadly-addictive little thing called Marble Lines

And oh, yeah. I've been reading comics. Lots and lots of comics. And occasionally mocking them, too.