The time has almost arrived for T and I to head to Hawaii. After having spent so many years wanting to go I now feel strangely ambivalent about it. I think this may be due to the fact that T and I haven't been each other's favorite friend lately. I'm hoping a little South Pacific moonlight might help. Actually, maybe it's just the sleep thing again. Guess there's plenty of time to sleep on the plane tomorrow.
Or maybe I feel guilty about doing something so nice? Like someone said earlier today-- if you've felt you've gotten lots of undeserved blessings it's your job to appreciate them and spread them around. So Thank You, Lord, for such a privilege.
Aloha, Rose
Thursday, October 28, 2004
Monday, October 25, 2004
Through a Glass Darkly
I wish I could understand what is wrong with me. No matter what I try to do, apparently I am not a nice person. The depth of feeling I have for my family, friends and God is trapped behind a darkly tinted and soundproof piece of glass that I cannot break.
I would like to say that when I came to know Christ, the glass broke and all this love came pouring out. Maybe for a while it trickled out but then somehow the cracks fused and it dammed up again. All the love and kindness inside is a deep pool of water, flowing and swirling and only visible to those who care enough to press their faces to the glass and look deeply.
What will it take for the glass to shatter and the love to flow? How do I stop the merciless transformation to mean old lady, frozen and frightened and angry, shouting at children from the high window of a dark house?
God grant me the ability to show not only my love but your love as well. Fill me: let me finally be so full that the glass is broken.
For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known. -- 1 Corinthians 13:12
I would like to say that when I came to know Christ, the glass broke and all this love came pouring out. Maybe for a while it trickled out but then somehow the cracks fused and it dammed up again. All the love and kindness inside is a deep pool of water, flowing and swirling and only visible to those who care enough to press their faces to the glass and look deeply.
What will it take for the glass to shatter and the love to flow? How do I stop the merciless transformation to mean old lady, frozen and frightened and angry, shouting at children from the high window of a dark house?
God grant me the ability to show not only my love but your love as well. Fill me: let me finally be so full that the glass is broken.
For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known. -- 1 Corinthians 13:12
Monday, October 18, 2004
Vote-B-Gone(tm)
Do you vote?
It's easy to forget, as I sit here today, that in 1917, women went to jail for me. They endured beatings, squalid living conditions, vermin-infested food, force feedings and more because they wanted me to have the freedom to vote. My own grandmother was born into a world where half of the population was forbidden to cast a ballot.
Easy, too, to not think too much about the "religious persecution" that brought the pilgrims here in the first place. The fact that for centuries Catholics and protestants burned, maimed, tortured and murdered one another because one group or another was out of favor of the king or queen doesn't have real meaning for American voters -- even though it should.
Forget the American Revolution -- almost everyone else has. Do you remember anything about the Quartering Act of 1774, the Stamp Act, the Boston Massacre? I stood on a ship in Boston Harbor and tried to wrap my mind around what had been bought for me with blood and sacrifice and I finally got it, just a little bit. But that was years ago.
I drove through Philadelphia Mississippi and I thought about the horrors endured by Civil Rights protesters of the 1960s. I stood in front of the Civil Rights Memorial in Montgomery, Alabama and contemplated each name and date on the black marble. And I wonder now if we have distilled the essence and the message of Martin Luther King Jr. into just another bank holiday.
The thousands of men and women who died in war are just another historical footnote while we sit, fat, dumb and happy, flipping channels and opting out of our sacred duty to choose a representative government. Certain young people in my life inform me in an offhand way that they don't plan to vote because "they're just not interested". The 2000 election expected 19 million evangelical Christians to vote - but four million of them sat out the third closest presidential election in history.
We bat the word freedom around a lot these days and hopefully it isn't losing its context. Freedom to me means that as I cast my ballot this year, it has a significance that people in Iraq, Afghanistan, most of Africa, the Middle East and Asia can only dream of. It's not just my right to go and physically cast my ballot without coming to harm. It's the power of the paper -- that my vote does dictate to an elected official what I want my country to be, how I want to live and what legacy I'd like to leave. It's the sole reason why immigrants flood our borders, why people love us, hate us, envy us and sometimes wish they were us.
November 2 is my President's Day, Martin Luther King Day, Veteran's Day, Fourth of July, Patriot's Day and Women's Equality Day all rolled into one. As the ballot passes from my hands and on to the electoral college, I will not forget how it got there.
It's easy to forget, as I sit here today, that in 1917, women went to jail for me. They endured beatings, squalid living conditions, vermin-infested food, force feedings and more because they wanted me to have the freedom to vote. My own grandmother was born into a world where half of the population was forbidden to cast a ballot.
Easy, too, to not think too much about the "religious persecution" that brought the pilgrims here in the first place. The fact that for centuries Catholics and protestants burned, maimed, tortured and murdered one another because one group or another was out of favor of the king or queen doesn't have real meaning for American voters -- even though it should.
Forget the American Revolution -- almost everyone else has. Do you remember anything about the Quartering Act of 1774, the Stamp Act, the Boston Massacre? I stood on a ship in Boston Harbor and tried to wrap my mind around what had been bought for me with blood and sacrifice and I finally got it, just a little bit. But that was years ago.
I drove through Philadelphia Mississippi and I thought about the horrors endured by Civil Rights protesters of the 1960s. I stood in front of the Civil Rights Memorial in Montgomery, Alabama and contemplated each name and date on the black marble. And I wonder now if we have distilled the essence and the message of Martin Luther King Jr. into just another bank holiday.
The thousands of men and women who died in war are just another historical footnote while we sit, fat, dumb and happy, flipping channels and opting out of our sacred duty to choose a representative government. Certain young people in my life inform me in an offhand way that they don't plan to vote because "they're just not interested". The 2000 election expected 19 million evangelical Christians to vote - but four million of them sat out the third closest presidential election in history.
We bat the word freedom around a lot these days and hopefully it isn't losing its context. Freedom to me means that as I cast my ballot this year, it has a significance that people in Iraq, Afghanistan, most of Africa, the Middle East and Asia can only dream of. It's not just my right to go and physically cast my ballot without coming to harm. It's the power of the paper -- that my vote does dictate to an elected official what I want my country to be, how I want to live and what legacy I'd like to leave. It's the sole reason why immigrants flood our borders, why people love us, hate us, envy us and sometimes wish they were us.
November 2 is my President's Day, Martin Luther King Day, Veteran's Day, Fourth of July, Patriot's Day and Women's Equality Day all rolled into one. As the ballot passes from my hands and on to the electoral college, I will not forget how it got there.
Friday, October 15, 2004
A few roses, a few random thoughts
I'm happy because it's the end of a very long week and tomorrow I get to sleep.
I also got to sit down for a short period of time and watch TV last night, a past time which has long ago passed in to luxury status from everyday habit status.
K actually cooked her first full meal last night - I showed her how to grill pork chops and she nuked potatoes and made salad. She isn't ready for the CIA (Culinary version, not undercover spy version) yet but at least I know she won't starve when she grows up. T and I ran around getting all our camping chores and house chores done while she cooked so we could all bug out for the weekend.
Hawaii is just 2 weeks away!
Whatever happened to equal representation? My absentee ballot is loaded with candidates of a certain party -- all running unopposed. If I knew how to go about it the right way, I might actually consider running myself. I'm sick of not having a voice in state government!
Whew, I feel better now!
Oh, here's a few roses...
The "Not Your Typical Top 40" Award: For Chris Thile, who has just released another CD, "Deceiver". I just love variety: country, roots, newgrass, bluegrass, alternative, Christian contemporary, blues... Chris is part of one of my favorite bands, Nickel Creek. New material from any member of the band is always welcome in my CD player!
The "Cool Remerchandising" Award: To the Hampton Inn, which has remerchandised every part of their hotel from the signage ("Smile") in the elevator to the soap wrapper. Not to mention, they finally made shower that are spacious enough that the shower curtain doesn't stick to your leg while you bathe.
The "Instantly Much Better, thanks" Award: I have never shelled out for expensive makeup for myself but I had to try something drastic when I developed a dry, itchy rash from my nose to the outside of my mouth. I ran in to Aveda and they sent me out with 3 products that have instantly improved my skin. My makeup is lighter, the rash is almost gone and my skin looks and feels healthier. I learned a long time ago that cheap shampoo is a mistake and for some people, I guess cheap makeup is too.
I also got to sit down for a short period of time and watch TV last night, a past time which has long ago passed in to luxury status from everyday habit status.
K actually cooked her first full meal last night - I showed her how to grill pork chops and she nuked potatoes and made salad. She isn't ready for the CIA (Culinary version, not undercover spy version) yet but at least I know she won't starve when she grows up. T and I ran around getting all our camping chores and house chores done while she cooked so we could all bug out for the weekend.
Hawaii is just 2 weeks away!
Whatever happened to equal representation? My absentee ballot is loaded with candidates of a certain party -- all running unopposed. If I knew how to go about it the right way, I might actually consider running myself. I'm sick of not having a voice in state government!
Whew, I feel better now!
Oh, here's a few roses...
The "Not Your Typical Top 40" Award: For Chris Thile, who has just released another CD, "Deceiver". I just love variety: country, roots, newgrass, bluegrass, alternative, Christian contemporary, blues... Chris is part of one of my favorite bands, Nickel Creek. New material from any member of the band is always welcome in my CD player!
The "Cool Remerchandising" Award: To the Hampton Inn, which has remerchandised every part of their hotel from the signage ("Smile") in the elevator to the soap wrapper. Not to mention, they finally made shower that are spacious enough that the shower curtain doesn't stick to your leg while you bathe.
The "Instantly Much Better, thanks" Award: I have never shelled out for expensive makeup for myself but I had to try something drastic when I developed a dry, itchy rash from my nose to the outside of my mouth. I ran in to Aveda and they sent me out with 3 products that have instantly improved my skin. My makeup is lighter, the rash is almost gone and my skin looks and feels healthier. I learned a long time ago that cheap shampoo is a mistake and for some people, I guess cheap makeup is too.
Monday, October 11, 2004
There and Back Again
I'm back from the road. I love being out and I love coming back. Like Bilbo, I love a little adventure but it's comforting to come home to my little hobbit hole for a nice cup of tea.
I really enjoy people watching and people watching in airports is like the Olympic level of human observation. I had a lot of fun watching a stylish and zealous guy who was working at a burrito stand in O'Hare. He was one of those guys who works fast, friendly and with a patented patter. You couldn't help but smile at him, even when the cashiers were three times as slow and not nearly so nice.
Also at ORD, some lady actually called me honey and put her hand on my shoulder. I don't even remember why she did it but after a week of very little physical contact (other than the grip-n-grin sessions at business meetings) it was sort of nice. Comforting.
While at one of my meetings I was intrigued by the fringe people (of which I am one) -- those people who don't know how to gracefully insinuate themselves in to a conversations with customers and so instead choose to hang out at the fringes of the party, nursing a drink and passing the time. Some people do this with great grace. Some even begin chatting with other fringe people, thereby becoming un-fringe-y. (But we're all always relieved when our coworkers finally show up).
Also, I found out that if you laugh a lot and blush a little while you're getting the post 9-11 security patdown, security workers really appreciate your good humor. I am now best friends with some security workers in the Nashville airport and told them so. Heck, with that degree of intimacy we're probably engaged in some countries. I like that I was able to make them laugh a little -- I'm sure they get ragged on for most of the day and don't expect someone to have a sense of humor about getting felt up in a public place.
In a time where people are so accustomed to and prepared for people to be unkind or at the very most, aloof, I see there's still a lot of warmth and generosity out there. Cheerful bus drivers, polite passers-by, friendly customer service agents, genuinely nice fellow travelers. Makes the trip there and back again just a little bit better.
I really enjoy people watching and people watching in airports is like the Olympic level of human observation. I had a lot of fun watching a stylish and zealous guy who was working at a burrito stand in O'Hare. He was one of those guys who works fast, friendly and with a patented patter. You couldn't help but smile at him, even when the cashiers were three times as slow and not nearly so nice.
Also at ORD, some lady actually called me honey and put her hand on my shoulder. I don't even remember why she did it but after a week of very little physical contact (other than the grip-n-grin sessions at business meetings) it was sort of nice. Comforting.
While at one of my meetings I was intrigued by the fringe people (of which I am one) -- those people who don't know how to gracefully insinuate themselves in to a conversations with customers and so instead choose to hang out at the fringes of the party, nursing a drink and passing the time. Some people do this with great grace. Some even begin chatting with other fringe people, thereby becoming un-fringe-y. (But we're all always relieved when our coworkers finally show up).
Also, I found out that if you laugh a lot and blush a little while you're getting the post 9-11 security patdown, security workers really appreciate your good humor. I am now best friends with some security workers in the Nashville airport and told them so. Heck, with that degree of intimacy we're probably engaged in some countries. I like that I was able to make them laugh a little -- I'm sure they get ragged on for most of the day and don't expect someone to have a sense of humor about getting felt up in a public place.
In a time where people are so accustomed to and prepared for people to be unkind or at the very most, aloof, I see there's still a lot of warmth and generosity out there. Cheerful bus drivers, polite passers-by, friendly customer service agents, genuinely nice fellow travelers. Makes the trip there and back again just a little bit better.
Poem from the Road
I slide away from your sleep foggy shore
banked in blankets, slipping back to sleep
as I ease into the navy dawn and drive away.
At the airport, steam and smoke is
wisping upward toward the peachy dawn and
sleepy faces are lining up for morning coffee and bread.
I'm traveling onward to another city but I'm
drifting in and out of orchid-scented dreams
where the trip is taken hand in hand with you, out to the sea.
I lose all sense of time out here, and sense of self
is lost as well -- I tuck neatly into a ticket folder or
hang upon a borrowed hanger, until it's time to come back home.
banked in blankets, slipping back to sleep
as I ease into the navy dawn and drive away.
At the airport, steam and smoke is
wisping upward toward the peachy dawn and
sleepy faces are lining up for morning coffee and bread.
I'm traveling onward to another city but I'm
drifting in and out of orchid-scented dreams
where the trip is taken hand in hand with you, out to the sea.
I lose all sense of time out here, and sense of self
is lost as well -- I tuck neatly into a ticket folder or
hang upon a borrowed hanger, until it's time to come back home.
Friday, October 01, 2004
Most Boring Blog on Earth?
In the last 24 hours I have:
1) eaten Mongolian BBQ with my coworkers
2) had an argument with my teenager
3) received tolerance and (almost) sympathy from my husband
4) watched the Presidential debate
5) watched and accordingly, yelled at/cheered, Survivor
6) eaten 2 filled donuts
7) found out my eldest stepdaughter is registering to vote for Bush
8) scammed free tickets to the Renaissance Festival
9) folded a load of laundry
10) turned my calendar over to October
In my world, any of these topics are ripe for the blogging. In the big, scary, outside world, they probably wouldn't be very inspiring to anyone else, to write about or to read. Some guy whose blog I recently skimmed commented that the most boring blogs on earth are those written by generally happy married women -- this sin of boredom is further enhanced by any mention of children and overt references to Jesus or God.
Guess that makes me guilty on all counts.
Well, I don't care! It's my blog and I'll be dull as dirt if I want to. I have decided that in my life, excitement always seems to equate with bad luck anyway. As in, "Yeah, Jim Bob and I were over at the tavern and there was a little excitement (full on brawl that ended in stitches and multiple arrests)." Or, "I don't know what you're getting so excited (really, royally, pi$$ed) about." I don't want any more excitement in my life. Maybe ever. I would like an "I'm-pleasantly-bored-out-of-my-skull-but-I-have-plenty-of-time-for-crafts" life. A "I'll-be-shopping-all-the-grocery-stores-for-the-best-deals-just-because-I-can" life. Some of my friends have been having some excitement in their lives lately... a co-worker/good friend lost a truck, boat and probably his home in Hurricane Ivan. He and his wife found a 4 day dead jellyfish in a bedroom closet. They've had to throw out every carefully-selected-to-match-the wallpaper-accent-pillow and every save-up-for-something-really-nice appliance they had. Beds, bows, tupperware, shoes, TVs, deep freeze full of food, you name it-- all ruined by 3 feet of sewage and seawater. See? Who needs excitement?
Maybe some people read blogs because they're a cheap soap-opera substitute. I personally like to read blogs with pretty pictures (something I haven't quite mastered myself) and really good writing. Not just clever writing -- there are a lot of people in the blogosphere that fancy themselves smarter and funnier than they are-- but real writing, thoughtful, perceptive and intelligent.
I personally think the most boring blog in the world is one that, like the person it's hiding, tries to be something it's not. I'll do my best to blog the real me -- in all my confused, self-centered, whiny, frank and silly glory. From my counter, it looks like I won't be boring too many people anyway.
1) eaten Mongolian BBQ with my coworkers
2) had an argument with my teenager
3) received tolerance and (almost) sympathy from my husband
4) watched the Presidential debate
5) watched and accordingly, yelled at/cheered, Survivor
6) eaten 2 filled donuts
7) found out my eldest stepdaughter is registering to vote for Bush
8) scammed free tickets to the Renaissance Festival
9) folded a load of laundry
10) turned my calendar over to October
In my world, any of these topics are ripe for the blogging. In the big, scary, outside world, they probably wouldn't be very inspiring to anyone else, to write about or to read. Some guy whose blog I recently skimmed commented that the most boring blogs on earth are those written by generally happy married women -- this sin of boredom is further enhanced by any mention of children and overt references to Jesus or God.
Guess that makes me guilty on all counts.
Well, I don't care! It's my blog and I'll be dull as dirt if I want to. I have decided that in my life, excitement always seems to equate with bad luck anyway. As in, "Yeah, Jim Bob and I were over at the tavern and there was a little excitement (full on brawl that ended in stitches and multiple arrests)." Or, "I don't know what you're getting so excited (really, royally, pi$$ed) about." I don't want any more excitement in my life. Maybe ever. I would like an "I'm-pleasantly-bored-out-of-my-skull-but-I-have-plenty-of-time-for-crafts" life. A "I'll-be-shopping-all-the-grocery-stores-for-the-best-deals-just-because-I-can" life. Some of my friends have been having some excitement in their lives lately... a co-worker/good friend lost a truck, boat and probably his home in Hurricane Ivan. He and his wife found a 4 day dead jellyfish in a bedroom closet. They've had to throw out every carefully-selected-to-match-the wallpaper-accent-pillow and every save-up-for-something-really-nice appliance they had. Beds, bows, tupperware, shoes, TVs, deep freeze full of food, you name it-- all ruined by 3 feet of sewage and seawater. See? Who needs excitement?
Maybe some people read blogs because they're a cheap soap-opera substitute. I personally like to read blogs with pretty pictures (something I haven't quite mastered myself) and really good writing. Not just clever writing -- there are a lot of people in the blogosphere that fancy themselves smarter and funnier than they are-- but real writing, thoughtful, perceptive and intelligent.
I personally think the most boring blog in the world is one that, like the person it's hiding, tries to be something it's not. I'll do my best to blog the real me -- in all my confused, self-centered, whiny, frank and silly glory. From my counter, it looks like I won't be boring too many people anyway.
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