Because I'm going to be in Atlanta in two days! I'm going on Passion 2010, and, as David Crowder has been involved with Passion stuffs, I figured I'd post some lyrics which make me feel better.
There’s a darkness in my skin
My cover’s wearing thin, I believe
I’d love to start again, go back to innocent
And never leave
Don’t give up now
A break in the clouds
We could be found
There’s nothing wrong with me
It’s just that I believe things could get better
And there’s nothing wrong with love
I think it’s just enough to believe
Don’t give up now
A break in the clouds
We could be found
Rescue is coming
Rescue is coming
Rescue is coming
Rescue is coming
And there’s nothing wrong with you
And nothing left to do
But believe something bigger
And there’s nothing wrong with love
I know it’s just enough to believe
Don’t give up now
A break in the clouds
We will be found
Rescue is coming
Rescue is coming
Rescue is coming
Rescue is coming now
-Rescue is Coming, David Crowder* Band
Thursday, December 31, 2009
With Promises of Future Hopeful Reconsideration
You ever believe in something?
I’m not talking about the big ideals here, like Truth, Beauty, Freedom and Love or anything like that, I’m talking about something small. Maybe you believed the Wicked Witch of the West really was real, her and her flying monkeys. Maybe you believed there was sincerely something in the dark, something that you wouldn’t want to meet in the light. Maybe you believed you were really a princess (I hear all girls do this to some degree) and you just waited on the day that Mr. and Mrs. King would drive up and take you to your castle. Or maybe you feel victim to a misconception. Maybe you thought that stars were something you could pick up a handful of, since the Enterprise flies past them so easily (shout out to Sir Patrick Stewart) or maybe you thought that the proximity of Earth to the Sun causes the seasons. Maybe you believed in your brain of brains that library was spelled with one ‘r.’
Maybe you believed something bigger and crazier. Maybe you believed he really loved you, he was just too afraid to say something. Maybe you believed you could make it somewhere big or make a difference in the world. Maybe you believed that this generation is the generation, the one that’s going to make this world a better place. Maybe you believed that, at the core, we’re all good.
Favorite new word of the day: Mythopoeia. It means the making of myths or something like that. Go ahead, I’ll wait while you google it to confirm and contradict. And the truth is, as humanity, we like to make up myths. We like to explain things away with new little lies and we like to put importance where importance isn’t due. Like the New Year, for example. It’s a new beginning, a time to start over, a time to empty your bank accounts so the government doesn’t take the money you haven’t saved for a car you’re not going to get when you fill out your FAFSA, a time for When Harry Met Sally, a time when we pretend like we all have the self will and confidence to keep up with a list resolutions that will somehow make our lives better. New Year’s gets myth status. Anyone else remember Rudolph’s Shiny New Year?
But really, it’s just another day. You can be encouraging and you can say that, in that case, every day is a new chance to be someone better, to renew those resolutions and that determination to improve the world around you (and I mean quite immediately around you) and so every day is New Year’s, just like every day when there’s peace and goodwill towards men (or towards those upon whom His favor rests, I never remember which is the official version) is Christmas. It’s the idea, the spirit behind the thing. In the spirit of honesty, I’d have to say it’s all a lie. But in the spirit of Having Something to Believe In, I’d say it’s worth keeping around.
And I do have to say that I’m a bit biased against New Year’s. It’s a time to think about the year that’s passed and I’d rather not. And it’s a time to think about the year to come, and I’d rather not. I’d rather run up to the mountains and find me a nice cave with a space heater close to a fast food restaurant than think about where I’ve been or where I’m going (or where I am for that matter). I don’t know what resolutions I’d make. I’m inclined to say none. Aren’t I great just as I am? Nope, never good enough. Welcome to my world.
You know, I had this stalker (and I use the term as derisively as possible, because I’m a terrible and heartless person with no intention of repentance on this without a divine edict) who sent me a message on Facebook asking, “How do I get to know you?” No ‘Hi, how are you, I was just wondering what was going on in your world,’ no ease into the conversation and no reason for it at all, just “How do I get to know you?” And because I’m a nice, indulgent person, I sent some witty and guarded reply back, but I was willing to start the pathetic excuse for a friendship that Facebook messaging offers. It turns out that he had been reading my blog (privacy settings updated? I think so) and he wanted to know if I was a ‘Super Christian’, meaning that I believed in heaven and hell. I personally think that there’s a lot more to Christianity beyond heaven and hell, but he asked me a theological question, and, like the sucker I am, I bit. I wrote long replies which he answered with long replies. I became the dumping ground of atheistic logic and lack thereof, coming from someone who had had a close, personal relationship with God and then realized that it’s all a lie. I was tempted to put air quotes around the close, personal relationship so we would all be aware that it’s a lie. A semester with Bennie taught me well.
So I blew him off. He told me that it sounded like I believed what I believed because I had believed it my whole life and because I didn’t like the things he was proposing. (As a side note, What meaning can you possibly find in a Universe completely ruled by random chance and odd happenings? How do you marvel at the beauty of something if you think that we make up beauty? How do you get out of bed in the morning and say, ‘Hey, I think that all my happy feelings are created by chemicals in my body and all of the purpose I put into my day is entirely self-imposed and partially a reflection of the society in which I was raised so I’m just going to breathe another breath because it’s a survival instinct and go about my day’? And I’m not saying that that’s a defense of God, I’m saying that we have a reason to live beyond chemicals and I’m not saying that just because I have a bias against chemists. I do love Sherlock Holmes. End side note.) I tried as politely as I could- OK, that’s a lie, I layered on caustic sarcasm as I told him that I obviously haven’t thought out a thing about what I believe and that I hoped he would find what he was looking for. Then I deleted him from my friends list and blocked him and there’s another Christian unwilling to listen to an atheist out in the world.
And it’s not that I’m unwilling to listen, it’s that I have listened and I have thought, just not enough to have a watertight argument against the first thing that’s thrown at me. How is God any different than New Year’s Eve? He makes you think about where you’ve been and what you want to be better about and He gives you a new beginning. How do I know that God isn’t as made up as the end of the year (and slightly less accurate to boot, which is a lark, considering how terrible our calendars are and the fact that we have to add extra seconds every so many years and a whole day every once in a while, I mean, who thought that up, we should redefine the second so we can live our lives without this confusion, just pick another atom with a different electron transition, geeze)?
I don’t have an answer for that. I have my beliefs and my experiences and my hopes, all of which could be lies. And at the end of the metaphorical day, when humanity has explained everything away, when we have probed the fathoms of the deep and the depths of the soul and compiled it all neatly in a data storage space, in short, when we have lost our curiosity and our humanity, there may not be room for God and the people of the future will shake their heads at our quaint beliefs.
Remember Job? There’s this chunk in there, maybe someone put it in later, maybe the original author really meant for it to be there, but he talks about knowing that his Redeemer lives, someone who will plead his case before God and make God answer for what He’s done and why He’s done it. I don’t want to make ice cream castles in the air of faith, you know? I don’t want to cheapen someone’s faith or take them away from it. But we think, we love, we laugh, we cry, we feel, we are fearfully and wonderfully made and we deserve a Redeemer, we deserve a reason. A reason for this damn doubt, for this painful world, for this irredeemable sin. For believing, for not believing, for creating, for not stopping, for not knowing what He stopped, for living in this haze of a mystery, effing unnamed deity leading us onto confusion.
But I’m going to wake up, God willing. And maybe that’s reason enough for now.
I’m not talking about the big ideals here, like Truth, Beauty, Freedom and Love or anything like that, I’m talking about something small. Maybe you believed the Wicked Witch of the West really was real, her and her flying monkeys. Maybe you believed there was sincerely something in the dark, something that you wouldn’t want to meet in the light. Maybe you believed you were really a princess (I hear all girls do this to some degree) and you just waited on the day that Mr. and Mrs. King would drive up and take you to your castle. Or maybe you feel victim to a misconception. Maybe you thought that stars were something you could pick up a handful of, since the Enterprise flies past them so easily (shout out to Sir Patrick Stewart) or maybe you thought that the proximity of Earth to the Sun causes the seasons. Maybe you believed in your brain of brains that library was spelled with one ‘r.’
Maybe you believed something bigger and crazier. Maybe you believed he really loved you, he was just too afraid to say something. Maybe you believed you could make it somewhere big or make a difference in the world. Maybe you believed that this generation is the generation, the one that’s going to make this world a better place. Maybe you believed that, at the core, we’re all good.
Favorite new word of the day: Mythopoeia. It means the making of myths or something like that. Go ahead, I’ll wait while you google it to confirm and contradict. And the truth is, as humanity, we like to make up myths. We like to explain things away with new little lies and we like to put importance where importance isn’t due. Like the New Year, for example. It’s a new beginning, a time to start over, a time to empty your bank accounts so the government doesn’t take the money you haven’t saved for a car you’re not going to get when you fill out your FAFSA, a time for When Harry Met Sally, a time when we pretend like we all have the self will and confidence to keep up with a list resolutions that will somehow make our lives better. New Year’s gets myth status. Anyone else remember Rudolph’s Shiny New Year?
But really, it’s just another day. You can be encouraging and you can say that, in that case, every day is a new chance to be someone better, to renew those resolutions and that determination to improve the world around you (and I mean quite immediately around you) and so every day is New Year’s, just like every day when there’s peace and goodwill towards men (or towards those upon whom His favor rests, I never remember which is the official version) is Christmas. It’s the idea, the spirit behind the thing. In the spirit of honesty, I’d have to say it’s all a lie. But in the spirit of Having Something to Believe In, I’d say it’s worth keeping around.
And I do have to say that I’m a bit biased against New Year’s. It’s a time to think about the year that’s passed and I’d rather not. And it’s a time to think about the year to come, and I’d rather not. I’d rather run up to the mountains and find me a nice cave with a space heater close to a fast food restaurant than think about where I’ve been or where I’m going (or where I am for that matter). I don’t know what resolutions I’d make. I’m inclined to say none. Aren’t I great just as I am? Nope, never good enough. Welcome to my world.
You know, I had this stalker (and I use the term as derisively as possible, because I’m a terrible and heartless person with no intention of repentance on this without a divine edict) who sent me a message on Facebook asking, “How do I get to know you?” No ‘Hi, how are you, I was just wondering what was going on in your world,’ no ease into the conversation and no reason for it at all, just “How do I get to know you?” And because I’m a nice, indulgent person, I sent some witty and guarded reply back, but I was willing to start the pathetic excuse for a friendship that Facebook messaging offers. It turns out that he had been reading my blog (privacy settings updated? I think so) and he wanted to know if I was a ‘Super Christian’, meaning that I believed in heaven and hell. I personally think that there’s a lot more to Christianity beyond heaven and hell, but he asked me a theological question, and, like the sucker I am, I bit. I wrote long replies which he answered with long replies. I became the dumping ground of atheistic logic and lack thereof, coming from someone who had had a close, personal relationship with God and then realized that it’s all a lie. I was tempted to put air quotes around the close, personal relationship so we would all be aware that it’s a lie. A semester with Bennie taught me well.
So I blew him off. He told me that it sounded like I believed what I believed because I had believed it my whole life and because I didn’t like the things he was proposing. (As a side note, What meaning can you possibly find in a Universe completely ruled by random chance and odd happenings? How do you marvel at the beauty of something if you think that we make up beauty? How do you get out of bed in the morning and say, ‘Hey, I think that all my happy feelings are created by chemicals in my body and all of the purpose I put into my day is entirely self-imposed and partially a reflection of the society in which I was raised so I’m just going to breathe another breath because it’s a survival instinct and go about my day’? And I’m not saying that that’s a defense of God, I’m saying that we have a reason to live beyond chemicals and I’m not saying that just because I have a bias against chemists. I do love Sherlock Holmes. End side note.) I tried as politely as I could- OK, that’s a lie, I layered on caustic sarcasm as I told him that I obviously haven’t thought out a thing about what I believe and that I hoped he would find what he was looking for. Then I deleted him from my friends list and blocked him and there’s another Christian unwilling to listen to an atheist out in the world.
And it’s not that I’m unwilling to listen, it’s that I have listened and I have thought, just not enough to have a watertight argument against the first thing that’s thrown at me. How is God any different than New Year’s Eve? He makes you think about where you’ve been and what you want to be better about and He gives you a new beginning. How do I know that God isn’t as made up as the end of the year (and slightly less accurate to boot, which is a lark, considering how terrible our calendars are and the fact that we have to add extra seconds every so many years and a whole day every once in a while, I mean, who thought that up, we should redefine the second so we can live our lives without this confusion, just pick another atom with a different electron transition, geeze)?
I don’t have an answer for that. I have my beliefs and my experiences and my hopes, all of which could be lies. And at the end of the metaphorical day, when humanity has explained everything away, when we have probed the fathoms of the deep and the depths of the soul and compiled it all neatly in a data storage space, in short, when we have lost our curiosity and our humanity, there may not be room for God and the people of the future will shake their heads at our quaint beliefs.
Remember Job? There’s this chunk in there, maybe someone put it in later, maybe the original author really meant for it to be there, but he talks about knowing that his Redeemer lives, someone who will plead his case before God and make God answer for what He’s done and why He’s done it. I don’t want to make ice cream castles in the air of faith, you know? I don’t want to cheapen someone’s faith or take them away from it. But we think, we love, we laugh, we cry, we feel, we are fearfully and wonderfully made and we deserve a Redeemer, we deserve a reason. A reason for this damn doubt, for this painful world, for this irredeemable sin. For believing, for not believing, for creating, for not stopping, for not knowing what He stopped, for living in this haze of a mystery, effing unnamed deity leading us onto confusion.
But I’m going to wake up, God willing. And maybe that’s reason enough for now.
Sunday, December 20, 2009
To Be Taken Entirely Seriously, in an Slightly Overly Dramatic Fashion
Can I say that I'm miserable? And it's entirely my own fault. Do you people spent this much time in self-reflection? I am an unmotivated failure who has spent too much time trying to remove the stress in her life to actually be stressed, up until the time when I can no longer keep myself calm. Maybe I should have picked something that was more within my reach, something that I actually have a skill and talent for, but that would have seemed like quitting, like I wasn't good enough to finish the major I'm in. Which I'm not. I don't care enough to devote my every waking moment to it and I'm not smart enough to breeze by without really working and reworking and then working a couple more times the practice problems so I can gain the skill set that is applying physical principles to physics problems. I am not a critical thinker. You tell me to do something, I do it, this is my life. I am the eternal lab tech of life: I run test after test with instructions that were given to me without the thought that one day I might think up an experiment of my own. And it's my fault because I'm lazy. And then I whine because I'm lazy and horrid and apathetic and pathetic and too prideful to admit any of these things to anyone but myself including God who knew them in the first place.
And let's just talk about God for a second. I swear, He let me pick this absurd choice in life just so I would know that I can make sadly low grades and still breathe, that I can fail and fail and fail again and so I would know what it was like to be unable and unprepared to do something that I set out to do but never put my mind to. Don't get me wrong- somewhere deep in the recesses of my exhausted and pained brain, I do like physics, a little. Not enough to date, you understand, but just enough to have the occasional vaguely pleasant conversation so I'd remember why we weren't spending the rest of our lives together. I really think that this is one of the ways we can get to know more about the Person who put all this together and the ways we mess it up. I love it when people talk about atoms and subatomic particles and quarks and quantum fluctuations in the fabric of space-time in the inflationary epoch which might have lead to the large scale structure we see in the universe today. I love thinking about the way particles communicate with each other, never having to open tiny mouths and say words that might confuse others in order to change the temperature of a system or the concentration of a solution or the density of a gas cloud that may collapse in order to put new pinpricks of light in our night sky far in our future or deep in their past. It's epic, how it was all built up, so skillfully, so perfectly, so that we can look out and wonder.
And ignore.
How wretched I am! I was walking down Franklin the other day and I saw a homeless man in his wheelchair and I was looking so intensely at the ground that he said, "Look up, girl, it's going to be all right." And I smiled and said thanks and walked by and bought my Christmas presents and walked back by and never said another word. Cold callous heart. But I don't know that it would help. I don't know what to do to help and so I just shut down, I just bow my head and shut off and never do anything to help anyone. And then I sit in church on Sunday and I can't think of anything to say to my Lord because I ignored Him before so why should He listen to me now? What right do I have to stand before Him, to sit sadly on a white wooden pew and pretend like this is the most important thing to me? He may have been beating down my pride this semester, but other things took its place and they weren't His and then there's no point. It's like cleaning out a fridge, getting rid of the milk that's going to go bad and the salsa that's been bad, only to shove a pizza box and embezzled cheese back inside. Man, good thing I had to defrost my fridge, otherwise I'd been stuck with that stuff.
Well, I say good thing. Me and my roommate complained about it for weeks and didn't want to do it and waited until the last possible second to get rid of everything. Then I sat down with the Clorox wipes and set to wiping everything out, but because it's been so cold, the skin on my fingers is all cracked and bleeding and it wasn't exactly pleasant to rid the fridge and freezer of its grossness. It's never a pleasant job anyway but this turned it into a slightly painful unpleasant job. Funny thing, though, we didn't change anything on the outside- the Cinderella magnets, campus health magnet, football (arg) magnet and NASA magnet all stayed in place. Even Galileo and his tiny stuffed telescope could keep their home while a major overhaul occurred on the inside. But it'll smell a lot better in there and now it's open to better keep more desirable things safe from ruination by the outside world.
We were also talking about how we should probably clean out the fridge more often, like every time we vacuumed or something like that, just so it never got this bad again. How true. If we'd go through more often and make sure that old pieces of cake, outdated containers of yogurt or moldy macaroni and cheese (of which there was none in my fridge, I'm happy to say) got thrown out before they started stinking up the place and if we wiped down the inside every once in a while, it'd never be this bad. It's just when you ignore it and put other things in the way [like exams, you know, things that in no way determine your future life despite their detrimental effects on an already ailing grade point average (3.5 math and physics GPA to write an honors thesis, no wonder there's only been one in the past ten years -insert hysterical giggle here-)] that life gets messy.
And I'm trying to decide how sad it is that the perfect metaphor for my spiritual life (and my real world life, let's be honest) is a mini-fridge.
Happy snow day, all. May we remember, amidst the exciting potential of the first white Christmas of my life and all the craziness that we put upon ourselves this time of year, that the little baby whose birth we celebrate came to fix His world which we broke. Thank God He comes every year.
And let's just talk about God for a second. I swear, He let me pick this absurd choice in life just so I would know that I can make sadly low grades and still breathe, that I can fail and fail and fail again and so I would know what it was like to be unable and unprepared to do something that I set out to do but never put my mind to. Don't get me wrong- somewhere deep in the recesses of my exhausted and pained brain, I do like physics, a little. Not enough to date, you understand, but just enough to have the occasional vaguely pleasant conversation so I'd remember why we weren't spending the rest of our lives together. I really think that this is one of the ways we can get to know more about the Person who put all this together and the ways we mess it up. I love it when people talk about atoms and subatomic particles and quarks and quantum fluctuations in the fabric of space-time in the inflationary epoch which might have lead to the large scale structure we see in the universe today. I love thinking about the way particles communicate with each other, never having to open tiny mouths and say words that might confuse others in order to change the temperature of a system or the concentration of a solution or the density of a gas cloud that may collapse in order to put new pinpricks of light in our night sky far in our future or deep in their past. It's epic, how it was all built up, so skillfully, so perfectly, so that we can look out and wonder.
And ignore.
How wretched I am! I was walking down Franklin the other day and I saw a homeless man in his wheelchair and I was looking so intensely at the ground that he said, "Look up, girl, it's going to be all right." And I smiled and said thanks and walked by and bought my Christmas presents and walked back by and never said another word. Cold callous heart. But I don't know that it would help. I don't know what to do to help and so I just shut down, I just bow my head and shut off and never do anything to help anyone. And then I sit in church on Sunday and I can't think of anything to say to my Lord because I ignored Him before so why should He listen to me now? What right do I have to stand before Him, to sit sadly on a white wooden pew and pretend like this is the most important thing to me? He may have been beating down my pride this semester, but other things took its place and they weren't His and then there's no point. It's like cleaning out a fridge, getting rid of the milk that's going to go bad and the salsa that's been bad, only to shove a pizza box and embezzled cheese back inside. Man, good thing I had to defrost my fridge, otherwise I'd been stuck with that stuff.
Well, I say good thing. Me and my roommate complained about it for weeks and didn't want to do it and waited until the last possible second to get rid of everything. Then I sat down with the Clorox wipes and set to wiping everything out, but because it's been so cold, the skin on my fingers is all cracked and bleeding and it wasn't exactly pleasant to rid the fridge and freezer of its grossness. It's never a pleasant job anyway but this turned it into a slightly painful unpleasant job. Funny thing, though, we didn't change anything on the outside- the Cinderella magnets, campus health magnet, football (arg) magnet and NASA magnet all stayed in place. Even Galileo and his tiny stuffed telescope could keep their home while a major overhaul occurred on the inside. But it'll smell a lot better in there and now it's open to better keep more desirable things safe from ruination by the outside world.
We were also talking about how we should probably clean out the fridge more often, like every time we vacuumed or something like that, just so it never got this bad again. How true. If we'd go through more often and make sure that old pieces of cake, outdated containers of yogurt or moldy macaroni and cheese (of which there was none in my fridge, I'm happy to say) got thrown out before they started stinking up the place and if we wiped down the inside every once in a while, it'd never be this bad. It's just when you ignore it and put other things in the way [like exams, you know, things that in no way determine your future life despite their detrimental effects on an already ailing grade point average (3.5 math and physics GPA to write an honors thesis, no wonder there's only been one in the past ten years -insert hysterical giggle here-)] that life gets messy.
And I'm trying to decide how sad it is that the perfect metaphor for my spiritual life (and my real world life, let's be honest) is a mini-fridge.
Happy snow day, all. May we remember, amidst the exciting potential of the first white Christmas of my life and all the craziness that we put upon ourselves this time of year, that the little baby whose birth we celebrate came to fix His world which we broke. Thank God He comes every year.
Monday, December 14, 2009
What Would I Give
What would I give to be pure in heart
To be pure in flesh and bone
What would I give to be pure in heart
I’d give everything that I own
I’d rid my whole house of its demons of lust
And open the windows of trust
And out of those windows all fear will have flown
I’d give everything that I own
What would I give for the words of God
To come tumbling from the throne
What would I give for the words of God
I’d give everything that I own
I’d open my head and they’d roll right in
When I opened my mouth they’d roll out again
And uproot the weeds of the deeds I have sown
I’d give everything that I own
Now what would I give for my children’s strength
On the day that they stand alone
I mean what would I give for their strength to stand firm
I’d give everything that I own
I’ve wasted my life in accomplishing things
Ignoring the giver of wings
So Lord teach them to fly to the foot of your throne
I’ll give everything that I own
All I’ve accomplished, the titles I hold
My passions, position, possessions and gold
To God they must look like a thimble of foam
And it’s everything that I own
Dirty rags are all that I own
So I stand before God with my stubble and hay
He just laughs, but says there’s still a way
Because “Father, Forgive” are the words Jesus moaned
When He gave everything that He owned
So what would I give to be pure in heart
For the known to be made unknown?
-Jason Gray
And the funny thing is, out of all of the things that could occupy my head and probably should be occupying my head, all the self-righteous anger I adopt in protest at others' pain, this is what He shoves in, this song that I grudgingly put onto my MP-3 player that I reluctantly put on shuffle as I sat down to grade papers. This prayer has just been sitting here, waiting on me to come to it. It's advent is over. And though mine shouldn't be just starting, it is. Excitedly waiting, not just bewailing the hours until I can trudge away again. Oh, the things I could have been! Oh, the things that could be still. What would I give, to really mean the things I say and the things I pray, to be the person that I hoped I could be instead of the person I've settled on being? As a good friend of mine told me, never settle.
I want to fly. And I'm leaving the things that are weighing me down. One. By. One.
To be pure in flesh and bone
What would I give to be pure in heart
I’d give everything that I own
I’d rid my whole house of its demons of lust
And open the windows of trust
And out of those windows all fear will have flown
I’d give everything that I own
What would I give for the words of God
To come tumbling from the throne
What would I give for the words of God
I’d give everything that I own
I’d open my head and they’d roll right in
When I opened my mouth they’d roll out again
And uproot the weeds of the deeds I have sown
I’d give everything that I own
Now what would I give for my children’s strength
On the day that they stand alone
I mean what would I give for their strength to stand firm
I’d give everything that I own
I’ve wasted my life in accomplishing things
Ignoring the giver of wings
So Lord teach them to fly to the foot of your throne
I’ll give everything that I own
All I’ve accomplished, the titles I hold
My passions, position, possessions and gold
To God they must look like a thimble of foam
And it’s everything that I own
Dirty rags are all that I own
So I stand before God with my stubble and hay
He just laughs, but says there’s still a way
Because “Father, Forgive” are the words Jesus moaned
When He gave everything that He owned
So what would I give to be pure in heart
For the known to be made unknown?
-Jason Gray
And the funny thing is, out of all of the things that could occupy my head and probably should be occupying my head, all the self-righteous anger I adopt in protest at others' pain, this is what He shoves in, this song that I grudgingly put onto my MP-3 player that I reluctantly put on shuffle as I sat down to grade papers. This prayer has just been sitting here, waiting on me to come to it. It's advent is over. And though mine shouldn't be just starting, it is. Excitedly waiting, not just bewailing the hours until I can trudge away again. Oh, the things I could have been! Oh, the things that could be still. What would I give, to really mean the things I say and the things I pray, to be the person that I hoped I could be instead of the person I've settled on being? As a good friend of mine told me, never settle.
I want to fly. And I'm leaving the things that are weighing me down. One. By. One.
Saturday, December 5, 2009
Quote of the Minute
One of my fav quotes from Love Actually, just thought I'd share.
Daniel: [laughs] Aren't you a bit young to be in love?
Sam: No.
Daniel: Oh, well, okay... right. Well, I mean, I'm a little relieved.
Sam: Why?
Daniel: Well, because I thought it would be something worse.
Sam: [incredulous] Worse than the total agony of being in love?
Daniel: Oh. No, you're right. Yeah, total agony.
Also, Daniel is played by Liam Neeson, who is also the voice of Aslan, who's really just a stand in for Jesus, therefore, it's true. And now I'm going to go cross myself and head off to confession for blasphemy. Have a lovely evening, everyone.
Daniel: [laughs] Aren't you a bit young to be in love?
Sam: No.
Daniel: Oh, well, okay... right. Well, I mean, I'm a little relieved.
Sam: Why?
Daniel: Well, because I thought it would be something worse.
Sam: [incredulous] Worse than the total agony of being in love?
Daniel: Oh. No, you're right. Yeah, total agony.
Also, Daniel is played by Liam Neeson, who is also the voice of Aslan, who's really just a stand in for Jesus, therefore, it's true. And now I'm going to go cross myself and head off to confession for blasphemy. Have a lovely evening, everyone.
Two Points
Welcome to basketball season.
Can I tell you what a miserable day it is outside today? It's rainy and cold but not cold enough to deliver the promised snow. I haven't seen the sun since yesterday and the trees shake bony fingers at me as I watch the wind push their bare branches around. It's miserable, borderline depressing. Any day that makes you grateful for artificial lighting and an allergy-inducing heating system has to be miserable.
Now Tuesday, that was a fine night. The moon was full and high in the sky with a lovely ring decorating it as we walked out of the Smith Center, warmed by friends and a pretty great game. It was still cold, but it wasn't miserable. And of course, it helped that we won.
But you know, I'm not as upset about today's game as I could be. I mean, we're a young team and Kentucky's in the top 5 for a reason. Excuses aside (because we're not as bad as we played in the first half, as Roy said), I'm glad because it was just a 2-point loss. I'm glad because they fought back and they worked and even if they didn't get all the way there, they tried. The effort wasn't the best in the first half, but they came back from that. We didn't lose by 19. And that's my point.
Just in case you thought I was only going to talk about basketball, I'll throw in a little bit of a life lesson at the end, just to prove that I can tear myself away from our boys on the hardwood. Life can be compared to a lot of things, but my recent life was like that basketball game: it started out decent, fell completely to pieces while somebody beat me at my own game, and came back together towards the end. And, like my poor Heels, I just can't seem to win this game. No matter how I try, the attempts aren't falling the way they should and I walk away slightly dejected. But only slightly. Because I tried and because I learned. Because I fight and because I come back and because I'm not going to let this get me down forever. That makes the difference between losing and being a loser.
So, in a couple of games, if they still haven't figured out the whole turnover thing and the whole let's-make-a-gosh-durn-free-throw thing, I'm going to point back to what Roy said after the game: "This is North Carolina. We're supposed to come back. There are no moral victories in this." And there's not. But there's the chance to be better and there's the knowledge that they can come back. It's not a hopeless cause. And as everything reminds me that exams are around the corner, I need to know that life, even beyond exams, isn't a hopeless cause.
Can I tell you what a miserable day it is outside today? It's rainy and cold but not cold enough to deliver the promised snow. I haven't seen the sun since yesterday and the trees shake bony fingers at me as I watch the wind push their bare branches around. It's miserable, borderline depressing. Any day that makes you grateful for artificial lighting and an allergy-inducing heating system has to be miserable.
Now Tuesday, that was a fine night. The moon was full and high in the sky with a lovely ring decorating it as we walked out of the Smith Center, warmed by friends and a pretty great game. It was still cold, but it wasn't miserable. And of course, it helped that we won.
But you know, I'm not as upset about today's game as I could be. I mean, we're a young team and Kentucky's in the top 5 for a reason. Excuses aside (because we're not as bad as we played in the first half, as Roy said), I'm glad because it was just a 2-point loss. I'm glad because they fought back and they worked and even if they didn't get all the way there, they tried. The effort wasn't the best in the first half, but they came back from that. We didn't lose by 19. And that's my point.
Just in case you thought I was only going to talk about basketball, I'll throw in a little bit of a life lesson at the end, just to prove that I can tear myself away from our boys on the hardwood. Life can be compared to a lot of things, but my recent life was like that basketball game: it started out decent, fell completely to pieces while somebody beat me at my own game, and came back together towards the end. And, like my poor Heels, I just can't seem to win this game. No matter how I try, the attempts aren't falling the way they should and I walk away slightly dejected. But only slightly. Because I tried and because I learned. Because I fight and because I come back and because I'm not going to let this get me down forever. That makes the difference between losing and being a loser.
So, in a couple of games, if they still haven't figured out the whole turnover thing and the whole let's-make-a-gosh-durn-free-throw thing, I'm going to point back to what Roy said after the game: "This is North Carolina. We're supposed to come back. There are no moral victories in this." And there's not. But there's the chance to be better and there's the knowledge that they can come back. It's not a hopeless cause. And as everything reminds me that exams are around the corner, I need to know that life, even beyond exams, isn't a hopeless cause.
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Because My Blog was Feeling Lonely
I'm a terribly inconsistent blogger. If it makes you feel any better, you're mentioned in the novel I wrote this past month. I spoke to my dear readers quite often when I couldn't for the life of me think of anything else to say. You served to be my outlet of literary analysis. Unfortunately, I feel like all my intelligence went into writing this thing (which is hardly worth reading, much less printing, though if you want a laugh bad writing and a nonsensical story line you're welcome to it- I'll fix it up one day) and so my everyday thoughts were much stupider. Some of my favorites:
Where is my notebook?
I should really give up Facebook. Right about now. Nope, not happening.
I wonder if I could give up basketball for Lent. Hahahaha.
Why do I do my best writing between 11-2 at night/morning?
Why is my best writing so terrible?
No, seriously, where is my notebook? Ahhhhhhh....
Why do I consistently fail at English?
Why is occasionally so hard to spell?
Haha. Lettuce. Haha.
But seriously, lettuce? It doesn't even look like...
Notebook? Notebook notebook notebook?
Screw physics. I'm going to drop out of college and... well, drop out of college at any rate.
Also, screw boys. They're jerks.
PS- Love of my life, you're not a jerk. You're just very confusing. Please don't walk out of my life again. Love, Addie Jo.
I hate football. And bowl games. I hate the football team. Eff eff eff. Gee.. eye...
How do you say H phonetically? ache? ... incorrect.
Maybe I left my notebook in Phillips? In Hill? At the Planetarium?
How have I never seen a complete Bond movie?
Sometimes I think people just cut their hair for attention. But mine bounces now!
Taking apart your TV is fun!
Studying for exams is not!
I always feel so productive when I write out my schedule.
And now I don't, because I haven't done a thing on it.
Blogging isn't on my schedule. Maybe I should write that down.
How does your building not have a lost and found? I need my notebook!!!!
Also, snow? Haha snow. Snow and lettuce and icicles. And two cool points for those people who are laughing right now. And two innocent points for those of you not.
And, sadly, I probs won't be blogging much until... well, when life gets less busy. So we're shooting for late April. Don't hate me. I'll probably procrastinate, so that's four posts in the next two weeks alone. Bon courage, mes amis! The time is at hand! Happy Advent, kids!
A random sign from my first group of kids over the summer. Enjoy the random.
Where is my notebook?
I should really give up Facebook. Right about now. Nope, not happening.
I wonder if I could give up basketball for Lent. Hahahaha.
Why do I do my best writing between 11-2 at night/morning?
Why is my best writing so terrible?
No, seriously, where is my notebook? Ahhhhhhh....
Why do I consistently fail at English?
Why is occasionally so hard to spell?
Haha. Lettuce. Haha.
But seriously, lettuce? It doesn't even look like...
Notebook? Notebook notebook notebook?
Screw physics. I'm going to drop out of college and... well, drop out of college at any rate.
Also, screw boys. They're jerks.
PS- Love of my life, you're not a jerk. You're just very confusing. Please don't walk out of my life again. Love, Addie Jo.
I hate football. And bowl games. I hate the football team. Eff eff eff. Gee.. eye...
How do you say H phonetically? ache? ... incorrect.
Maybe I left my notebook in Phillips? In Hill? At the Planetarium?
How have I never seen a complete Bond movie?
Sometimes I think people just cut their hair for attention. But mine bounces now!
Taking apart your TV is fun!
Studying for exams is not!
I always feel so productive when I write out my schedule.
And now I don't, because I haven't done a thing on it.
Blogging isn't on my schedule. Maybe I should write that down.
How does your building not have a lost and found? I need my notebook!!!!
Also, snow? Haha snow. Snow and lettuce and icicles. And two cool points for those people who are laughing right now. And two innocent points for those of you not.
And, sadly, I probs won't be blogging much until... well, when life gets less busy. So we're shooting for late April. Don't hate me. I'll probably procrastinate, so that's four posts in the next two weeks alone. Bon courage, mes amis! The time is at hand! Happy Advent, kids!
A random sign from my first group of kids over the summer. Enjoy the random.
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