Do not be yolked. . .

So, this could totally be just me, but does anyone else ever feel like the people in your lives who really understand and enjoy you are not christian people?

I’ve recently joined two “book groups.” I mean, we do read books but one of the groups is more closely related to a gab session and the other doubles as a knitting group. All of the women are older and most of them are not christian, some to the point of being atheistic. But, you know what, they are nice. Really nice, kind people who listen to me and seem to understand a lot of what goes on in my life. They offer insight without being weird and they do not seem to be afraid to say things that are hard to hear. But they also don’t seem to be frought with condemnation for me for holding the “wrong” beliefs or having strong emotions about what goes on in my life.

now, don’t respond to this with “unbelievers can’t be trusted” or ” the advice they give is always wrong” or anything to convince me that this experience is wrong and unwise. I am a big girl (in more ways than one, Ha Ha) and I canmake some decisions on my own. I can sift good advice from worldly advice with the help of the word. and the advice is often contrary to what the word says. That’s ok. I can know that and takei t for what it is. But really the thing I love is that they can say those things, I can hear them and it doesn’t become a “holier-than-thou, white canvas shoe, just bear up under the pressure convention.”

Believe it or not, sometimes things get bad, despite (or perhaps because of ) Christ. The badness of things does not have to negate my belief in Christ or my hope for a relationship with Him. It really doesn’t. and I like that these ladies agree with me on that. Sometimes I think life is more complicated than we give it credit for. And simply too, in that, my history with christianity has not allowed for feeling yucky, but sometimes, people do.

What do you think?

intersections

So our comment count has almost caught up with our posting count. Just a bit of trivia.

I was just grading papers. Not really grading but reading and commenting. I don’t grade until they’ve had 2 or 3 chances at it. I’m tired of reading papers now. They are early and they are not so great. When my students comment or respond to prompts like, “next week you are going to teach the class. Tell me what you will keep and what you will change,” they are very interesting and candid. But when they respond to an assignment like, ” What is your core passion,” they are stilted and repetative. I guess it’s hard to think sometimes.

Anyway, Davin’s post about 9-11 didn’t get any response so I thought I’d throw my 2 cents in.

I was reading Plato (for school, clearly) and I had just gotten Lila to nap and off the phone with another mommy friend (Sarah Jackson, the greatest, she shook up the world, she shook up the world). Sarah called me back. I was a little annoyed because I had just told her that I needed to read this ultra boring book for class that night. But when she said, “We’re under attack,” I found that both hard to believe and alarming, becuase Sarah is not an alarmist.

I turned on the TV. And said, “come over. right now.” We hung up the phone, I think, because it rang again soon after. Kim Felcher was on the line. We were in awe and quiet desperation (the kids were still sleeping, mind). Have you ever been on the phone with someone and not talked but you cannot hang up. Finally, we decided on Lunch. If we have to be miserable, we’ll do it together, doggone it!

So the mommy’s came over and the kids played and slept and played and slept. We may have made a concession toward Sesame Street at some point but the news reigned the day. I don’t know if you can imagine having infant children, living 1/2 mile from an airport with phone lines jammed and husbands working and being alone. We could not imagine it. and so we did not endure it. The mommies were over for hours until we could go home and feel confident that we could do mom amidst this terror.

Sarah’s husband worked for the newspaper. I don’t know when he got home that night.

We have a collective history that, because of media most of the world shares. But the interesting point is where our individual history intersects with the collective. Believe it or not we are not all living the same life. Where were you?

Class of ’94

Wow. I just got home from my 10 year class reunion banquet. It’s 2:42 in the morning. We danced, drank a little, ate a lot, and had a really great time.

I am a little surprised.

I didn’t really expect it to be unfun, but I certainly didn’t expect it to be really fun. So everyone needs to go to theirs. High School is often called “the best years of your life” and other total ridiculous things. Really it’s often long, drawnout and sorta painful. Yuk.

But this thing is not high school. It is grown-ups talking about what moves them now and how they are trying hard to save their part of the world in their own special way. We had lots of entrepreneurs in our class and many, many teachers, some youth workers, a guy studying to be a rabbi, lots of married people and cute kids. it was really fun. So no interesting witticisms. Just wanted to share.

P.S. I had 4 drinks. Speak softly to me.

for those who don’t read the comments

The bible study. silly phrase. I think I may blog it. Getting together only every other week or so. We are all busy people. I’m gonna go ahead and start at the beginning. Genesis, that is. and Just look through for references to prayer or conversations with God and study them. I might use bible search engines on line and concordances. I don’t want to get bogged down in leviticus or the like. what do you think, folks? Interested?

katsup; ketchup; catsup; catch-up

So, here’s the skinny (isn’t that funny, coming from me)!

Classes have started at LCC. I teach Tue and Thurs. I’m not gonna tell you when or where. I know some of you can’t resist an opportunity to heckle.

Classes went well last week and I am really, really excited! I love teaching. So much. I should do it all the time.

anyway. Still working the other job. yep.

Watched the olympics. LOVE it. I am such a couch potato that I really get excited watching other people expend energy for my entertainment.

Looking for a small group. I would like to do an inductive study (whole bible) on prayer and a talking to God. Any takers? We thought about stopping in to the “Young Couples” meeting thing at Steve and Evie’s on Sunday but apparently, we are not young or a couple. . .wait.

Anyway, today is my birthday. John and Elizabeth got me a cake. Davin took me to lunch at Chang’s. YOU didn’t call me. It’s my birthday for, crying out loud!

Just kidding. Comment. I’m feeling a little out of the loop working so much.

Eh. . .What was that, sonny?

Sandy Clouthier asked me if I remembered what life was like before I had kids. I said no.

My kids are under 5. I really can’t remember. I think that I was about to become someone that I could like and be proud of. Someone who could earn a living and who could be witty and charming. Someone who was skinny (alright, skinnier) and who could cook great food and entertain. Someone who could go out to the bar after work and fly all over the country to conferences. Someone who could be intelligent and coherent when presenting; a world changing academic marvel.

And now I am. . .someone who changes poopy diapers in her lap. Someone who can actually remember the dosages for tylenol, ibuprophen, and robitussin for everyone under 200lbs. Someone who may dice your food for you before you eat. I may also offer you a hanky, say “you need to eat more,” and wonder why you don’t call more.

It’s an interesting change. I can dig it. Sometimes.

The best vitamin for a Christian

Can you guess what it is?

B1

I actually saw that on a church sign tonight.

I’ve got a confession to make. I am not a good Christian. And don’t worry. I’m not leading any small groups or mentoring anyone so the health and wellbeing of the flock should be secure.

But I did a little inventory today of what I believe. It was shocking and embarassing (two r’s or two s’s?). But I think it’s true.

I don’t believe in the whole concept of “Just keep praying, just keep praying, just keep praying, praying, praying.” Really I want someone to tell me what is prayer supposed to be like? Am I the only one who has ever questioned whether I’m talking to myself? And am I the only one who doesn’t have large swathes of time with which to “lay on my face” and wait for God to do something?
Joe Canvas Shoe Christian: you have to make time. You are not doing anything more important.

Right, not chasing the children or will work for food or on the rare occasion, sleeping to get up and do it all again.

Either way, my point is that I cannot in good conscience say that I believe that when someone says “I’ll pray for you” life’s gonna get any better.

Another point. I don’t think I do so well as a Christian wife. I can’t seem to get the balance of submission and death just right. working on it, though.

It’s kind of liberating to take off my white canvas shoes for a moment.

sometimes God sucks. and if that makes me a petulant little child, so be it.