Thursday, 08 March 2012

  • Couldn't Put Humpty Together Again

    There's this new food site that I'm totally hooked on. It's called foodgawker. I spent a lot of time the other day looking at all the things I want to make and think about putting it on pinterest. (If you don't know what pinterest is, you probably: a. live under a rock b. think ponies are ugly or c. pee standing up.) It makes me sad because I want to experiment with so much cooking but I don't have time and when I do, I don't have the ingredients (some of them require fresh produce which does not stand a chance with my schedule.) 

    I got myself a planter so I can grow my own basil and cilantro. I love basil and I love cilantro. This is a special self-watering planter so I don't have to worry about leaving my little living things since I tend to be away for more than a week every once in a while. 

    Cooking is just one more things I can't do. It seems my schedule bars me from doing many things which I think will make me a freer person. 

    This however, is an illusion. I know it, because when I do have time, I'm not always cooking or using it efficiently. 

    In my last post, I talked about rising up to meet standards. 

    This is noble, and I love it, and I think it should be done, but it can give rise to some incredibly big issues. The issue is that sometimes, there is so much to do, and so much to desire to do, that the task becomes too great. And all those built-up good intentions fall to the ground and no one (not even all the King's men) can put it together again. 

    And I get that way sometimes. I run and run and everything is great (runner's high!), and then suddenly--it's like a leg cramp or something--I double over and fall to the ground. And I lie there and moan and think about how difficult everything is. How every time I climb the mountain, there's another one. And how this road is so difficult, and alienating, and blah, blah, blah...

    I don't think this is what God intended to happen. 

    Reflecting on the Sermon on the Mount is always interesting to me. Just when I think Jesus is on my side, saying, "Yes, you can do all things..." and that such things like discipline and surrender and sacrifice are all within my grasp, I remember this sermon, and in particular, the part where Jesus says,  "You have heard that it was said to people long ago, 'You shall not murder, and anyone who murders will be subject to judgment."

    Me: Yeah. I can do that. No murdering. That's not a big deal. 

    "..but I tell you that anyone who is angry with a brother or a sister will be subject to judgment."

    This snaps me back into focus. Jesus continues to elevate the law to a degree which seems almost ridiculously unattainable. 

    Except with a change of heart. 

    Except with a change of mind. 

    Except with a total collapse at His feet in acknowledgement that we can't do this on our own. 

    I know there are you control freaks out there who think you can manage life (and spirituality) by careful monitoring of variables and daily activities. Where the straight-and-narrow can be measured out with a ruler and some really strong brick. Or others who think Jesus surely must be using hyperbole. When He says angry, He just means... you know. Killing. 

    What bars us from freedom and attaining to high spiritual goals isn't a lack of personality, or willpower, or because Jesus doesn't love us quite as much. It's usually an illusion. An illusion that we are clinging to God, because in reality, we are self-sufficient and totally unwilling to let go of the world. It's because of want. 

    And what can change want?

    What can give us a change of heart, and mind, and soul?

    I'll let you answer that. Today, the thought of froyo is keeping me alive, once again. 

    I do, however, believe in character growth, discipline, and steadfastness. But all with an understanding that our foundation is Christ, and that we can achieve nothing outside of Him. This stuff is made of supernatural material. 

     

     

     

Tuesday, 06 March 2012

  • God is Not a Passive-Aggressive Lover

    OK, fine, that was an odd title for a post. But you know, your face is odd, and I don't bring that up (too many times) do I?

    Disclaimer: I'm on a thin string. 

    So yes. Insanity is ensuing. Usually, the kids start getting antsy at 3.5 weeks. Teachers start losing it at 4 weeks. It is currently 5.5 weeks into a no-break stretch and we've got 1 whole week left to go. Things are looking pretty hairy here in the Valley. At least I can count on blue skies and a desk next to a wall-length window. That is nice. I also have my "Work Music" playlist going in the background now. That is usually a Last Resort. It's working. There's not too much the gang of Handel, Holst, Vivaldi, and Satie can't handle. Throw in some Beethoven, Puccini and a dash of Dvorak and Warlock and you've got a winner. I'm tempted to put giant headphones on my head, lock the doors, shut off the lights, and glare at people who knock. 

    So it seems to me that God takes advantage of times when I am already down to make me do things that I think are pretty mean. The only reason I don't consider it being like someone shining a magnifying glass at an ant's back leg and laughing when it runs around is because... well, because I love Him and I know He's not like that. 

    But sometimes...

    Take the Holy Spirit. I mean, I think He's swell and all, but sometimes I wish He'd leave me alone. Let me indulge in peace. Recently, He's informed me that maybe I should stop liking Jason Statham (I like him for his talent, ok?!) so much, especially since his movies feature blah blah blah blah blahblahblah blah that isn't too edifying or even decent. (See, I edited out that whole section for you discretionary readers.) 

    And when things like that happen, a series of things happen pretty consistently. This is how I respond:
    (a) I say, "OK. I guess it doesn't mean that much to me. Sure."
    (b) I proceed to think about life without x, y, z. It's not that bad. In fact, maybe it's better.
    (c) I think, "Wait a minute. Aren't I being legalistic here? Can I really do this myself? Isn't this setting myself up for disaster? Hasn't this happened before? I mean, can't I exercise moderation?" 
    (d) I get upset. Why does Jesus want to ruin my life?
    (e) I "scripture-nuke" myself and say, Is not life more than food/movies/whatever? What worth is it if you gain the whole world...
    (d) I get upset again. Because it seems like Jesus is saying, "Don't you love me? I mean, you don't have to, but if you loved me, you would."
    (e) I say, "Of course I love you."
    (f) I remember that Jesus is not a passive-aggressive lover.
    (g) I heave a big sigh, feel the burden lift off, and laugh at my foolishness, and remember who Jesus really is. 
                   (i)  the One who saved me from myself countless times.
                   (ii) the One who loves little babies.
                   (iii) the One who had a real smile and a real hug.
                   (iv) the One who literally saved me from crashing and burning. 
                   (iii) the One who knows every bit of my soul and loved me and died for me anyway.
    (h) I say goodbye to Jason Statham. (Hehe. Or whatever else it might be.)

    If I learned anything from my experiences in life the past few months, it's that I am very stubborn, very rebellious, very skeptical of love, and a host of other things I'd rather not bare to the world right now. 

    Anyway. Whatever the case is, there is nothing too precious to me above my love for God. I want to lose more and more of the ties that binds me to the things of this world. At this point, He's got me wrapped up, bound up, and intertwined. Without Him, I am nothing.  

    Back to ze work!

     

Thursday, 16 February 2012

  • Can't Buy Me Love (or Sanity)

    It was Valentine's Day a few days ago and it went by neglected on this blog. Many things have been neglected in my life. And many things have had much attention. These are all things that I attach a very neutral value to. As long as I'm learning, I'm happy. 

    I had the opportunity to call the women I love most in the world this past Tuesday: my mother and my sister. Of all the people in the world, I believe that these two are the ones that influenced me and shaped me the most. I see their example and their guidance in the way I think and approach the world, in my treatment of others, and in the inner workings of my heart. Other than the other-worldly Jesus, the Love of my life, the (often rough) tutelage I received under these women made me who I am now.

    Although... I'm pretty sure the martyr spirit in me that wants to champion the undertrodden and fight for the neglected... I'm pretty sure that one came from my dad. At least the martyr part. It's a dangerous part of me but it's the part that got me where I am now professionally and perhaps even spiritually. 

    Anyway, I called them because I love having excuses to tell people I love and appreciate them. Even better are times that are completely spontaneous. Who needs another commercially-driven holiday to be cookie-cutter robotic lovers? Not me. But I'll take my chocolate and often self-bought flowers, thank you very much.

    Speaking of chocolate and flowers.... I read these articles recently in The Atlantic about the flower industry and how there's a 1 in 12 chance that the flowers in shops were cut by child laborers. 90% of flowers sold were imported from Ecuador or Columbia. Granted, not all of these flowers are cut by poor little children, but the adult laborers aren't exactly getting health insurance either. That got me mad. First of all, that we spend 1.7 billion dollars towards one day for things that will wilt away after a few days, and second, that I can't do much about it. What will I do, boycott flowers like I'm boycotting Walmart? Sure, Walmart won't crumble because they're losing my monthly grocery bill to Martin's, but it's the principle of the thing. I hate that I live in a world that is so driven by commercial demand. Making sure I make my flowers last the longest (drying/cutting) is small consolation.  

    And now on to chocolate! Same deal. Africa produces 70% of the world's cocoa, most of it with cheap labor. The article is interesting, but my point is this: life is difficult for my spirit. I want to at once champion the causes of all the downtrodden in this world, and at the same time, a voice in my head reasonably tells me that (a) I am hopelessly Western-minded and (b) I won't make a dent. (Unfortunately, the second point never stops me from doing anything. Note Walmart example.)

    So what now? Shall I stop buying flowers and quit my chocolate cravings? Shall I picket in front of flower stands in supermarkets and hand out fliers about child laborers? Believe me, part of me wants to. But you know what moderates me? Television. OK, better put, education. Explanation: when I was much younger (I believe I was in high school), I watched this series on this news program. Every day they explored some facet of food. The first day was about how meat packing was gross and how the processing and handling of meat in markets and even in restaurants were appalling. OK. I can stop eating meat. The next day was about eating out. Even top-tier restaurants are gross. OK. I can stop eating out, my adolescent mind reasoned. The next day was about vegetables sold in supermarkets. I was starting to get uncomfortable. OK, I can grow my own stuff. The next day was about soil conditions and water quality that would impact gardens. I was close to deciding not to eat anything at all for the rest of my life. 

    I believe there are things that can be done to better our lives and better the lives of others. I believe that we are compelled to do this, especially as Christians who claim to follow Christ and have been created in His image. I believe that we ought to do our best to be engaged in service and social justice. I want to support causes and do my best to protect humanity. I don't think that it looks like simple boycotting. Because as much as my withdrawal of support of Walmart draws questions and teaching opportunities, it doesn't change lives. And that's what I want. I want to change lives. I want to change the world.

    I don't know how I got here from a Valentine's Day post. I don't know how I'll change the world. But I believe education has a lot to do with it. And I don't care where I am, or how I'm doing it, but I want to do what I am doing with joy and fervor. Because God is my Employer (whew. And my teacher. Boy do I remember the lessons I learned during that time.) Because He is enough for me (I lectured my girls on this on Valentine's Day. "Don't get into a relationship unless God is enough for you first!") Because God's vision is different from my vision, and I trust Him. He never did me harm. He always sustained me. He always fulfilled me. He always gave me what I needed.

    I trust that will never change. Because He never changes. Because His love for me was the only constant in my life, even while my moods and inclinations and heart changed.   

    So today, I am grateful for God. My bedrock. My strong tower. My fortress. Today is a Psalm 91 day. (The link jumps to the Message/New American Standard parallel. My dad made us all memorize this when I was a kid. It'll take a little relearning.)

    Here's to God being enough, and here's to all the other beautiful loves in life. 

     

Thursday, 05 January 2012

  • Hello 2012 (An Open Letter)

    Dear 2012, 

    I keep hitting "2010" when I try to type your name, but please don't be offended. By now, you should know that I'm bad with names, and you should also know that I'll probably forget yours until March. OK fine, maybe even June. Also, I know it’s a few days in, but I’m not one to be overly sentimental about dates and such.  

    Your predecessor, 2011, left some marks on me. It was somewhat of a struggle. But on my way down from New York, where I had gone to visit my parents, I heard something interesting on the radio. It brought back a flood of memories and ideas on not only how I want to approach you, but how I want to remember what has passed. 

    The program was about happiness, and the attainment of it. It was a comprised of a multifaith panel of four people: the Dalai Lama (the 14th), the presiding bishop of the Episcopal Church in the US (Dr. Katherine Schori), Chief Rabbi of Great Britain (Lord Jonathan Sacks), and an eminent Muslim scholar (Dr. Seyyed Nasr).

    Some ideas they brought out targeted the response to suffering and tragedy. I appreciated the words of the Dalai Lama: “..when we face some sort of sad thing, if you look very closely and it looks unbearable, [sic] look from distance. There’s not that much that’s unbearable.”

    And then Rabbi Sacks: “The definition of a Jew, Israel, is as it says in Genesis 34, one who struggles, wrestles, with God and with humanity and prevails. And Jacob says something very profound to the Angel. He says, “I will not let you go until you bless me.” And that is how I feel about suffering. When something bad happens, I will not let go of that bad thing until I have discovered the blessing that lies within it.”

    This reminds me of a discipline I used to have. A phrase I used to moderate myself. I called it “embracing my suffering.” I distinctly remember teaching myself what it meant to “press against the blade.” Because I believed that it was this blade that would cut away at all the ugliness inside. I became comfortable addressing my faults and allowing God to iron them out. Trials and even grumpiness was welcomed as a means to find the roots and tease them out. Perhaps I’ve lost that view for a while.

    So, 2012, I will come at you with the burdens I’ve embraced from 2011. From letting the trials and thrills of the past year help me to approach you a better, more renewed person. I will not let 2011 go without a blessing.

    I also want to remind myself that there is nothing that cannot be overcome. No fault in character that cannot be laid at the feet of Jesus and eradicated. No trial that is too large. Nothing so precious as not to give in service and love to God and the dreams He has given me. That whatever comes my way from you, I will not approach with sullenness or discontent, but with a willing heart. I want to remember what it is to grow in grace.

    I named your predecessor “The Year of Yes.” I lost that concept about midway through, but it turns out that it was aptly named. It was meant to be a year of saying "yes" to calls of ministry. But it was that and much more. I found myself saying “yes” to letting God share my fries. I said “yes” to the question of if I would be ok with the fact that some questions may never be answered in this lifetime. I said “yes” to risks and leaps of faith and love.

    I will not name you. No, you will not be the Year of Pressing Into the Blade. I will allow you to be free to do the work you will do in my life without a lens through which I will be observing it. But in my heart, I want you to see me in a closer walk with the One I love most. I want you to see me in closer and deeper devotion to Him and His work. I want you to see me loving without dissimulation and discretion, without respect of status, history, or even character. I want you to see me pursuing knowledge and faith, and deepening in my devotions to God and to the ones I love. 

    A friend of mine wrote about how resolutions should be reaffirmations of our priorities. The preceding is a reaffirmation of my priorities. I want to remember them. 

    Thanks for an excuse to wax eloquent and a chance to make changes.

    Love,
    One Cow on One of the Thousand Hills 

    [Comments disabled. Please comment on post below or message if you have something to say to me. Should you have an addendum that you would like to address to 2012, do it on your own blog. :) ]

On A Thousand Hills


My father chose my name before I was even born. He scribbled it in the margins of his notebook when he was in High School, and I imagine him chuckling because in our culture, as much as it's deeper meaning has a Socratic "knowing" reference, it can also mean 'little cow.'

I have learned to love my name and have grown to love my God.

I am His little cow on a thousand hills. No matter the hill on which He finds me, I will be His. And so I strive for consistency in my faith and in my pursuit of truth on this Great Road Home.

This is a document of this process. This is a document of a walk with my God and yours.

I am also currently undercover. Don't ask too many questions, although I just might answer them.