Today I woke up in a funk. You know, the days when you feel like you've been nice for long enough and the things you tend to put up with and think, well that's just how it is, become intensely annoying and you don't feel like faking it anymore. Yep, that was today. But I got up and headed off the Starbucks with Bible and journal in tow to continue my reading of 1 Corinthians. I started reading 1 Corinthians because my pastor said it would be a good idea. It was. But today I was in 1 Corinthians 13, you know, the famous chapter about love. Needless to say, I was not in the mood. I wanted to have love and for the words Paul wrote a long time ago to sink into my soul. But my funk persisted and I couldn't get into it.
I went to church and heard a good message that was about peace and the joy of the Lord, and I asked God to give that peace and joy to me. It didn't come right away. The funk persisted through lunch and I decided to go home because I would only be a detriment to others in this state. So I came home, put on my pajamas and hopped under my comforter with Blue Like Jazz.
I've been working through Donald Miller's Blue Like Jazz since about June of 2009, reading bits in spurts, trying to process through it and read it with a more critical eye than I did in high school when I thought it was extremely poignant. Truth is, it's not too much that's new, but Don Miller presents it like a real person. That's what makes it good.
Anyway, I picked it up today and read his two chapters on Love. I think they're the best in the book, especially the one about loving others. In the book, Don (I call him Don because he's a person and I think if we met, we'd be on a first name basis) talks about how discourse on love is rife with economic metaphor; we value people, we invest in people, some relationships are bankrupt. In short, we treat love like money, giving it to those we support or approve of and withholding it from those we don't like. It's funny, because I was just journaling about interfaith groups and how I feel that if I participated in one, I'd be supporting something I didn't believe in. I'd be giving my time and energy to something and thus validating it.
But love is not money.
God does not withhold love to teach lessons or to support something that falls into strict boundaries. God lavishes love on us. Knowing this, that I use love like money and that it's not ok, has freed me, just like it did for Don. I want to replace my economic metaphor with a magnet metaphor. A magnet just sits where it is placed and attracts things, because of the natural force it puts out. (Ok, I'm not a scientist, I don't really know how magnets work except on a basic level, so if this is off, just look at it metaphorically like I am.) And magnets draw things from somewhere else. Well, I want God's love to pour out of me like a force in a magnet, so people are drawn from the mire toward healing. I want the freedom to treat anyone and everyone like they're my best friend. I don't want to withhold love anymore in hopes of changing something about someone. See, it's not my responsibility to change people. God takes care of that. It's my responsibility to express love and approval, a love that brings people out of the mire toward and into healing--just like God did and is doing in me.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Thursday, February 11, 2010
the fateful non-blizzard of 2010 and riding on the bus
Thanks to all of you who were so concerned for my safety and well-being yesterday for what seems like every news station on the planet was forecasting as one nasty blizzard. Well, here's the real story, no thanks to our meteorologist friends. Well, first, the night before...
I was exhausted, so I took a nap, setting my alarm for 6:30. I woke up at 8:10 (oops) and proceeded to freak out about missing my alarm and being late for my 8:00am class, rushed to the window because it was oddly dark outside and looked frantically for snow. There was none, which meant class wasn't cancelled. As I began to grab my towels to go take a shower, my mind caught itself and I realized it was 8:10pm. What a ding-dong I am...
Now, for the real deal. The morning began calmly, with a few gently snowflakes falling as I walked into my class. Then about midway, the snow started falling more rapidly and at an angle. I thought to myself, Here we go. But by the end of my class, 11am, the angled flurry had come to an end, and the ground had nothing to show for it. Long story short, the school closed at 2pm for my first snow day! But, the snow never really came. Sure, it was windy and the snow was definitely horizontal, but it was light. We got like 3 inches max. So much for my blizzard.
Other than that, I have found riding the bus to lend me some of my most interesting observations. It is a time when I am all alone and yet surrounded by the steady drum of varied life that this city offers. Just this night, coming home from an evening at MIT, I witnessed several intriguing characters. One man, nearing his fifties, sported a bumblebee-striped beanie, black flooded slacks and the oldest pair of red hightop converse that I've seen in awhile. They were more of a brownish-red than the bright red you see in stores today. Anyway, he lept down the stairs to exit the bus as if he were 13 years old again. It brought a smile to my face.
Then there was a young man who seemed like a character out of a movie. Overly confident, saw a couple of guys he knew with an attractive young lady, who appeared as though she'd just lost her title as certified jail-bait, and proceeded to flirt, relentlessly. Offering her his gloves after he shook her hand, then telling her how fly fishing was an art, not a sport, but required beer nonetheless. When the girl had to get off the bus, he gave her a wink and an "I hope I see you again," with a laugh and a smile as he watched her walk down the street. When he reached his stop, he bounded out the bus, sprinted across the street and hurried down the road to a nearby bar.
My favorite today was the most tired looking man. He was worn out from head to toe, clad in sweats and a flannel shirt. He was carrying two pink roses from CVS. Call me a sap, but I thought it was the sweetest thing. I hope one day I have a guy, who after a long day at work, goes out of his way and stops by somewhere to pick up something of beauty for me.
I know, I'm sentimental. I'm a romantic. I'm coping with it.
Maybe these bus characters are not of interest to you, but in them I see light and life and at the very least, entertainment. Do enjoy. I bid you adieu.
I was exhausted, so I took a nap, setting my alarm for 6:30. I woke up at 8:10 (oops) and proceeded to freak out about missing my alarm and being late for my 8:00am class, rushed to the window because it was oddly dark outside and looked frantically for snow. There was none, which meant class wasn't cancelled. As I began to grab my towels to go take a shower, my mind caught itself and I realized it was 8:10pm. What a ding-dong I am...
Now, for the real deal. The morning began calmly, with a few gently snowflakes falling as I walked into my class. Then about midway, the snow started falling more rapidly and at an angle. I thought to myself, Here we go. But by the end of my class, 11am, the angled flurry had come to an end, and the ground had nothing to show for it. Long story short, the school closed at 2pm for my first snow day! But, the snow never really came. Sure, it was windy and the snow was definitely horizontal, but it was light. We got like 3 inches max. So much for my blizzard.
Other than that, I have found riding the bus to lend me some of my most interesting observations. It is a time when I am all alone and yet surrounded by the steady drum of varied life that this city offers. Just this night, coming home from an evening at MIT, I witnessed several intriguing characters. One man, nearing his fifties, sported a bumblebee-striped beanie, black flooded slacks and the oldest pair of red hightop converse that I've seen in awhile. They were more of a brownish-red than the bright red you see in stores today. Anyway, he lept down the stairs to exit the bus as if he were 13 years old again. It brought a smile to my face.
Then there was a young man who seemed like a character out of a movie. Overly confident, saw a couple of guys he knew with an attractive young lady, who appeared as though she'd just lost her title as certified jail-bait, and proceeded to flirt, relentlessly. Offering her his gloves after he shook her hand, then telling her how fly fishing was an art, not a sport, but required beer nonetheless. When the girl had to get off the bus, he gave her a wink and an "I hope I see you again," with a laugh and a smile as he watched her walk down the street. When he reached his stop, he bounded out the bus, sprinted across the street and hurried down the road to a nearby bar.
My favorite today was the most tired looking man. He was worn out from head to toe, clad in sweats and a flannel shirt. He was carrying two pink roses from CVS. Call me a sap, but I thought it was the sweetest thing. I hope one day I have a guy, who after a long day at work, goes out of his way and stops by somewhere to pick up something of beauty for me.
I know, I'm sentimental. I'm a romantic. I'm coping with it.
Maybe these bus characters are not of interest to you, but in them I see light and life and at the very least, entertainment. Do enjoy. I bid you adieu.
Monday, February 8, 2010
hello world
I know I've been absent for far too long. What can I say? Sometimes the actual living of life (rather than the reflecting on it) gets the best of me. I think almost every day about writing, but I rarely think its worth sharing with others, my small, silly thoughts. So I hoard them in nifty journals and enjoy the moments of truth and love and peace that God gives me on my own. Alas, why have a blog if I don't even share my life? Silly me. Well, hopefully that will change in the new year.
One of these things that I've been hoarding to myself is how much I love God and how much God is changing me and how He is moving in this city. That's right: I'm coming out of the closet. I love Jesus and there's no stopping it. Recently, God has been showing me that I've over-intellectualized His word, and by doing that I've successfully fallen out of love with Him. But you know what He did, He romanced me and I fell in love again. Head over heels, people. It is good to find rest in God's word, rather than perceptions of failure. Grace, grace, grace.
Also, I'm feeling way better about being in the city. It is where I'm supposed to be. I have surrendered to it. I have surrendered my locality in this world to God, and He's got me here for good reason. Here is one of them: my new friend Renee is beginning an intentional community in the southern edge of Boston called C.R.E.A.T.E. (Christian Relationships Enabling A Transformative Environment). In this part of Boston, over 25% of the population falls below the poverty line. Thousands of students fill the city each year to attend some of the most elite colleges, and yet in this part of the city, only half of the children graduate from high school and fewer than 10% go to college. Crazy, right?! So, she's buying a house and inviting some students to live there, to love people and provide needed things and to hopefully share the love and light of Christ. I'm praying about joining them right now. I'm feeling pretty good about it, but it's scary to let go of comfort, of my own room, of my own schedule. I realized I probably sound pretty selfish after that statement. I'm praying that God would take away my selfishness and bring me confidence in where I live next year, wherever that is.
Oh! And this past weekend I spent at a monastery in Cambridge. It was wonderful! Single room, endless amounts of tea, reading my school books (not as cool) and Persuasion (very cool). Reading Persuasion is such a wintry thing for me, and it really came to life in the silence of the monastery. Alas, sometimes I long for the chaste courting of early 19th century England...
I apologize that this lacks my typical diction. Fare the well, world, til the next installment.
One of these things that I've been hoarding to myself is how much I love God and how much God is changing me and how He is moving in this city. That's right: I'm coming out of the closet. I love Jesus and there's no stopping it. Recently, God has been showing me that I've over-intellectualized His word, and by doing that I've successfully fallen out of love with Him. But you know what He did, He romanced me and I fell in love again. Head over heels, people. It is good to find rest in God's word, rather than perceptions of failure. Grace, grace, grace.
Also, I'm feeling way better about being in the city. It is where I'm supposed to be. I have surrendered to it. I have surrendered my locality in this world to God, and He's got me here for good reason. Here is one of them: my new friend Renee is beginning an intentional community in the southern edge of Boston called C.R.E.A.T.E. (Christian Relationships Enabling A Transformative Environment). In this part of Boston, over 25% of the population falls below the poverty line. Thousands of students fill the city each year to attend some of the most elite colleges, and yet in this part of the city, only half of the children graduate from high school and fewer than 10% go to college. Crazy, right?! So, she's buying a house and inviting some students to live there, to love people and provide needed things and to hopefully share the love and light of Christ. I'm praying about joining them right now. I'm feeling pretty good about it, but it's scary to let go of comfort, of my own room, of my own schedule. I realized I probably sound pretty selfish after that statement. I'm praying that God would take away my selfishness and bring me confidence in where I live next year, wherever that is.
Oh! And this past weekend I spent at a monastery in Cambridge. It was wonderful! Single room, endless amounts of tea, reading my school books (not as cool) and Persuasion (very cool). Reading Persuasion is such a wintry thing for me, and it really came to life in the silence of the monastery. Alas, sometimes I long for the chaste courting of early 19th century England...
I apologize that this lacks my typical diction. Fare the well, world, til the next installment.
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