A while back I went on a bit of a flu-induced rant, wondering where the "stories" were of living out our faith, the good and the bad, the messy bits and the awesome bits - instead of just arguing Emerging vs. Institutional. And I've found some!
So for your reading pleasure, for your inspiration and feel-good God-glow of the day, I present a few of the stories! (Note, links don't open in a new window)
* Other End Up - when life seems to make sense
* Jamie's Friendship
* Clarence's miracle
* Dead Youthpastor Walking - Camp
* Roger's "Real" Church
* Osray's Brother Taylor, Church on Fire, Pastor Myrtle Beal, and most of his archives! :)
* Rachelle's sermon: Part 1, Part 2
* Ragamuffin Diva - Faithfulness (awesome heart-writings all over her blog!)
* Real Live Preacher - I Remember When Amy and many, many other posts
* Soulgarderners - A Crappy Day for a Church Planter
* Tall Skinny Kiwi - Gutter Punk
* Wayne's Blog - "That Lot" in Fairlie
There are many more stories that I've missed out on I'm sure - if you know of one, leave a link in the comments.
The End of Winter is Nigh!
Today is (officially) the last day of winter! Not that we've had much of one, bar the few weeks it rained very hard. We have yet to see snow on the mountains, or receive our full winter's quotient of rain - as a result it's likely we'll have water restrictions by December.
But Spring is nearly here! I wonder if I should dress up in daisies to celebrate, or dance under the almost-full moon. Maybe walk barefoot through morning dew or spend an entire day eating strawberries. It's gotta be celebrated!
But Spring is nearly here! I wonder if I should dress up in daisies to celebrate, or dance under the almost-full moon. Maybe walk barefoot through morning dew or spend an entire day eating strawberries. It's gotta be celebrated!
Real
I indulged and bought a block of Real Butter this weekend. Usually we stick to the cheaper margarine blocks (which are used for both cooking and spreading), but I had this sudden urge for the Real Stuff.
So yesterday I took a sliver and mixed up a bit of garlic butter to go on fresh-from-the-grill homemade bread. HEAVEN! My son had the leftovers for supper and I heard him exclaiming his delight as he munched his way through the last few bits.
It's been a very long time since we had real butter on anything. A year ago I bought a block to make one of those chocolate cakes that consist of butter, melted dark choc and not much else. I used the small bit of butter left over for a batch of muffins. I couldn't believe the taste difference!
After using the "plastic" margarine for so long, it's easy to forget what the real stuff tastes like. It's easy to get used to the stick-on-your-gums fattiness of hydrogenated vegetable (and other dodgy) oils, and not realize what you're missing out on. And it's easy to go for cheap over great when trying to stay within a budget.
I've been margarine for a while - not the real me, not true to myself and not leaving a good taste with those I come into contact with. I want to be Butter. I want to live authentically and be the me that's too often trapped inside. I want to melt with warmth and love as easily as butter on hot fresh bread. I want to be the kind of person others enjoy, relish being with.
Just this weekend I was thinking back to high school, to my first boyfriend and the other guy who beat him up over me. And wondered what happened to the girl that guys would fight for. She seems to have disappeared - she's turned into a bland version of what society expects a single mother to be. But then again, I don't know any guys who would fight for a girl these days either, so maybe it's not all "me".
Making butter takes hard work. I once did it for a living, along with cheese production. Besides milking a cow and seperating off the cream, that cream has to be churned for quite a while at the right temperature, washed and salted and moulded until it's just right - or it will end up as junk.
Making the real me appear again is going to take hard work too. I need to seperate out the rubbish that's taken over, that's got me living a surface life and merely existing. I need tempering and washing and compacting into something worth having. I've got to make a couple of very hard decisions on a daily basis instead of taking the easy drifty way out. I want to be someone worth fighting for again.
The thing is, I've been this margarine me for a very long time. It's the me everyone thinks they know. They don't suspect what's hidden beneath, though little bits of it sometimes surfaces. It may surprise my family and friends to see what's in there, what I'm really made of. If I get it right to be Real, I don't know what reaction I'll get. But I'm really tired of just plodding through life, living the things everyone expects from me, the things I've let myself believe I am. The things I really am not.
As I savour that block of Reality in my fridge, I'm going to be picking through the Artificial to see if there's anything left of who I really am. Bit by bit, I'm going to seperate it out and grow it until the outside of me matches the Real inside.
(But first I'm going to get some sleep - staying up late to watch the Olympics close is not helpful to reality-checks)
::update::
So I decided, after the above, to go write out what the Real Me is all about, just so I'd know. After 2 pages of frantic typing, this is how it ended:
"And none of this is the real me. It’s either fantasy, or layers. I don’t know the real me."
Great. Seems I've been margarine for so long that there's not even a buttery flavour left! Perhaps all I really am is just this, the me I wish were different, but is never going to change anyway, so I may as well just make the best of it. oh well...
So yesterday I took a sliver and mixed up a bit of garlic butter to go on fresh-from-the-grill homemade bread. HEAVEN! My son had the leftovers for supper and I heard him exclaiming his delight as he munched his way through the last few bits.
It's been a very long time since we had real butter on anything. A year ago I bought a block to make one of those chocolate cakes that consist of butter, melted dark choc and not much else. I used the small bit of butter left over for a batch of muffins. I couldn't believe the taste difference!
After using the "plastic" margarine for so long, it's easy to forget what the real stuff tastes like. It's easy to get used to the stick-on-your-gums fattiness of hydrogenated vegetable (and other dodgy) oils, and not realize what you're missing out on. And it's easy to go for cheap over great when trying to stay within a budget.
I've been margarine for a while - not the real me, not true to myself and not leaving a good taste with those I come into contact with. I want to be Butter. I want to live authentically and be the me that's too often trapped inside. I want to melt with warmth and love as easily as butter on hot fresh bread. I want to be the kind of person others enjoy, relish being with.
Just this weekend I was thinking back to high school, to my first boyfriend and the other guy who beat him up over me. And wondered what happened to the girl that guys would fight for. She seems to have disappeared - she's turned into a bland version of what society expects a single mother to be. But then again, I don't know any guys who would fight for a girl these days either, so maybe it's not all "me".
Making butter takes hard work. I once did it for a living, along with cheese production. Besides milking a cow and seperating off the cream, that cream has to be churned for quite a while at the right temperature, washed and salted and moulded until it's just right - or it will end up as junk.
Making the real me appear again is going to take hard work too. I need to seperate out the rubbish that's taken over, that's got me living a surface life and merely existing. I need tempering and washing and compacting into something worth having. I've got to make a couple of very hard decisions on a daily basis instead of taking the easy drifty way out. I want to be someone worth fighting for again.
The thing is, I've been this margarine me for a very long time. It's the me everyone thinks they know. They don't suspect what's hidden beneath, though little bits of it sometimes surfaces. It may surprise my family and friends to see what's in there, what I'm really made of. If I get it right to be Real, I don't know what reaction I'll get. But I'm really tired of just plodding through life, living the things everyone expects from me, the things I've let myself believe I am. The things I really am not.
As I savour that block of Reality in my fridge, I'm going to be picking through the Artificial to see if there's anything left of who I really am. Bit by bit, I'm going to seperate it out and grow it until the outside of me matches the Real inside.
(But first I'm going to get some sleep - staying up late to watch the Olympics close is not helpful to reality-checks)
::update::
So I decided, after the above, to go write out what the Real Me is all about, just so I'd know. After 2 pages of frantic typing, this is how it ended:
"And none of this is the real me. It’s either fantasy, or layers. I don’t know the real me."
Great. Seems I've been margarine for so long that there's not even a buttery flavour left! Perhaps all I really am is just this, the me I wish were different, but is never going to change anyway, so I may as well just make the best of it. oh well...
We need to get out more...
My son and I spend WAY too much time alone at home. It's become very evident lately in the things we crack up laughing over. Like these Olympic moments:
* Women's race, introduction of the participants, including one Mexican lady who turned to the crowd and did.... a Mexican wave! (groan)
* Men's diving, 10m platform. Australian speedo's have "Australia" on the back, and a vertical "AUS" on the front. We wonder why "AUS" isn't on the back of the speedo. (if you don't get it, don't worry, you probably shouldn't anyway...)
We also haven't been "sociable" in a very long time. We haven't had visitors over (except the crowd of kids who turned up to toast/burn marshmallows yesterday) in months, we haven't gone out to movies or events, and no-one stops by unannounced anymore.
I'm starting to feel the isolation. It's probably my fault that we're not in the middle of a huge social circle. I tend to be a bit of a loner, and when you have to deal with people all day, every day, weekends are the only time to flee into solitude. It doesn't help our social matters that I'm not involved in a church at the moment - and haven't really been involved in anything non-church either. Nor does it help living on a church-owned campus, where being the odd one out leads to being left out.
I've forgotten how to make friends. I've forgotten how to be a friend. I've never been part of the cliques, always been one of the outsider weirdo's, the arty-fartys. I need to learn from scratch what it's like to be present in society, to be connected widely and happily with many, many people.
And we definitely need to get out more! :)
* Women's race, introduction of the participants, including one Mexican lady who turned to the crowd and did.... a Mexican wave! (groan)
* Men's diving, 10m platform. Australian speedo's have "Australia" on the back, and a vertical "AUS" on the front. We wonder why "AUS" isn't on the back of the speedo. (if you don't get it, don't worry, you probably shouldn't anyway...)
We also haven't been "sociable" in a very long time. We haven't had visitors over (except the crowd of kids who turned up to toast/burn marshmallows yesterday) in months, we haven't gone out to movies or events, and no-one stops by unannounced anymore.
I'm starting to feel the isolation. It's probably my fault that we're not in the middle of a huge social circle. I tend to be a bit of a loner, and when you have to deal with people all day, every day, weekends are the only time to flee into solitude. It doesn't help our social matters that I'm not involved in a church at the moment - and haven't really been involved in anything non-church either. Nor does it help living on a church-owned campus, where being the odd one out leads to being left out.
I've forgotten how to make friends. I've forgotten how to be a friend. I've never been part of the cliques, always been one of the outsider weirdo's, the arty-fartys. I need to learn from scratch what it's like to be present in society, to be connected widely and happily with many, many people.
And we definitely need to get out more! :)
For Everything There Is A Season...
I love the change-of-seasons time each year. The transitions from Summer to Autumn and from Winter to Spring are the best.
This weekend it was sunny and hot (we spent a good deal of Sabbath wandering along the beach, and a good deal of Sunday cooking things over a fire) - today it's cool and misty. I can see scattered cloud high above in blue sky from my office window, but looking up the hill between trees the distance blurs into mist. I've got my office light off and the blinds way open so the light in here comes and goes as the mist ebbs and flows.
Trees are blossoming and evidence of Spring is all around. Yet my veggie patch is taking a while to start growing. Something is holding back the sudden growth spurt I was expecting. Things like spinach, that usually pop right up, have yet to appear.
I'm feeling a lot like that veggie patch right now. The seeds are in there (somewhere!), but nothing's happening. Just weeds coming up, but nothing useful. Heck, even the weeds are taking a long time to grow! Perhaps there's something wrong with my soil? Has it been poisoned, or does it not have enough earthworms? I just don't know. Perhaps I need to get down to the garden shop (church) and stock up on some fertilizer - even though I've sworn off anything non-organic. I really can't just expect the soil to naturally do it's thing without help, can I?
Maybe it's just a season thing. This is a fruitless season, one where there is no growth, only death and inactivity - for a reason that I have not the brainpower or insight to know. I don't like being here, but just as I can't force my seeds to grow, I can't force growth in me either.
Yet still I worry. Worry that I can't seem to read the Bible, worry that my soul asks "so who is this Jesus guy anyway and what does it have to do with me?", worry that inside me is a heart-shaped balloon - a thin membrane surrounding a nothing-vacuum.
Why can't I just enjoy this season of emptiness as much as I enjoy the seasons playing out on the other side of the window?
This weekend it was sunny and hot (we spent a good deal of Sabbath wandering along the beach, and a good deal of Sunday cooking things over a fire) - today it's cool and misty. I can see scattered cloud high above in blue sky from my office window, but looking up the hill between trees the distance blurs into mist. I've got my office light off and the blinds way open so the light in here comes and goes as the mist ebbs and flows.
Trees are blossoming and evidence of Spring is all around. Yet my veggie patch is taking a while to start growing. Something is holding back the sudden growth spurt I was expecting. Things like spinach, that usually pop right up, have yet to appear.
I'm feeling a lot like that veggie patch right now. The seeds are in there (somewhere!), but nothing's happening. Just weeds coming up, but nothing useful. Heck, even the weeds are taking a long time to grow! Perhaps there's something wrong with my soil? Has it been poisoned, or does it not have enough earthworms? I just don't know. Perhaps I need to get down to the garden shop (church) and stock up on some fertilizer - even though I've sworn off anything non-organic. I really can't just expect the soil to naturally do it's thing without help, can I?
Maybe it's just a season thing. This is a fruitless season, one where there is no growth, only death and inactivity - for a reason that I have not the brainpower or insight to know. I don't like being here, but just as I can't force my seeds to grow, I can't force growth in me either.
Yet still I worry. Worry that I can't seem to read the Bible, worry that my soul asks "so who is this Jesus guy anyway and what does it have to do with me?", worry that inside me is a heart-shaped balloon - a thin membrane surrounding a nothing-vacuum.
Why can't I just enjoy this season of emptiness as much as I enjoy the seasons playing out on the other side of the window?
Shabbat Shalom
(yes, this is part of the view from my front door!)
"God is love" is written upon every opening bud, upon every spire of springing grass. The lovely birds making the air vocal with their happy songs, the delicately tinted flowers in their perfection perfuming the air, the lofty trees of the forest with their rich foliage of living green -- all testify to the tender, fatherly care of our God and to His desire to make His children happy.
God has bound our hearts to Him by unnumbered tokens in heaven and in earth. Through the things of nature, and the deepest and tenderest earthly ties that human hearts can know, He has sought to reveal Himself to us.
- E White
I can do your job better!
Don't you just love it when you've been excelling at something for nearly 10 years, and the new boss (who only arrived this year) comes and tells you how to do your job? Today he came by and insisted I bend just about every rule the college has made so that a few students don't get "put off" and we lose them. I almost lost it. It was all I could do to not open my big mouth and say something nasty. I did tell him I've been doing this a while and know how to handle applications - and that there is a minimum of requirements I need before I'll process an application. I don't think he was listening though.
I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place. We desperately need students, and so some (like my boss) want me to "unofficially" drop the entry requirements. But then the academic departments moan at me when their students aren't up to standard. The obvious way to go would be to uphold the policies of the college, even if we lose students. But that's going to get me into hot water with the boss, the financial manager and others who look at student numbers instead of quality.
On top of this situation, I've had a load of other work dumped my way, and it's a half-day on Fridays - so tension and rushing is the order of the day! Thank goodness the weekend is upon us. Thank goodness I am able to switch off when I leave work and only switch on again on Monday. And thank goodness I'm finally learning not to let folk beat me into a corner, not to be a complete people pleaser, not to just shut up and be walked over.
I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place. We desperately need students, and so some (like my boss) want me to "unofficially" drop the entry requirements. But then the academic departments moan at me when their students aren't up to standard. The obvious way to go would be to uphold the policies of the college, even if we lose students. But that's going to get me into hot water with the boss, the financial manager and others who look at student numbers instead of quality.
On top of this situation, I've had a load of other work dumped my way, and it's a half-day on Fridays - so tension and rushing is the order of the day! Thank goodness the weekend is upon us. Thank goodness I am able to switch off when I leave work and only switch on again on Monday. And thank goodness I'm finally learning not to let folk beat me into a corner, not to be a complete people pleaser, not to just shut up and be walked over.
Try Something New Day!
Actually, my unofficial list says it's "National Cherry Popsicle Day", but as I don't have any of those, I'm nominating the day for something else.
And what, you might ask, am I trying today? Well - Biltong! (Yes, you South Africans can pick your jaws up off the floor, I haven't tasted the stuff yet). And what, you might ask, is Biltong? Basically it's dried meat - the Americans call it jerky, but they don't know how to make it decently. I once sent a packet of kudu biltong to an Australian friend, who thought it had a texture like cardboard, but tasted great.
The sliver I've got is apparently part of some poor beef that got hacked up, salted, spiced and hung out to dry. Fortunately it's just a sliver.
Bear in mind that I'm Vegetarian and that I wouldn't touch red meat (will have chicken at a braai/barbecue), and you'll see how big a deal this Try Something New Day is!
My verdict? Not bad. Nice balance of salt, spice and other goodies. Though I won't be having a second piece I can now at least claim to have eaten biltong! One day I will learn to make it. It's on my list of "stuff to conquer" that includes cooking a turkey, photographing the Namib desert and making a solid-wood dining-room table from scratch.
Now go forth and try something new yourself, then come back here and report it! That's an order!
And what, you might ask, am I trying today? Well - Biltong! (Yes, you South Africans can pick your jaws up off the floor, I haven't tasted the stuff yet). And what, you might ask, is Biltong? Basically it's dried meat - the Americans call it jerky, but they don't know how to make it decently. I once sent a packet of kudu biltong to an Australian friend, who thought it had a texture like cardboard, but tasted great.
The sliver I've got is apparently part of some poor beef that got hacked up, salted, spiced and hung out to dry. Fortunately it's just a sliver.
Bear in mind that I'm Vegetarian and that I wouldn't touch red meat (will have chicken at a braai/barbecue), and you'll see how big a deal this Try Something New Day is!
My verdict? Not bad. Nice balance of salt, spice and other goodies. Though I won't be having a second piece I can now at least claim to have eaten biltong! One day I will learn to make it. It's on my list of "stuff to conquer" that includes cooking a turkey, photographing the Namib desert and making a solid-wood dining-room table from scratch.
Now go forth and try something new yourself, then come back here and report it! That's an order!
The Cape on a Good Day
Beautiful almost-Spring days like this are what makes living in the Cape so awesome. It's almost enough for you to forget the endless, bone-chilling winter rains (which we haven't had enough of this year), the darned howling South-Easter wind (that's only supposed to last from November to January, but started in September last year and held out until May) and the occasional heat wave (two years ago we had a couple of weeks of over 40C daily).
But take a day like this - sunshine, everything washed transparent green, tiny spring flowers daring to paint fields in shades of bright, orchards starting to blush pink and white, NO wind - heck, on a day like this it's Cape-love at its best!
Once a week I used to have to make the trek from Somerset West to Paarl, an hour's drive through the winelands via Stellenbosch. Mid-autumn was awesome! Every vineyard turned a different colour - different varieties giving different shades of autumn. If you were lucky, there was just a sprinkle of snow on the mountains. It was pretty hard to keep my eyes on the road and off the scenery.
No wonder my dad can't wait to get back from Australia to the Fairest Cape for a visit.
Writing for Pleasure? Or Profit?
I was once a paid writer (actually I wrote two articles, but they only paid me for one before the company folded...). My sis-in-law worked for an entertainment-type magazine, and got me the gig. I did a review of cheap/free entertainment for kids in this area (with photos), and then one on a very old cinema near here.
She's been bugging me ever since then to get into writing for cash again. Approach a few magazines and newspapers etc. But there's somethign holding me back - other than the pressure to "perform", deadlines and having to go "sell myself".
I'm a near-perfectionist when it comes to grammar, spelling and such (no, don't go look there - I may have gotten it wrong now and then. I did say NEAR-perfectionist. :) ). I won an award for a poem, and consistently scored really well for essays, short stories and other English stuff in high school.
I love writing, and this blog has been a great outlet for my thoughts. Perhaps that's the problem. It's free - free to write and free to read. All my stuff ends up here instead of in a paid-for place. Blogging isn't high-pressure, I can say what I want when I want, and if no-one reads what I write, it's no skin off anyone's business nose.
Maybe one day I'll try it again for cash. I've been told I should write a book on single parenting (but mine's been real easy compared to other's). I've wondered if I should put my short stories in a book. I'd love to travel Africa and do a series of articles/photos on my adventures. Perhaps sometime I will.
But for now, the blog's where it's at. Read it free while you still can! :)
She's been bugging me ever since then to get into writing for cash again. Approach a few magazines and newspapers etc. But there's somethign holding me back - other than the pressure to "perform", deadlines and having to go "sell myself".
I'm a near-perfectionist when it comes to grammar, spelling and such (no, don't go look there - I may have gotten it wrong now and then. I did say NEAR-perfectionist. :) ). I won an award for a poem, and consistently scored really well for essays, short stories and other English stuff in high school.
I love writing, and this blog has been a great outlet for my thoughts. Perhaps that's the problem. It's free - free to write and free to read. All my stuff ends up here instead of in a paid-for place. Blogging isn't high-pressure, I can say what I want when I want, and if no-one reads what I write, it's no skin off anyone's business nose.
Maybe one day I'll try it again for cash. I've been told I should write a book on single parenting (but mine's been real easy compared to other's). I've wondered if I should put my short stories in a book. I'd love to travel Africa and do a series of articles/photos on my adventures. Perhaps sometime I will.
But for now, the blog's where it's at. Read it free while you still can! :)
The Man Who Wouldn't Rise
For the past two months, the South African media has been following an interesting story.
Paul Meintjes died 57 days ago. A prophet in his church said, "Do not bury his body. He's going to rise within 30 days." So his family kept him refrigerated, hoping for the best. The mortician checked in on him once a day to see if there were any sign of life. Nope, nothing.
After 30 days, his body had started to show signs of deterioration (even though frozen), and he definitely hadn't risen from the dead. The prophet went in a few times to talk to the body, to command it to rise up. He said it had, but then had refrozen before the man could be let out of the locked morgue.
At the 30-day mark a crowd gathered outside the building, chanting "rise up, rise up" - waiting to see if Paul would indeed rise from the dead. Nope, he didn't.
A few days later a stranger turned up from the Cape, claiming he was there to raise the dead. He had been given the power by God Himself, and "if anyone believes in me, he will not perish but have eternal life" (believe in this prophet guy, apparently). Well, he went and exhorted the body to rise. No luck. He disappeared without another word.
In the meantime the mortician was getting a bit antsy about having this dead guy taking up his shelf-space and starting to decompose, so started charging the family R1,000 a day to house the body. Paul's sister wasn't on the Resurrection Team, and had pleaded for the family to just go bury him, but was met with stony resistance.
Yesterday, 56 days after he died, Paul Meintjes was buried. Simply, in a plain coffin, laid to rest in dry stony ground with many others. His sister is relieved. His family is still hiding from the media and say it doesn't matter that he was buried, he's still going to rise. The mayor and other officials are glad the whole thing is over.
And the rest of South Africa has moved on to other news.
Paul Meintjes died 57 days ago. A prophet in his church said, "Do not bury his body. He's going to rise within 30 days." So his family kept him refrigerated, hoping for the best. The mortician checked in on him once a day to see if there were any sign of life. Nope, nothing.
After 30 days, his body had started to show signs of deterioration (even though frozen), and he definitely hadn't risen from the dead. The prophet went in a few times to talk to the body, to command it to rise up. He said it had, but then had refrozen before the man could be let out of the locked morgue.
At the 30-day mark a crowd gathered outside the building, chanting "rise up, rise up" - waiting to see if Paul would indeed rise from the dead. Nope, he didn't.
A few days later a stranger turned up from the Cape, claiming he was there to raise the dead. He had been given the power by God Himself, and "if anyone believes in me, he will not perish but have eternal life" (believe in this prophet guy, apparently). Well, he went and exhorted the body to rise. No luck. He disappeared without another word.
In the meantime the mortician was getting a bit antsy about having this dead guy taking up his shelf-space and starting to decompose, so started charging the family R1,000 a day to house the body. Paul's sister wasn't on the Resurrection Team, and had pleaded for the family to just go bury him, but was met with stony resistance.
Yesterday, 56 days after he died, Paul Meintjes was buried. Simply, in a plain coffin, laid to rest in dry stony ground with many others. His sister is relieved. His family is still hiding from the media and say it doesn't matter that he was buried, he's still going to rise. The mayor and other officials are glad the whole thing is over.
And the rest of South Africa has moved on to other news.
Music in my soul
I've got music in my soul. It's the one way I worship well - alone or with others. It's how my heart cries out. I wake up with a song in my head every morning and go to bed with the same or another each night. When I'm playing the piano songs seem to flow into each other - I can combine them effortlessly, and they somehow just fit. Like today: I had one song in my head (DC Talk's "What if I stumble") and suddenly it had flowed into another (the chorus of Matt Redman's "Better is one day in your house"), and flowed back again. It just fitted, music style, key and everything. This morning I woke up with "Better is one day" playing in tandem, over, within and around a Vineyard song, "Holy, holy is the King".
You know, some days I get all puffed up and think I'd make a pretty darned good worship leader - if only I could sing! :)
When I have no words, it's music that talks. I have yet to (successfully) write my own, so it's other's words and music that speaks to and through me. (OK, I admit I did write a song once in high school, a pretty cool thing called "Stormy Nights", but that's about it).
It's been a while since I sat down in front of the piano and let my fingers flow over the keys. I miss it. But Friday night's a-coming, and that's always a very good time for me to create music.
Music is art for me. It's creation, it's expression of who I am, it's relaxation and enjoyment, it's a spiritual calling. Some may call it a hobby, I call it a big part of what makes me Me.
You know, some days I get all puffed up and think I'd make a pretty darned good worship leader - if only I could sing! :)
When I have no words, it's music that talks. I have yet to (successfully) write my own, so it's other's words and music that speaks to and through me. (OK, I admit I did write a song once in high school, a pretty cool thing called "Stormy Nights", but that's about it).
It's been a while since I sat down in front of the piano and let my fingers flow over the keys. I miss it. But Friday night's a-coming, and that's always a very good time for me to create music.
Music is art for me. It's creation, it's expression of who I am, it's relaxation and enjoyment, it's a spiritual calling. Some may call it a hobby, I call it a big part of what makes me Me.
Decisions, decisions
So, I was given a R50 gift voucher for kalahari.net, the "South African version" of amazon.com. And I don't know what to spend it on! Books, music, DVDs? I just don't know. I have one week until it expires.
Any suggestions?
Any suggestions?
You had to be there...
I've been to church once in the past 2 months. Not a good track record for those out there that believe weekly attendance is prerequisite to salvation...but oh well.
I've got just one observation to make - that no-one has contacted me to find out where I am. When I did attend that one time they were all over me, saying they'd missed me and it was good to see me etc. But step out of the building, and you'll hear not a word. Not even from Best Friend (who, granted, is probably way too busy doing good works to be anywhere near a phone...).
It's just strange, that's all. For such a wonderful, vibrant community of superb believers. For someone like me who was deeply involved for 2 years and then suddenly disappeared.
I gues you just have to be there if you want to be missed. If you're not, you won't be. Strange...
I've got just one observation to make - that no-one has contacted me to find out where I am. When I did attend that one time they were all over me, saying they'd missed me and it was good to see me etc. But step out of the building, and you'll hear not a word. Not even from Best Friend (who, granted, is probably way too busy doing good works to be anywhere near a phone...).
It's just strange, that's all. For such a wonderful, vibrant community of superb believers. For someone like me who was deeply involved for 2 years and then suddenly disappeared.
I gues you just have to be there if you want to be missed. If you're not, you won't be. Strange...
The Journey Thus Far
My next turn to take morning worship for the staff members is coming up. I'm going to take my life in my hands and try to share a bit of this roller-coaster journey I've been on for the past few years, what I've learned so far. For some of them it may be way out of their frame of reference, which means I may be yet again condemned to the looney bin, for others it may be something they can relate to. But share it I will!
Here are some of the lessons I've learned:
* It's a LONG journey. The only time you're gonna see the end of it is when you reach heaven. The more you go forward, the further back you feel you're sliding - the more you learn, the more you realize you still have to learn.
* Persecution for your faith is not just an end-time tribulation thing. It happens today, now. It's more likely to come from the flock than the wolves.
* Sometimes you have to die to find life. Completely die.
* My journey is not your journey. I respect where you're at - so please respect where I'm at. It's not your place to judge where I'm at, nor mine to judge where you're at. That's God's job. The main thing is that in the end we end up where we belong.
* It's OK to take a break. Your soul will tell you when. But it may be hard to explain what you're doing to the rest of creation.
* You may think you have the answers - until they get challenged by someone who thinks they have the answers. This will send you diving into God's book to find answers, and you'll realize it can be read from an infinite number of angles - they can prove their answers just as well as you can prove yours. It gets confusing, but stick to what you believe and try find out why.
* Yes, time is running out for this planet, and for you, but a journey takes time. Just hope your journey is at a good stage when it all ends! :)
* God's people are not your local clique - they can be found everywhere and in many unexpected forms. Learn to see God in surprising places and embrace His children, no matter what your preconceived perceptions are.
* You are not alone.
* The kingdom of God is not just a future heaven - it's here, it's now and it needs to be lived out every day. It's not something we're hoping and striving for. It's reality.
* Because the kingdom is here, now, we have a duty to be involved in this planet's existance - in its conservation, care and enrichment. That means we don't use, abuse, plunder and waste, with the attitude that "heaven's coming, this earth doesn't matter". It also implies we need to get involved in social justice, in those less fortunate than we are - and there are many of them! - and those who could use some of what we hold tightly-fisted to our chests.
* When you've been letting "the church" make your spiritual decisions, train you, feed you, bring up your kids in kid's classes, etc., it's REALLY hard to start doing that stuff yourself. There's a lot of form-baggage to get rid of, and one can feel really lost! It's jolly hard work....
* "Taking the name of the Lord in vain" has less to do with using God's name as a swear-word, and more to do with calling yourself a Christian, but then not living as one.
(there's more, and I'll update this as I think of them)
Here are some of the lessons I've learned:
* It's a LONG journey. The only time you're gonna see the end of it is when you reach heaven. The more you go forward, the further back you feel you're sliding - the more you learn, the more you realize you still have to learn.
* Persecution for your faith is not just an end-time tribulation thing. It happens today, now. It's more likely to come from the flock than the wolves.
* Sometimes you have to die to find life. Completely die.
* My journey is not your journey. I respect where you're at - so please respect where I'm at. It's not your place to judge where I'm at, nor mine to judge where you're at. That's God's job. The main thing is that in the end we end up where we belong.
* It's OK to take a break. Your soul will tell you when. But it may be hard to explain what you're doing to the rest of creation.
* You may think you have the answers - until they get challenged by someone who thinks they have the answers. This will send you diving into God's book to find answers, and you'll realize it can be read from an infinite number of angles - they can prove their answers just as well as you can prove yours. It gets confusing, but stick to what you believe and try find out why.
* Yes, time is running out for this planet, and for you, but a journey takes time. Just hope your journey is at a good stage when it all ends! :)
* God's people are not your local clique - they can be found everywhere and in many unexpected forms. Learn to see God in surprising places and embrace His children, no matter what your preconceived perceptions are.
* You are not alone.
* The kingdom of God is not just a future heaven - it's here, it's now and it needs to be lived out every day. It's not something we're hoping and striving for. It's reality.
* Because the kingdom is here, now, we have a duty to be involved in this planet's existance - in its conservation, care and enrichment. That means we don't use, abuse, plunder and waste, with the attitude that "heaven's coming, this earth doesn't matter". It also implies we need to get involved in social justice, in those less fortunate than we are - and there are many of them! - and those who could use some of what we hold tightly-fisted to our chests.
* When you've been letting "the church" make your spiritual decisions, train you, feed you, bring up your kids in kid's classes, etc., it's REALLY hard to start doing that stuff yourself. There's a lot of form-baggage to get rid of, and one can feel really lost! It's jolly hard work....
* "Taking the name of the Lord in vain" has less to do with using God's name as a swear-word, and more to do with calling yourself a Christian, but then not living as one.
(there's more, and I'll update this as I think of them)
Room with a View
After nearly a year of moaning about the sun hitting my computer screen from 11 to 3 every day, I've changed my office around. Not only is the sun problem solved, but now I have a view!
My office is north-facing (the sunny side in the southern hemisphere). It gets pretty hot in summer, but it's lovely in winter. Most of the wall is taken up by window, and although it only faces the college hall across the road, a couple of parked cars, a big gum tree, a sloping bank of grass and a half-window of sky, it's great! Stress relief for me has a lot to do with nature - seeing it, smelling it, feeling it, imagining it. When I feel overwhelmed I take a mini-break and stare out the window a bit. Sometimes I look for new spring flowers in the grass, or watch fluffy clouds drifing by, or the rain pouring down the window.
I've also done something I don't usually do - closed my office door. Mainly so the aircon can warm up my little space. The under-desk heater I was using doesn't reach this far from the plug point. But it's had some superb side effects - the noise level from outside is down dramatically, I have less random poppers-in, and have been able to get a lot more work done. Yesterday I basically cleared my desk, so have a bit of time today to sit and think, plan, organize and declutter.
Lately, being at my office has become less stressful than being at home. I have 4 sets of new neighbours - and 2 of them have no notion of time or volume. They tend to be loud in talk and music and running up and down until very late, which gets me going to no end. Not that I'd go out and moan at them, but I do "hint" sometimes. Like recently, when I let the dogs out to go pee, but they barked as one of the guys ran past. I said (to the dog), "Hey, no barking - everyone's already sleeping!" - and the music got turned down immediately afterwards... :)
I've been craving space and quiet and room to move yet again. My office is tiny, but the view expands it. My home is tiny too - granted, it has a patch of lawn we call the garden and a view to die for, but the ceilings and walls are solid concrete and any footstep or door-slam from the neighbours echoes through my place too. I've been longing for a home far from people, where I don't look up from gardening to see the kid upstairs watching me, where I don't look at the view and see the neighbours (who then think I'm looking at them, not the view), where I can truly unwind at the end of the day without getting wound up again by car, people and radio noise. I don't know if I'll get a home like that on this earth, or if I have to wait until I can order my own planet in heaven....
I know "community" is touted in Real Christian Living circles, but at this rate I want to avoid community just to get a break from people!
My mind's been wandering, imagining what packing up for a month and heading out to Nowhere would be like. Just driving, or camping, or being in a people-less place, surrounded by nature. Oh man, I could do with that now. A recent nature programme on TV told of a couple who for 14 years have been filming the big cats in Africa - FOURTEEN YEARS! Wow. I wonder what that would be like. To spend years out in God's creation, studying and getting to know the creatures of His hands. I'm pretty sure they're not half as stressed out and burned out as most of the rest of us.
Unfortunately, it's highly unlikely that I would be able to chuck it all in and go make nature movies. Though I am thinking of an extended trip with a good camera... But for today, for right now, my room with a view will have to do. It will have to be the natural world I can see and feel. It will have to be my peace and quiet for today.
My office is north-facing (the sunny side in the southern hemisphere). It gets pretty hot in summer, but it's lovely in winter. Most of the wall is taken up by window, and although it only faces the college hall across the road, a couple of parked cars, a big gum tree, a sloping bank of grass and a half-window of sky, it's great! Stress relief for me has a lot to do with nature - seeing it, smelling it, feeling it, imagining it. When I feel overwhelmed I take a mini-break and stare out the window a bit. Sometimes I look for new spring flowers in the grass, or watch fluffy clouds drifing by, or the rain pouring down the window.
I've also done something I don't usually do - closed my office door. Mainly so the aircon can warm up my little space. The under-desk heater I was using doesn't reach this far from the plug point. But it's had some superb side effects - the noise level from outside is down dramatically, I have less random poppers-in, and have been able to get a lot more work done. Yesterday I basically cleared my desk, so have a bit of time today to sit and think, plan, organize and declutter.
Lately, being at my office has become less stressful than being at home. I have 4 sets of new neighbours - and 2 of them have no notion of time or volume. They tend to be loud in talk and music and running up and down until very late, which gets me going to no end. Not that I'd go out and moan at them, but I do "hint" sometimes. Like recently, when I let the dogs out to go pee, but they barked as one of the guys ran past. I said (to the dog), "Hey, no barking - everyone's already sleeping!" - and the music got turned down immediately afterwards... :)
I've been craving space and quiet and room to move yet again. My office is tiny, but the view expands it. My home is tiny too - granted, it has a patch of lawn we call the garden and a view to die for, but the ceilings and walls are solid concrete and any footstep or door-slam from the neighbours echoes through my place too. I've been longing for a home far from people, where I don't look up from gardening to see the kid upstairs watching me, where I don't look at the view and see the neighbours (who then think I'm looking at them, not the view), where I can truly unwind at the end of the day without getting wound up again by car, people and radio noise. I don't know if I'll get a home like that on this earth, or if I have to wait until I can order my own planet in heaven....
I know "community" is touted in Real Christian Living circles, but at this rate I want to avoid community just to get a break from people!
My mind's been wandering, imagining what packing up for a month and heading out to Nowhere would be like. Just driving, or camping, or being in a people-less place, surrounded by nature. Oh man, I could do with that now. A recent nature programme on TV told of a couple who for 14 years have been filming the big cats in Africa - FOURTEEN YEARS! Wow. I wonder what that would be like. To spend years out in God's creation, studying and getting to know the creatures of His hands. I'm pretty sure they're not half as stressed out and burned out as most of the rest of us.
Unfortunately, it's highly unlikely that I would be able to chuck it all in and go make nature movies. Though I am thinking of an extended trip with a good camera... But for today, for right now, my room with a view will have to do. It will have to be the natural world I can see and feel. It will have to be my peace and quiet for today.
Cleansing
Fed up with my clothes shrinking (ie me expanding), today I'm on a fresh/natural-stuff only eating plan. I started out the day with 2 apples, a pear and a glass of ruby grapefruit juice. No coffee, no bread (my usual breakfast), just that. After the pear I could barely face the apples, but I did it!
Now it's on to the only other thing I will drink today except water - green tea. No sugar, no milk/creamer, just plain hot water and green tea. Fortunately it's the brand with added mint, so it's bearable.
I've got a small amount of raisins as snacks, along with MORE apples. Lunch is going to be salads, steamed veg and such. Supper is due to be a nice vegetable soup with no added butter, milk or anything like that, and no accompanying bread - it's my "cure-all" soup that I use when I feel something like the flu coming on. It's basically onion, garlic, green pepper, a can of tomatoes, sprinkle of chili, cayenne pepper and seasoning. Sometimes I throw in chopped potato and a can of beans, but will probably just add a few lentils this time. Full of good anti-oxidant stuff.
But being winter still, I'm thinking of all that comfort food - roast potatoes crispy from their olive-oil coating, rich puddings, milky coffee... Which I have to get out of my head! I spent the entire weekend being sedentary - sitting around reading or watching TV, eating way too much sugary stuff (got into baking mode) and way too few good wholesome things.
This is just for one day, but hopefully it will help kick-start a gradual lifestyle change that will leave me healthier, leaner and with a heck of a lot more energy, and sort out my son's bad eating habits at the same time.
::update::
As expected, the no-caffiene headache kicked in just after 10... I guess I MUST be addicted to coffee after all! :)
Now it's on to the only other thing I will drink today except water - green tea. No sugar, no milk/creamer, just plain hot water and green tea. Fortunately it's the brand with added mint, so it's bearable.
I've got a small amount of raisins as snacks, along with MORE apples. Lunch is going to be salads, steamed veg and such. Supper is due to be a nice vegetable soup with no added butter, milk or anything like that, and no accompanying bread - it's my "cure-all" soup that I use when I feel something like the flu coming on. It's basically onion, garlic, green pepper, a can of tomatoes, sprinkle of chili, cayenne pepper and seasoning. Sometimes I throw in chopped potato and a can of beans, but will probably just add a few lentils this time. Full of good anti-oxidant stuff.
But being winter still, I'm thinking of all that comfort food - roast potatoes crispy from their olive-oil coating, rich puddings, milky coffee... Which I have to get out of my head! I spent the entire weekend being sedentary - sitting around reading or watching TV, eating way too much sugary stuff (got into baking mode) and way too few good wholesome things.
This is just for one day, but hopefully it will help kick-start a gradual lifestyle change that will leave me healthier, leaner and with a heck of a lot more energy, and sort out my son's bad eating habits at the same time.
::update::
As expected, the no-caffiene headache kicked in just after 10... I guess I MUST be addicted to coffee after all! :)
Soul Plunge
I'm off taking a soul plunge today. Immersing myself in things of beauty, peace and inspiration. Something like a jump into a cold mountain pool from the top of a waterfall - but for the soul.
I'll be back when my soul is sufficiently refreshed, when it can find words for what's in my heart, and when the tiring worries of the day have been scrubbed off of it.
Photo source
Shabbat Shalom
Lord, I have no words. You know my heart better than I could ever know it myself. Take what's there as my prayer today.
Happy Potato Day!
August 19 is Potato Day. The biggest potato I ever saw was an Idaho spud in the USA. The best potato I ever ate was potato skins at TGI's in Tennessee. Not even morning sickness put me off those!
So, in honour of Potato Day, here are some of my favourite ways to eat spuds:
* Peeled, roasted in olive oil with whole garlic cloves and fresh rosemary, then served with a plain yoghurt, lemon juice, garlic salt and chive "dip".
* Mashed with butter, milk and garlic salt, served with a sauce of chopped peeled tomatoes, garlic, olive oil and Itailan herbs. Or served with a generous dollop of Miracle Whip instead.
* Microwaved (star potatoes, as we cut a cross in them before microwaving), then fork-smashed on your plate with Miracle Whip, garlic salt and home-canned chilies.
* Home-made Ovenbake Chips: Peeled, "chipped" and tossed with olive oil before roasting in a hot oven until done.
* Wedges: Peeled, "wedged" and tossed with olive oil and (dry powder type) white onion soup mix, then baked until crispy in a hot oven.
Oh man, now I'm drooling....
So, in honour of Potato Day, here are some of my favourite ways to eat spuds:
* Peeled, roasted in olive oil with whole garlic cloves and fresh rosemary, then served with a plain yoghurt, lemon juice, garlic salt and chive "dip".
* Mashed with butter, milk and garlic salt, served with a sauce of chopped peeled tomatoes, garlic, olive oil and Itailan herbs. Or served with a generous dollop of Miracle Whip instead.
* Microwaved (star potatoes, as we cut a cross in them before microwaving), then fork-smashed on your plate with Miracle Whip, garlic salt and home-canned chilies.
* Home-made Ovenbake Chips: Peeled, "chipped" and tossed with olive oil before roasting in a hot oven until done.
* Wedges: Peeled, "wedged" and tossed with olive oil and (dry powder type) white onion soup mix, then baked until crispy in a hot oven.
Oh man, now I'm drooling....
Be Nice
I'm a people pleaser. I want people to like me, so I don't make ripples, I bend over backwards, smile when inside I'm seething - well, you know how it goes. There are a lot of us out there.
When I first started my job here, one of my duties was student admission (it's now that full-time, with other stuff added). Being the "nice" person who I was, I found it really really hard to dash a prospective student's hopes and dreams by telling them they didn't qualify to study here. I almost wanted to slip them through under the radar, even though many of them had grades that said it was NOT a good idea for them to attempt any type of study. I remember one lady who turned up at registration with no money for fees. I went and paid her quarter's fees, with the promise from her that I'd have the money back in a week. Of course I was pretty naive - it took 6 months for me to get the money and made me bitter and angry in the process.
I'm nearly over that kind of behaviour with regards to students - but still, like today, find myself in the position of having to dash a few dreams and turn them away. It's still hard. I know what it's like to be disappointed, when there's nothing you can do about it.
Work isn't the only place I try to "play nice". I've taken crap without a word for many years from many people because I wanted to appear nice, be liked. It is, after all, "Christian" to love your enemies, turn the other cheek, do good to those who don't do good to you. That's been hammered into many of us so hard that it's a part of who we are now.
But there's another part that doesn't want to be nice. That wants to instead be real and quit the act. The part that knows Christianity is going to get a bad name if it comes out. That part is battling right now to poke out its head, show its ugly face to the world.
I don't want to give God, Christianity, a bad reputation through my one example. I may just carry on putting up the walls and painting on the happy face instead of throwing my toys out the cot. But it gets really tiring, this act. Maybe a good tantrum every so often would be cathartic...? Bring me off whatever pedestal I imagine myself to be on? Let me discover the REAL me that's hiding behind being nice? Would I really want to know that me?
As staff members here we're constantly reminded that we're a Christian, no - a Seventh-day Adventist - institution, and we need to act like it. Act? I'd rather not (one more reason I'm not fitting in so well). It's no good putting on a big show of sticking to what we're supposed to be, ignoring the stuff swirling just below the surface. All the arguments over how we appear are moot, just for show - or at least that's my opinion. We might better show what God's all about if we were just ourselves, warts and all. When change comes in our lives, real change, it's likely to inspire a lot more than the show we've put on for years.
I don't think I really want to be nice today, to play nice. But I'm torn between my "Christian duty" and my dragging-my-feet-through-the-desert journey. Don't know if either of them will win this battle.
I guess it's called being lukewarm.
When I first started my job here, one of my duties was student admission (it's now that full-time, with other stuff added). Being the "nice" person who I was, I found it really really hard to dash a prospective student's hopes and dreams by telling them they didn't qualify to study here. I almost wanted to slip them through under the radar, even though many of them had grades that said it was NOT a good idea for them to attempt any type of study. I remember one lady who turned up at registration with no money for fees. I went and paid her quarter's fees, with the promise from her that I'd have the money back in a week. Of course I was pretty naive - it took 6 months for me to get the money and made me bitter and angry in the process.
I'm nearly over that kind of behaviour with regards to students - but still, like today, find myself in the position of having to dash a few dreams and turn them away. It's still hard. I know what it's like to be disappointed, when there's nothing you can do about it.
Work isn't the only place I try to "play nice". I've taken crap without a word for many years from many people because I wanted to appear nice, be liked. It is, after all, "Christian" to love your enemies, turn the other cheek, do good to those who don't do good to you. That's been hammered into many of us so hard that it's a part of who we are now.
But there's another part that doesn't want to be nice. That wants to instead be real and quit the act. The part that knows Christianity is going to get a bad name if it comes out. That part is battling right now to poke out its head, show its ugly face to the world.
I don't want to give God, Christianity, a bad reputation through my one example. I may just carry on putting up the walls and painting on the happy face instead of throwing my toys out the cot. But it gets really tiring, this act. Maybe a good tantrum every so often would be cathartic...? Bring me off whatever pedestal I imagine myself to be on? Let me discover the REAL me that's hiding behind being nice? Would I really want to know that me?
As staff members here we're constantly reminded that we're a Christian, no - a Seventh-day Adventist - institution, and we need to act like it. Act? I'd rather not (one more reason I'm not fitting in so well). It's no good putting on a big show of sticking to what we're supposed to be, ignoring the stuff swirling just below the surface. All the arguments over how we appear are moot, just for show - or at least that's my opinion. We might better show what God's all about if we were just ourselves, warts and all. When change comes in our lives, real change, it's likely to inspire a lot more than the show we've put on for years.
I don't think I really want to be nice today, to play nice. But I'm torn between my "Christian duty" and my dragging-my-feet-through-the-desert journey. Don't know if either of them will win this battle.
I guess it's called being lukewarm.
While on holiday from church....
I can never say things right when people ask me questions. It's usually WAY after the event that I come up with a good answer, a witty reply, a decent explanation. (Which is why I like blogging - it gives you time to think before you answer)
So when I was asked recently what I thought about my worship team "break", I said all the wrong things. Like, I was enjoying not having to figure out if it was an on week or an off week, whether I've missed a practice or if I've forgotten what the team is wearing that week. And then I went and blew my mouth off about how I'd experienced the service (too loud when I needed quiet), and that I'd brought the person some articles on worship with a couple of music scores I'd downloaded. That made her all defensive and full of "you should have been here last week"s. But I didn't get a chance to say I wasn't being critical, that I didn't want to try change what they were doing, just that this was the way I had felt.
Later on I realized I'd got it wrong again... hadn't explained myself properly, or I'd talked too fast, or interrupted and said something instead of waiting to hear her out. I never told her why she hasn't seen me at church in a month, and I haven't come up with a spur-of-the-moment reply that I'm happy with if anyone else asks what church I'm at these days.
Perhaps I should work on a speech, something I've got all ready just in case. A pocket-size list that I can haul out and go through when people question where I'm at and why.
You see, the thing is, I'm just taking a church holiday. Or maybe it's a transition phase - can't be sure yet. I'm not "worshipping" anywhere, I'm not "fellowshipping" anywhere. I'm a stay-at-home Christian right now.
I did actually attend church last weekend - my son's choir was singing at a praise service. But it did me more harm than good to sit there and try be Christian (you know, connect with God, be reverent and not judgmental, all that stuff). I missed the quiet time I usually spend on a Sabbath morning, just me and the silence. I didn't want to be dictated to as to what my God-view should be, what praise should look like and how a Christian should dress for church.
I guess the church holiday and the desert place I'm in spiritually might go together. I don't want to see happy Christians lifting their hands in praise while I sit there stone-cold. I don't want to get into the "where have you been, we haven't seen you in a while" thing, or the "when are you coming back to the worship team" thing. I don't want to sing songs others have chosen that have nothing to do with what my heart is/isn't feeling, or be "led to God's throne" kicking and screaming by the ring in my nose (no, I don't have one - yet - but have you seen them trying to get bulls moving like that?).
All I want to do these days is sit. Just be. And be left alone to be. I want time and space to think and feel. Or just to sit in blank silence.
Fellowship? Maybe later. Worship? When I can figure out who God is to me. Church? Maybe, maybe not. Depends on the journey.
In the meantime I'm on holiday. Gone fishing. Out to lunch. Do not disturb.
So when I was asked recently what I thought about my worship team "break", I said all the wrong things. Like, I was enjoying not having to figure out if it was an on week or an off week, whether I've missed a practice or if I've forgotten what the team is wearing that week. And then I went and blew my mouth off about how I'd experienced the service (too loud when I needed quiet), and that I'd brought the person some articles on worship with a couple of music scores I'd downloaded. That made her all defensive and full of "you should have been here last week"s. But I didn't get a chance to say I wasn't being critical, that I didn't want to try change what they were doing, just that this was the way I had felt.
Later on I realized I'd got it wrong again... hadn't explained myself properly, or I'd talked too fast, or interrupted and said something instead of waiting to hear her out. I never told her why she hasn't seen me at church in a month, and I haven't come up with a spur-of-the-moment reply that I'm happy with if anyone else asks what church I'm at these days.
Perhaps I should work on a speech, something I've got all ready just in case. A pocket-size list that I can haul out and go through when people question where I'm at and why.
You see, the thing is, I'm just taking a church holiday. Or maybe it's a transition phase - can't be sure yet. I'm not "worshipping" anywhere, I'm not "fellowshipping" anywhere. I'm a stay-at-home Christian right now.
I did actually attend church last weekend - my son's choir was singing at a praise service. But it did me more harm than good to sit there and try be Christian (you know, connect with God, be reverent and not judgmental, all that stuff). I missed the quiet time I usually spend on a Sabbath morning, just me and the silence. I didn't want to be dictated to as to what my God-view should be, what praise should look like and how a Christian should dress for church.
I guess the church holiday and the desert place I'm in spiritually might go together. I don't want to see happy Christians lifting their hands in praise while I sit there stone-cold. I don't want to get into the "where have you been, we haven't seen you in a while" thing, or the "when are you coming back to the worship team" thing. I don't want to sing songs others have chosen that have nothing to do with what my heart is/isn't feeling, or be "led to God's throne" kicking and screaming by the ring in my nose (no, I don't have one - yet - but have you seen them trying to get bulls moving like that?).
All I want to do these days is sit. Just be. And be left alone to be. I want time and space to think and feel. Or just to sit in blank silence.
Fellowship? Maybe later. Worship? When I can figure out who God is to me. Church? Maybe, maybe not. Depends on the journey.
In the meantime I'm on holiday. Gone fishing. Out to lunch. Do not disturb.
Random Blogs
Noticed Blogger has a new top-bar? Checking through my site stats earlier, I wondered how some folk had found me, especially those whose blogs were purely written in Chinese...! And that's why - you can press "next" and be directed to a random blogger blog.
So that's what I'm doing. Out of my usual circle of regular reads (and links off them to similar blogs) it's quite something to find out what's out there. Who's saying what, how they've set up their image in cyberspace, and whether or not I can understand what language they're writing in! :)
Fascinating little exercise, but so far haven't found anyone who strikes a chord with me.
So that's what I'm doing. Out of my usual circle of regular reads (and links off them to similar blogs) it's quite something to find out what's out there. Who's saying what, how they've set up their image in cyberspace, and whether or not I can understand what language they're writing in! :)
Fascinating little exercise, but so far haven't found anyone who strikes a chord with me.
It's Bad Poetry Day!!!
At last - something I can really celebrate! So, here is my submission in honour of Bad Poetry Day (August 18), written in high school when I had a crush on some bloke:
Are you thinking of me?
I'm thinking of you
I've been thinking of you
Since you first looked at me
Am I thinking of you?
You're looking at me
Are you thinking of me
Like I'm thinking of you?
You may think of me now
Will you think of me thn?
Will you ever like me
Like I'm liking you now?
By all means - submit your own bad poetry in the comments today!
Are you thinking of me?
I'm thinking of you
I've been thinking of you
Since you first looked at me
Am I thinking of you?
You're looking at me
Are you thinking of me
Like I'm thinking of you?
You may think of me now
Will you think of me thn?
Will you ever like me
Like I'm liking you now?
By all means - submit your own bad poetry in the comments today!
Of Dreams
It doesn't happen often, but did again on Monday night. I half-woke after a terrifying dream in which a sense of evil was literally oppressive. Woke up in a sweat, too scared to open my eyes, and I think I did some serious prayer-pleading during the dream. I half-remember that it was the only way I escaped. It was as if I were being crushed, sat on by a heavy demonic force, though the "story" in my dream revolved around being trapped in the upper storey of a house with a girl who was being somehow abused by the power present.
I can remember while in the USA having one of these dreams. I'm not one to talk in my sleep - ever - but this time I woke up with a hoarse cry for "help! help me!". I woke myself up calling for help - being chased by a "ghost" that had stretched cold claws out to consume me. A year or so back there was another dream, one that again had that overwhelmingly evil feeling, that left me drenched in sweat and terrified to open my eyes in case it wasn't really a dream.
Yet after the dream is over, everything's OK. There's just a memory of it left, but the world is once more fine and dandy - and safe.
I have to wonder what brings on dreams like this. Are they our brains on idle, sorting through stuff that the day has thrown at us? Or is it a subconcious awareness of a battle for our souls as we sleep? Why, oh why on earth, do dreams like this suddenly surface out of nowhere?
(And did it have anything to do with the fact that I watched "Charmed" on Monday night? I've just remembered that the last dream I had was after watching that self-same programme! Only this episode didn't have anything dramatically evil that could have subconciously brought it on...)
I can remember while in the USA having one of these dreams. I'm not one to talk in my sleep - ever - but this time I woke up with a hoarse cry for "help! help me!". I woke myself up calling for help - being chased by a "ghost" that had stretched cold claws out to consume me. A year or so back there was another dream, one that again had that overwhelmingly evil feeling, that left me drenched in sweat and terrified to open my eyes in case it wasn't really a dream.
Yet after the dream is over, everything's OK. There's just a memory of it left, but the world is once more fine and dandy - and safe.
I have to wonder what brings on dreams like this. Are they our brains on idle, sorting through stuff that the day has thrown at us? Or is it a subconcious awareness of a battle for our souls as we sleep? Why, oh why on earth, do dreams like this suddenly surface out of nowhere?
(And did it have anything to do with the fact that I watched "Charmed" on Monday night? I've just remembered that the last dream I had was after watching that self-same programme! Only this episode didn't have anything dramatically evil that could have subconciously brought it on...)
Time
Days fly past, one too much like the other. No time for long lazy meals, slow food relished with friends and family. No time to feel clay in my hands, paint dabbing canvas, pencils drawn over paper. No time for afternoon naps or hours spent just being. No time for a long walk, a wander on forested mountain slopes. No time to get out of the rut and explore alternatives to what fills minutes, hours, days.
No time to live.
No time to live.
Bible Humour
(This in by email from my dad this morning)
Q. What kind of man was Boaz before he married?
A. Ruthless.
Q. What do they call pastors in Germany?
A. German Shepherds.
Q. Who was the greatest financier in the Bible?
A. Noah. He was floating his stock while everyone else was in liquidation.
Q. Who was the greatest female financier in the Bible?
A. Pharaoh's daughter. She went down to the bank of the Nile and drew out a little prophet.
Q. What kind of motor vehicles are in the Bible?
A. Jehovah drove Adam and Eve out of the Garden in a Fury. David's Triumph
was heard throughout the land. Also, probably a Honda, because the apostles
were all in one Accord.
Q. Who was the greatest comedian in the Bible?
A. Samson. He brought the house down.
Q. What excuse did Adam give to his children as to why he no longer lived in Eden?
A. Your mother ate us out of house and home.
Q. Which servant of God was the most flagrant lawbreaker in the Bible?
A. Moses. He broke all 10 commandments at once.
Q. Which area of Palestine was especially wealthy?
A. The area around Jordan. The banks were always overflowing.
Q. Who is the greatest baby sitter mentioned in the Bible?
A. David. He rocked Goliath to a very deep sleep.
Q. Which Bible character had no parents?
A. Joshua, son of Nun.
Q. Why didn't they play cards on the Ark?
A. Because Noah was standing on the deck. (Groannn.)
PS... Did you know that men, not women, should always make the coffee?
Yup, it's in the Bible. It says . "Hebrews"
Q. What kind of man was Boaz before he married?
A. Ruthless.
Q. What do they call pastors in Germany?
A. German Shepherds.
Q. Who was the greatest financier in the Bible?
A. Noah. He was floating his stock while everyone else was in liquidation.
Q. Who was the greatest female financier in the Bible?
A. Pharaoh's daughter. She went down to the bank of the Nile and drew out a little prophet.
Q. What kind of motor vehicles are in the Bible?
A. Jehovah drove Adam and Eve out of the Garden in a Fury. David's Triumph
was heard throughout the land. Also, probably a Honda, because the apostles
were all in one Accord.
Q. Who was the greatest comedian in the Bible?
A. Samson. He brought the house down.
Q. What excuse did Adam give to his children as to why he no longer lived in Eden?
A. Your mother ate us out of house and home.
Q. Which servant of God was the most flagrant lawbreaker in the Bible?
A. Moses. He broke all 10 commandments at once.
Q. Which area of Palestine was especially wealthy?
A. The area around Jordan. The banks were always overflowing.
Q. Who is the greatest baby sitter mentioned in the Bible?
A. David. He rocked Goliath to a very deep sleep.
Q. Which Bible character had no parents?
A. Joshua, son of Nun.
Q. Why didn't they play cards on the Ark?
A. Because Noah was standing on the deck. (Groannn.)
PS... Did you know that men, not women, should always make the coffee?
Yup, it's in the Bible. It says . "Hebrews"
National Anthems
(Last sport-related post for the day, promise!)
The coolest part of the entire rugby match this weekend was hearing 62,000 South Africans belting out our country's Big Song for all they were worth (can you tell I'm not really a rugby fan, more of a people-watcher?). If it was impressive on TV, it was no doubt stadium-shaking in person. It sure as heck drowned out the Scary Kiwi War Cry.
And then there are our gold-medal swimmers. One attempted a few lines of the anthem, but gave up and stood grinning with the other 3 for the remainder of the song. In their defense perhaps they're swimmers, not singers. And the thing is written in 4 lanugages, and does go on pretty long. (And the rugby crowd no doubt had the words up on their big screen in case they forgot).
But I think it's about time we, especially our athletes, knew the anthem, top to bottom, all 4 languages notwithstanding. It should be compulsory during team training, whether you can sing or not! At the very least, learn the words to mouth so you look like you're singing. That way we can all join in whole-heartedly when we find ourselves on the first-place podium...
The coolest part of the entire rugby match this weekend was hearing 62,000 South Africans belting out our country's Big Song for all they were worth (can you tell I'm not really a rugby fan, more of a people-watcher?). If it was impressive on TV, it was no doubt stadium-shaking in person. It sure as heck drowned out the Scary Kiwi War Cry.
And then there are our gold-medal swimmers. One attempted a few lines of the anthem, but gave up and stood grinning with the other 3 for the remainder of the song. In their defense perhaps they're swimmers, not singers. And the thing is written in 4 lanugages, and does go on pretty long. (And the rugby crowd no doubt had the words up on their big screen in case they forgot).
But I think it's about time we, especially our athletes, knew the anthem, top to bottom, all 4 languages notwithstanding. It should be compulsory during team training, whether you can sing or not! At the very least, learn the words to mouth so you look like you're singing. That way we can all join in whole-heartedly when we find ourselves on the first-place podium...
Family time
I realized once again this weekend how little time my son and I actually spend together. In the mornings he's barely woken up before he's eaten, dressed and out the door to school (starts at 7:30 every morning). Lunchtimes are rushed - I go home, cook, eat, and get back to work within an hour, sometimes only seeing him a few minutes before I dash off. When I get home from work he's watching the last cartoon of the day, then disappears to play with friends while I make supper. After we eat (no table, so it's in front of the TV), it's homework, bath, bed. Some nights he gets it done in time for me to read at bedtime, some nights he doesn't. Most nights all I want to do is say goodnight and go to bed myself.
Weekends aren't much better - we both often need a break after a day or two cooped up in rainy weather together, and he usually disappears to his friend's place until the sun goes down. Friday night is "talk night", a time we just sit and talk with the TV off, nothing to distract us - unless he gets a bee in his bonnet and wants to create something on the computer or paper, in which case he toddles off to the bedroom and leaves me in the lounge exhausted, half asleep after the week's rush.
This weekend was no different. Although we didn't see a lot of each other, when we did we were either eating or watching something on TV. And by Sunday night I was irritable and he was hungry (he refused to eat the curry I made for lunch, and I wasn't going to make him anything else). It was all we could do to get through the evening and into bed.
There's a lot I want to talk to him about, but it's not things you can bring up in passing. There's a lot he probably has to say to me too, but doesn't get the chance. Our "schedules" collide and leave us spinning off in a different direction each time.
But he's growing up. Pretty soon it will be uncool to talk to mom, or he'll be going through teen angst or something. And the moment will have passed. We will have missed out on communicating and just being together. I will have missed the times to guide him properly toward being a good adult and I would have gone back on my promise to do my darndest to bring him up with everything I have. Most days I barely have enough to go around... At the end of the day I'm done in, but I can't think of anything that did it.
We need less clutter in our home and lives. We need to get out of our rut and go do fun stuff more - provided there's cash to do so (a biggie!). We need to have people over and make new friends. We need to turn off the TV and listen, work together and play together. We need more hours in the day. There's a lot I want to teach him - cooking, living, being, relating. There's a lot I need to remember how to do myself before I can.
Something's gotta change. Something's gotta give. Soon. Before it's too late.
Weekends aren't much better - we both often need a break after a day or two cooped up in rainy weather together, and he usually disappears to his friend's place until the sun goes down. Friday night is "talk night", a time we just sit and talk with the TV off, nothing to distract us - unless he gets a bee in his bonnet and wants to create something on the computer or paper, in which case he toddles off to the bedroom and leaves me in the lounge exhausted, half asleep after the week's rush.
This weekend was no different. Although we didn't see a lot of each other, when we did we were either eating or watching something on TV. And by Sunday night I was irritable and he was hungry (he refused to eat the curry I made for lunch, and I wasn't going to make him anything else). It was all we could do to get through the evening and into bed.
There's a lot I want to talk to him about, but it's not things you can bring up in passing. There's a lot he probably has to say to me too, but doesn't get the chance. Our "schedules" collide and leave us spinning off in a different direction each time.
But he's growing up. Pretty soon it will be uncool to talk to mom, or he'll be going through teen angst or something. And the moment will have passed. We will have missed out on communicating and just being together. I will have missed the times to guide him properly toward being a good adult and I would have gone back on my promise to do my darndest to bring him up with everything I have. Most days I barely have enough to go around... At the end of the day I'm done in, but I can't think of anything that did it.
We need less clutter in our home and lives. We need to get out of our rut and go do fun stuff more - provided there's cash to do so (a biggie!). We need to have people over and make new friends. We need to turn off the TV and listen, work together and play together. We need more hours in the day. There's a lot I want to teach him - cooking, living, being, relating. There's a lot I need to remember how to do myself before I can.
Something's gotta change. Something's gotta give. Soon. Before it's too late.
Dead
Please don't expect much spiritual blogging from me anytime soon. I'm struggling with deadness. I don't feel like praying or singing or worshipping or reading or anything. I want to care that I don't feel like it, but I can't.
I tried this weekend to have some God-time, but drew a blank. I tried to visit my old church (while my son's school choir sang) without letting judgement cloud my mind, but I couldn't. I tried to feel something, anything, spiritual - no luck.
So there won't be a lot of spiritual blogging going on until my heart no longer feels like a vacuum surrounded by the thinnest membrane. Or if there is, it may not be worth reading. You have been warned....
I tried this weekend to have some God-time, but drew a blank. I tried to visit my old church (while my son's school choir sang) without letting judgement cloud my mind, but I couldn't. I tried to feel something, anything, spiritual - no luck.
So there won't be a lot of spiritual blogging going on until my heart no longer feels like a vacuum surrounded by the thinnest membrane. Or if there is, it may not be worth reading. You have been warned....
Olympic Fun
A week ago I thought I'd be watching nothing of the Olympics except the opening and closing ceremonies, and what gymnastics they chose to show us. I was wrong...
I love big crowds, countdowns, fireworks and massive sets - and I loved the opening ceremony! It was totally incredible to watch a very-well-put-together programme. Loved the firework effects, racing across the curved parts of the stadium. And that water thing - "took 6 hours to fill, and now it's gone in 3 minutes!" - that was just wow.
And then my son and I decided to stay up and see the highlights of the first day on Saturday night (so much for "live coverage" promised by our TV folk... we ain't getting nothing but highlights, generally speaking). We may become Olympic addicts!
One thing we found quite amusing, along with the rest of South Africa. Two American commentators were speaking during a South Africa vs Ukraine boxing match. The Americans had this to say: "The South African boxer comes from Soweto, where they have no electricity. When the sun goes down he has to stop practicing. He's not used to fighting under the lights like this." Errr... sorry guys, but Soweto happens to be one of the better-lit corners of Darkest Africa...! But thanks for the laugh.
And then came South Africa's first medal last night - and a world record breaking gold one at that! Our men's relay swimmers were completely awesome, edging out the defending champions (Australia) into a no-medal place finish and even beating the USA, both of whom were slated to win. Awesome swim, guys!
I'm looking forward to seeing what the rest of the Olympics dishes up. Hope we can bring in a few more medals before all is said and done.
(Oh yeah, I should also mention we walloped the All Blacks in this weekend's rugby match. Australia up next!)
I love big crowds, countdowns, fireworks and massive sets - and I loved the opening ceremony! It was totally incredible to watch a very-well-put-together programme. Loved the firework effects, racing across the curved parts of the stadium. And that water thing - "took 6 hours to fill, and now it's gone in 3 minutes!" - that was just wow.
And then my son and I decided to stay up and see the highlights of the first day on Saturday night (so much for "live coverage" promised by our TV folk... we ain't getting nothing but highlights, generally speaking). We may become Olympic addicts!
One thing we found quite amusing, along with the rest of South Africa. Two American commentators were speaking during a South Africa vs Ukraine boxing match. The Americans had this to say: "The South African boxer comes from Soweto, where they have no electricity. When the sun goes down he has to stop practicing. He's not used to fighting under the lights like this." Errr... sorry guys, but Soweto happens to be one of the better-lit corners of Darkest Africa...! But thanks for the laugh.
And then came South Africa's first medal last night - and a world record breaking gold one at that! Our men's relay swimmers were completely awesome, edging out the defending champions (Australia) into a no-medal place finish and even beating the USA, both of whom were slated to win. Awesome swim, guys!
I'm looking forward to seeing what the rest of the Olympics dishes up. Hope we can bring in a few more medals before all is said and done.
(Oh yeah, I should also mention we walloped the All Blacks in this weekend's rugby match. Australia up next!)
Shabbat Shalom
I long for a place where life is free
Free to be me,
The real me;
No pretence,
No masks,
No insecurities
No more worrying what other really think about me.
No more in-groups
No more out groups
I long for a place where life is free
Free of hurt and pain,
No more tears
No more sadness and sorrow
No more grief
No more anxiety or fear
No more loneliness, isolation or rejection.
No more ‘bad news’
I long for a place where life is free
Free of violence:
No more wars, or rumours of wars
No terrorism
No hatred
No divorce, disputes or petty arguments
I long for a place where life is free
Free of unfairness,
Where all have the right to life
No diseases, epidemics or terminal illnesses
No hungry children.
No droughts, earth quakes or floods
I long for such a place
Where life can be free
Nick Turnbull(Dec. 2002)- from SacredFuture
Sacred Space
Just been reading Jen's thoughts on Sacred Spaces this morning. Go read it - it's worth it! (and if you're not a regular at her site, become one....). I have to say a big YES to her thoughts - that sometimes all you need is a sacred space to be quiet with God. She mentions old big cathedral-type spaces, and gardens.
I don't have an old big cathedral-type space to retreat to. The churches I know, the ones that will still let me in when they're unlocked, hold too many memories for me to feel a God-connection. Perhaps I need to find one where I'm not known.
But gardens, nature - that I have! And that's where I go when I need to be quiet with God. Granted, my garden isn't more than a few metres square, but it's surrounded by open spaces - the mountain overshadowing me with strength and quiet solidity, False Bay before me with endless blues stretching to the horizon. If I want a break from the neighbours peeking out their windows, there's a field above my house where the only sounds are eagles above and wind shushing through grass and pine below.
I've mentioned before how my soul craves silence, solitude, in my times with God. How the last time I was at church it just seemed so loud that I couldn't even find my soul to offer it to God. Instead I find myself seeking out the quiet, the natural, the God-touch of His creation in my worship and time with Him.
Although I can worship God anywhere, I have this sudden urge to create a sacred spot in my little garden, to place something in a secluded area that will turn my heart and thoughts to God - an "icon" if you will - and indicate a special space just for worship. The potential locations are pretty limited, but it's possible. I've hidden in the ferns before, I can do it again! :)
For our God-time this Sabbath, I'm going to work with my son on visualizing sacred space within our home, within our garden. On creating something that will speak to us of God, something we can place in a special spot among what God has created Himself, something that will help us focus our worship. I have no idea yet what it will look like, but we're going to try.
Big-headed
..not in the sense of being full of myself, but rather being full of a cold and flu (again!). So am off home early, may spend a day vegging out, or not. And if anything I've said today, here or on your blog, offended you, please just ignore it! That's what happens when you can't think straight....
And It Begins...
Last night we got our first episode of "Survivor All Stars". Yeah, we're 3rd world and behind the times, but nobody tell me what happens, OK? :) I had to tape it for my son to watch (he was doing his homework frantically), and we did so over lunchtime a few minutes ago.
Survivor Pearl Islands was the only series I watched from start to finish (and I still prefer Amazing Race, which I've also only watched one series of), so I'm not up on who is who, other than that big fat teddybear Rupert. But I'm getting used to the usual hoopla that surrounds such a series.
I was especially amused today to see the "military escort" in action - with phrases like "switch to high alert" being thrown around and each little speedboat surrounded by tons of military hardware. For heaven's sake - isn't there a border or something you guys should be protecting instead of a group of after-the-money little backstabbers? :) Oh well - these type of series seem to need a lot of dramatics and effects - perhaps to keep the audience's attention? Divert their minds from the fact that these are the meanest folk on the planet and they'll lie, cheat and steal to make it?
All this aside, it will be interesting to see how things pan out. I happen to think Ethan's hunky, and love Rupert's soft heart (usually). That old Navy Seal guy is pretty good for an ancient one too!
So here's to yet another "reality" brainwashing - may it entertain us all!
Survivor Pearl Islands was the only series I watched from start to finish (and I still prefer Amazing Race, which I've also only watched one series of), so I'm not up on who is who, other than that big fat teddybear Rupert. But I'm getting used to the usual hoopla that surrounds such a series.
I was especially amused today to see the "military escort" in action - with phrases like "switch to high alert" being thrown around and each little speedboat surrounded by tons of military hardware. For heaven's sake - isn't there a border or something you guys should be protecting instead of a group of after-the-money little backstabbers? :) Oh well - these type of series seem to need a lot of dramatics and effects - perhaps to keep the audience's attention? Divert their minds from the fact that these are the meanest folk on the planet and they'll lie, cheat and steal to make it?
All this aside, it will be interesting to see how things pan out. I happen to think Ethan's hunky, and love Rupert's soft heart (usually). That old Navy Seal guy is pretty good for an ancient one too!
So here's to yet another "reality" brainwashing - may it entertain us all!
Of (the circus called) Politics
Thanks to Way South, have been reading through the writings of a South African journalist at his Blog "The World". Back in March, he had this to say by way of introduction to a post on our (then) upcoming election:
"In all elections, there are always a few wacky parties with absurd manifestos, desperate no-hopers competing for your vote on the basis of half-arsed appeals to your emotions. It’s just that, in South Africa, those are the major parties like the DA and the NNP rather than small parties campaigning for the legalisation of marijuana."
I'm not into politics. Who stands for what makes little difference to me. Everyone ends up doing the same thing as their predecessors anyway. Too much talk, too little action in general, and dabbling in the politics of other countries tends to get one bombed... But the political comings and goings are always good for a laugh, and as I stated in response to a few of yesterday's comments - us African types tend to use humour as survival strategy when we find ourselves shaking our heads at the latest political / sport / society / media antics. And boy, do we have a lot to shake our heads at! :)
"In all elections, there are always a few wacky parties with absurd manifestos, desperate no-hopers competing for your vote on the basis of half-arsed appeals to your emotions. It’s just that, in South Africa, those are the major parties like the DA and the NNP rather than small parties campaigning for the legalisation of marijuana."
I'm not into politics. Who stands for what makes little difference to me. Everyone ends up doing the same thing as their predecessors anyway. Too much talk, too little action in general, and dabbling in the politics of other countries tends to get one bombed... But the political comings and goings are always good for a laugh, and as I stated in response to a few of yesterday's comments - us African types tend to use humour as survival strategy when we find ourselves shaking our heads at the latest political / sport / society / media antics. And boy, do we have a lot to shake our heads at! :)
Emerging, Institutional, Blah Blah Blah
Yeah, you could take offense at the title of this post. You may just. But bear with me and I'll explain it a bit - and then perhaps you won't.
I've just finished blog-trawling my usual reads for the morning (it used to take half an hour, now takes at least 2 1/2 hours!), and wouldn't you know, a lot of them are arguing about emerging church, post-emerging church, institutional church, no church at all. Not like it's a new topic - it's been going on and on for ages!
Now I can fully understand the need to thrash out all the issues (heck, I do a lot of it right here myself), but a part of me wants to shout "Stop the issue-picking and just get on with the living it out bit, will ya! Oh, and tell us how it's working - practically!".
Us humans like to get nit-picking. Give us an issue and we'll debate it from all angles until we've forgotten what the issue is all about. We jump into pulling things apart with relish. But we can get so caught up in the analyzing that we never get around to practicing what we're preaching.
OK, in all fairness, those who've blogged about the various church things generally ARE practicing it. But where are their stories about what's happened today as they live out what they're standing for? Where are the goose-bump God-working experiences that you can't help but share? Where are the "today I found God in a homeless man I spent hours talking to" or the "you know what? God's working big-time in the neighbour I always just say hi to over the fence"? Where's the battle-field victory stories, where are the great stories that make us want more of that too? Where are the falls and the speed-bumps as human nature hits God-nature?
I guess I'm hardly one to talk, so I'd better shut up now.
I've just finished blog-trawling my usual reads for the morning (it used to take half an hour, now takes at least 2 1/2 hours!), and wouldn't you know, a lot of them are arguing about emerging church, post-emerging church, institutional church, no church at all. Not like it's a new topic - it's been going on and on for ages!
Now I can fully understand the need to thrash out all the issues (heck, I do a lot of it right here myself), but a part of me wants to shout "Stop the issue-picking and just get on with the living it out bit, will ya! Oh, and tell us how it's working - practically!".
Us humans like to get nit-picking. Give us an issue and we'll debate it from all angles until we've forgotten what the issue is all about. We jump into pulling things apart with relish. But we can get so caught up in the analyzing that we never get around to practicing what we're preaching.
OK, in all fairness, those who've blogged about the various church things generally ARE practicing it. But where are their stories about what's happened today as they live out what they're standing for? Where are the goose-bump God-working experiences that you can't help but share? Where are the "today I found God in a homeless man I spent hours talking to" or the "you know what? God's working big-time in the neighbour I always just say hi to over the fence"? Where's the battle-field victory stories, where are the great stories that make us want more of that too? Where are the falls and the speed-bumps as human nature hits God-nature?
I guess I'm hardly one to talk, so I'd better shut up now.
Celebration!
I've realized I don't celebrate enough. It's more like just existing most days. Maybe it's the advancing spirit of Spring, but I want to rejoice in good things more, entertain fun people, throw parties and revel in life.
To that end, I thought I'd find one thing each day to celebrate. I could go with the unofficial list of Everything-Day (today is "Lazy Day", tomorrow will be "Presidential Joke Day" etc.), but I don't know any presidential jokes, living or dead (though I only know OF a couple...).
I haven't found something to celebrate today yet. Perhaps it should be Celebrate My Nose day - it won't stop running and sneezing, so it's getting a lot of attention. Or First Leaves on the White Mulberry Tree day (we have yet to see any white mulberries, but hope they'll appear this year). After a few days of rain, it could be Sun Day (but it's already Tuesday).
So.... what should I celebrate today?
To that end, I thought I'd find one thing each day to celebrate. I could go with the unofficial list of Everything-Day (today is "Lazy Day", tomorrow will be "Presidential Joke Day" etc.), but I don't know any presidential jokes, living or dead (though I only know OF a couple...).
I haven't found something to celebrate today yet. Perhaps it should be Celebrate My Nose day - it won't stop running and sneezing, so it's getting a lot of attention. Or First Leaves on the White Mulberry Tree day (we have yet to see any white mulberries, but hope they'll appear this year). After a few days of rain, it could be Sun Day (but it's already Tuesday).
So.... what should I celebrate today?
De-Institutionalizing Dilemma
I spent a part of my Sabbath this weekend reading some thoughts from Jack Grey in New Zealand on his search for the church. There are a couple of things that stood out, and that have me in a bit of a quandry:
1. "Do not leave the institutional church unless you hear a clear call", "stay until you clearly hear 'get out' ", "It is solely when our coming out is one of obedience to the heavenly call that we have the strong assurance that the Lord is with us. Any other basis of leaving may see you on your own and struggling to survive."
But where does that leave folk like me who don't usually hear anything at all from God, especially not very clearly? Can I do this on a hunch, a feeling that it's not right to stay, that I can no longer be a part of things I find distressingly wrong (at least for me)?
2. "...some who no longer go to church are simply wanderers. They have no clear view of the goal. They are spiritual vagrants...".
If I don't have a goal yet, am I a wanderer? Is it then not OK to simply rest and wait and see what happens next?
3. " 'If we abandon the institutional church, how are Christians to be fed? How are new believers to be nurtured?' These are questions which people constantly raise with me, and they are valid queries. God has provided in His House through His Son and by the Holy Spirit everything required for supplying His children with the bread He knows they need."
But I feel underfed and disconnected and don't know how to go about asking for food, or how to even begin this on my own. I have such a long way to go that I don't know if I'll ever even get to the start of it, to the part where I can feel myself slowly being fed.
4. "So now, when people ask me the inevitable question, "Where do you fellowship?" I answer with joy,"Wherever and whenever two or three are gathered together in His name." "
I like this one! I'm building up a nice database of responses to those who don't understand the journey I'm on. This one is now officially added to my list! Provided I can answer the other questions I'm having...
5. "Outside of organised church those who do not have a vital living growing relationship with the Lord Jesus quickly fall away. Inside the organisation the stimulation of being part of a crowd, the emotional uplift of congregational singing and other group activities may be sufficient to make good church members, but if the props are pulled out only a genuine relationship with Jesus will ensure survival."
This one bothers me the most of all. I can't seem to develop that relationship. I feel cold inside and unresponsive - passion I'm missing for so long already. So it seems I'll fall away if this doesn't come right soon. Which means the only place for me may be in the institutional structure after all - but that was killing me sufficiently to make me leave. Stuck between a rock and a very hard place!
There are many things I've read that resonate with me, that induce a big AMEN!, but some have just raised more doubt and questioning than I had before... It will be a while before I've sorted through this one.
1. "Do not leave the institutional church unless you hear a clear call", "stay until you clearly hear 'get out' ", "It is solely when our coming out is one of obedience to the heavenly call that we have the strong assurance that the Lord is with us. Any other basis of leaving may see you on your own and struggling to survive."
But where does that leave folk like me who don't usually hear anything at all from God, especially not very clearly? Can I do this on a hunch, a feeling that it's not right to stay, that I can no longer be a part of things I find distressingly wrong (at least for me)?
2. "...some who no longer go to church are simply wanderers. They have no clear view of the goal. They are spiritual vagrants...".
If I don't have a goal yet, am I a wanderer? Is it then not OK to simply rest and wait and see what happens next?
3. " 'If we abandon the institutional church, how are Christians to be fed? How are new believers to be nurtured?' These are questions which people constantly raise with me, and they are valid queries. God has provided in His House through His Son and by the Holy Spirit everything required for supplying His children with the bread He knows they need."
But I feel underfed and disconnected and don't know how to go about asking for food, or how to even begin this on my own. I have such a long way to go that I don't know if I'll ever even get to the start of it, to the part where I can feel myself slowly being fed.
4. "So now, when people ask me the inevitable question, "Where do you fellowship?" I answer with joy,"Wherever and whenever two or three are gathered together in His name." "
I like this one! I'm building up a nice database of responses to those who don't understand the journey I'm on. This one is now officially added to my list! Provided I can answer the other questions I'm having...
5. "Outside of organised church those who do not have a vital living growing relationship with the Lord Jesus quickly fall away. Inside the organisation the stimulation of being part of a crowd, the emotional uplift of congregational singing and other group activities may be sufficient to make good church members, but if the props are pulled out only a genuine relationship with Jesus will ensure survival."
This one bothers me the most of all. I can't seem to develop that relationship. I feel cold inside and unresponsive - passion I'm missing for so long already. So it seems I'll fall away if this doesn't come right soon. Which means the only place for me may be in the institutional structure after all - but that was killing me sufficiently to make me leave. Stuck between a rock and a very hard place!
There are many things I've read that resonate with me, that induce a big AMEN!, but some have just raised more doubt and questioning than I had before... It will be a while before I've sorted through this one.
The Only Reality
Being an indoors long weekend (it rained constantly!), I generally only got to stare at the great outdoors through a couple of windows in dire need of spring cleaning.
And at one stage of this mindless persuit, I had one of those strange thoughts that flash into the brain at random. This was it:
God's creation is the only REAL reality.
Profound? Not exactly. But think about it. How many great civilizations have risen, built and multiplied, then disappeared under the sands of the desert, or the vines of a jungle, or just crumbled away into the dust they were created from. How much of our time is spent maintaining our buildings against the natural consequences of what God has created taking back the land they are due? Take us destructive humans out the picture, give it a few thousand years, and this place would be back to natural, generally speaking.
Or take the percieved realities we create around us - the high-flying jobs, the gadgets and toys, the houses built to impress. Heck, we even create virtual nature by screensavers and soundscapes, while the real thing is just outside the window. And the not-real stuff we create for ourselves can just as easily disappear under God's greenery, an upsurge of ground water or the unpredictable forces of a storm as did civilizations of old.
In my grandparent's garden is a huge slab of slate, hauled up from the river, which has this little poem on it:
The kiss of the sun for pardon,
The song of the birds for mirth
One is nearer God's heart in a garden
Than anywhere else on Earth!
Is it any wonder that I feel closer to God outside, in His great outdoors, than in a man-made, due-to-crumble building? That I prefer sun on my face than an airconditioned heat? That getting my fingers deep into rich loamy soil brings my soul closer to God? That a walk in the field with the creatures He's blessed me with is better stress relief than anything else I know?
I have a soul that longs for daily contact with what God has provided. A heart that yearns for simple living in His creation, working with Him to provide daily needs and drawing on the strengths He gives through this process of trust and labour. I find myself caught up in "modern" living too often - burned out by artificial lighting and mindless entertainment, trapped into slavery by something they call money, constricted by walls that feel like they're closing in, bound in a battle to live up to expectations instead of living in rhythm with the pulse of life around me.
And lately my worship springs from time with God in his creation, more and more. I eagerly anticipate the spring and summer days when I can spend time talking to God in the warmth of sunshine with new life bursting from tree and bud around me. Already there are stirrings of tender shoots, and with each one I feel a prayer rise from my soul, a breath of praise let out as easily as I inhale the rain-fresh air. Every seed planted is a giving over of my trust that God is in control and will make all things grow in their season - even me.
Being in tune with God is being in tune with His creation in its simplicity, beauty and wonder. It's REAL living.
::update::
Dan has similar thoughts in a recent post.
And at one stage of this mindless persuit, I had one of those strange thoughts that flash into the brain at random. This was it:
God's creation is the only REAL reality.
Profound? Not exactly. But think about it. How many great civilizations have risen, built and multiplied, then disappeared under the sands of the desert, or the vines of a jungle, or just crumbled away into the dust they were created from. How much of our time is spent maintaining our buildings against the natural consequences of what God has created taking back the land they are due? Take us destructive humans out the picture, give it a few thousand years, and this place would be back to natural, generally speaking.
Or take the percieved realities we create around us - the high-flying jobs, the gadgets and toys, the houses built to impress. Heck, we even create virtual nature by screensavers and soundscapes, while the real thing is just outside the window. And the not-real stuff we create for ourselves can just as easily disappear under God's greenery, an upsurge of ground water or the unpredictable forces of a storm as did civilizations of old.
In my grandparent's garden is a huge slab of slate, hauled up from the river, which has this little poem on it:
The kiss of the sun for pardon,
The song of the birds for mirth
One is nearer God's heart in a garden
Than anywhere else on Earth!
Is it any wonder that I feel closer to God outside, in His great outdoors, than in a man-made, due-to-crumble building? That I prefer sun on my face than an airconditioned heat? That getting my fingers deep into rich loamy soil brings my soul closer to God? That a walk in the field with the creatures He's blessed me with is better stress relief than anything else I know?
I have a soul that longs for daily contact with what God has provided. A heart that yearns for simple living in His creation, working with Him to provide daily needs and drawing on the strengths He gives through this process of trust and labour. I find myself caught up in "modern" living too often - burned out by artificial lighting and mindless entertainment, trapped into slavery by something they call money, constricted by walls that feel like they're closing in, bound in a battle to live up to expectations instead of living in rhythm with the pulse of life around me.
And lately my worship springs from time with God in his creation, more and more. I eagerly anticipate the spring and summer days when I can spend time talking to God in the warmth of sunshine with new life bursting from tree and bud around me. Already there are stirrings of tender shoots, and with each one I feel a prayer rise from my soul, a breath of praise let out as easily as I inhale the rain-fresh air. Every seed planted is a giving over of my trust that God is in control and will make all things grow in their season - even me.
Being in tune with God is being in tune with His creation in its simplicity, beauty and wonder. It's REAL living.
::update::
Dan has similar thoughts in a recent post.
The Real You
Everyone knows me as Michelle. When they call out that name and I'm around, I respond to it - along with any other Michelle that might be in the vicinity... (there were 5 of us in the dorm in high school, which caused a lot of confusion when Michelle was asked to come to the phone!)
But sometimes, and perhaps it's just me, it feels like that's not really my name. Like I'm not actually a Michelle, but something else. Say your own name over 20 times and it will start sounding strange to you too! Associate characteristics with your name and those of others who share your name, and you start feeling like it's not really you. Like you should have a different name, but it's not one you can think of in spite of having the Big Book of Names in hand.
Then, a while ago, I read something Max Lucado wrote, "When God whispers your name". He says that in heaven God will give each of us a new name, our true name, one that will fit us perfectly (I know there's a text for this somewhere, but not being too good at quoting, I can't find it right now).
I really like that. I can't wait to hear what my new name is, a name that will reflect everything I am, the real me. It will be unique to me, no-one else will have the same name in all of heaven. I don't know the language of heaven, but I look forward to hearing God whisper that single name into my new-for-eternity ears and feel it settle just right into my soul.
But sometimes, and perhaps it's just me, it feels like that's not really my name. Like I'm not actually a Michelle, but something else. Say your own name over 20 times and it will start sounding strange to you too! Associate characteristics with your name and those of others who share your name, and you start feeling like it's not really you. Like you should have a different name, but it's not one you can think of in spite of having the Big Book of Names in hand.
Then, a while ago, I read something Max Lucado wrote, "When God whispers your name". He says that in heaven God will give each of us a new name, our true name, one that will fit us perfectly (I know there's a text for this somewhere, but not being too good at quoting, I can't find it right now).
I really like that. I can't wait to hear what my new name is, a name that will reflect everything I am, the real me. It will be unique to me, no-one else will have the same name in all of heaven. I don't know the language of heaven, but I look forward to hearing God whisper that single name into my new-for-eternity ears and feel it settle just right into my soul.
Shabbat Shalom
Let there be peace...
...on earth
...in me
...within my boss (and let them successfully remove his tumor)
...found in the solitude and silence I crave this weekend
...with my hands deep in the rich earth of my garden and the beauty You've created
...in my son - Lord, be close to him and show me how to teach him of You
A Better Blogger
Next week I will be a better blogger (but not on Monday - it's a holiday and I am due in the garden, armed with the ingredients for our potential summer crops and spring flower beds). Circumstances have ripped my day apart and kept me from my addiction.
But yesterday was pure delight - lying in bed all day in a darkened room with the rain pouring down outside. The perfect sick day.
Unfortunately not everyone had a good day - this is Cape Town after the Big Downpour.
But yesterday was pure delight - lying in bed all day in a darkened room with the rain pouring down outside. The perfect sick day.
Unfortunately not everyone had a good day - this is Cape Town after the Big Downpour.
Not all here
I'm not quite OK today - probably coming down with flu or something. Which makes it hard to get anything out of my brain and off into cyberspace (at least anything that makes sense and doesn't offend anyone too badly). So I'm going home shortly to rest up and finish watching City of Angels. I'm also busy watching Face Off - and am amazed that Nicholas Cage can play an angel in one and a totally evil dude in the other, so easily. I guess that's the mark of a good actor!
It's a good day for being sick - cold front moving in, high winds and rain threatening. But at the same time I have to resist the urge NOT to rest - I've borrowed a carpet-cleaning machine and am half-way through transforming my little flat into something worth having folk over for.
While here, I've been listening to the trance-type "music" I've downloaded for my son. It's really trippy stuff! Like being on drugs without having to take them. Made even worse by being unwell. Turn off the lights, add a bit of dubious-smelling smoke and some strange images on the wall, and I can see how you can go off in a literal trance on this stuff! Perhaps I shouldn't be listening to it while sick....
So - back another day to blog. This is it for today.
It's a good day for being sick - cold front moving in, high winds and rain threatening. But at the same time I have to resist the urge NOT to rest - I've borrowed a carpet-cleaning machine and am half-way through transforming my little flat into something worth having folk over for.
While here, I've been listening to the trance-type "music" I've downloaded for my son. It's really trippy stuff! Like being on drugs without having to take them. Made even worse by being unwell. Turn off the lights, add a bit of dubious-smelling smoke and some strange images on the wall, and I can see how you can go off in a literal trance on this stuff! Perhaps I shouldn't be listening to it while sick....
So - back another day to blog. This is it for today.
ROTK Engrish!
I was wrong - I DO have something to blog about today (or link to).
First we had Engrish for The Fellowship of the Ring, then The Two Towers, and now, presenting Return of the King Engrish!
(By the way, our college gymnastics team is holding a Lord of the Rings Marathon this Monday to raise funds at R65 for all 3 shows. Anyone in the Strand/Somerset West area? Contact me if you're interested!)
First we had Engrish for The Fellowship of the Ring, then The Two Towers, and now, presenting Return of the King Engrish!
(By the way, our college gymnastics team is holding a Lord of the Rings Marathon this Monday to raise funds at R65 for all 3 shows. Anyone in the Strand/Somerset West area? Contact me if you're interested!)
Random Thoughts
Don't have anything substantial to blog about today - so here, have a few random thoughts instead:
* I've just been downloading some electronica/trance type stuff for my son, who seems to be developing into a bit of a clubhead... So far it's all from one artist, Automate. Love the way he/she develops each track, layering on sounds and rhythms. Will put it all on a CD soon for the boy, then probably go make a few more from other artists.
* I bear scratches, a broken nail and sore limbs from my first-ever grave-digging experience. I won't be taking it up as a career (at least I hope not!). But my Spinney's grave is deep enough, covered over with rocks and branches to prevent any other animal getting at her, and topped with the very last deep-red rose in my garden. May she rest in utter peace.
* Been wondering if I'll ever find a place where I fit in. I feel like the kind of traveller that passes through a town, stops for a while, but knows they're not there forever. Folk might admire their journey, or they may criticize it. The traveller may find bits that remind her of home, but it's not home. I've been struggling to fit in at the church I attend (Baptist) and at the place where I work (Seventh-day Adventist run). There's stuff that bugs me in either place, makes me feel like an outsider. I can't go back to how things were. I've changed. Perhaps the only place I'll ever truly fit in is not of this world (but will I fit in there?).
* I'm making tentative plans for a very long road-trip. North. I want to see the Richtersveld, the Augrabies Falls and canyon, the semi-arid desert areas there with stark, amazing landscapes. My son wants to hunt for crystals and minerals, I want to get out my camera and see what I can capture. And we'll stop by that volcano we've wanted to see on the way there.
* I need a holiday. 'nuf said.
* I've just been downloading some electronica/trance type stuff for my son, who seems to be developing into a bit of a clubhead... So far it's all from one artist, Automate. Love the way he/she develops each track, layering on sounds and rhythms. Will put it all on a CD soon for the boy, then probably go make a few more from other artists.
* I bear scratches, a broken nail and sore limbs from my first-ever grave-digging experience. I won't be taking it up as a career (at least I hope not!). But my Spinney's grave is deep enough, covered over with rocks and branches to prevent any other animal getting at her, and topped with the very last deep-red rose in my garden. May she rest in utter peace.
* Been wondering if I'll ever find a place where I fit in. I feel like the kind of traveller that passes through a town, stops for a while, but knows they're not there forever. Folk might admire their journey, or they may criticize it. The traveller may find bits that remind her of home, but it's not home. I've been struggling to fit in at the church I attend (Baptist) and at the place where I work (Seventh-day Adventist run). There's stuff that bugs me in either place, makes me feel like an outsider. I can't go back to how things were. I've changed. Perhaps the only place I'll ever truly fit in is not of this world (but will I fit in there?).
* I'm making tentative plans for a very long road-trip. North. I want to see the Richtersveld, the Augrabies Falls and canyon, the semi-arid desert areas there with stark, amazing landscapes. My son wants to hunt for crystals and minerals, I want to get out my camera and see what I can capture. And we'll stop by that volcano we've wanted to see on the way there.
* I need a holiday. 'nuf said.
Spam, Prayers and Poison
I'm getting more and more in the line of spam emails these days. Our work server is supposed to stop it, but it doesn't - instead it stops the stuff that SHOULD come through!
But I'm going to try this little thingy, via various folk in blogworld:
Fight Spam! Click Here!
And then am going to sit down and consider whether my prayers are spam....
But I'm going to try this little thingy, via various folk in blogworld:
Fight Spam! Click Here!
And then am going to sit down and consider whether my prayers are spam....
10,000!
Sometime over the weekend, my site had it's 10,000th visit. WOW! I thought that would take at least a year to achieve. Unfortunately I have no way of knowing who it was that was number 10,000 or there'd be a batch of chocolate brownies on its way to you right now.
Thanks to all who stop by for taking the time to do so. I've gotten to know some awesome folk since I started blogging in October last year. I've been challenged and had the warm fuzzies, found soul-twins and people completely opposite to me.
So far it's a pretty good ride! You can count on me blogging for a while yet.
Thanks to all who stop by for taking the time to do so. I've gotten to know some awesome folk since I started blogging in October last year. I've been challenged and had the warm fuzzies, found soul-twins and people completely opposite to me.
So far it's a pretty good ride! You can count on me blogging for a while yet.
At your service
I was at your church service last night for the first time in a month. I'd forgotten how loud it is. I'd forgotten that sitting in the back row is dramatically different to being on stage - and that the young guys in the back row spend the service playing with their cellphones.
Last night I wanted to offer myself in worship to God. I wanted to learn what it is to bring myself as a living sacrifice. But in all the noise I couldn't. I couldn't even find my soul. I wanted some sacred space, some quiet, to be still and know God. But we rushed from one agenda item to the next. The two "worship" songs didn't allow the space to connect - though perhaps some in the congregation did. I saw a lot of hands raised and eyes closed as the rest of the people sang "draw me close to you". But I wasn't one of them. I love that song - but last night I just simply couldn't let myself feel it, use it as a prayer.
I used to love the hype and energy, the relaxed come-in-your-jeans atmosphere, the band rocking on. But perhaps I'm getting old. Lately I crave stillness and a small Voice, alone or within the crowd. I want to turn away from the spotlights and focuse on one Light. I want more depth than just a re-reading, a re-telling of a well-known Bible story (complete with a list of 3 life applications to end with).
I wasn't sure if I could come back next week, even though it looks like the drama group "putting on the show" is going to be great.
But then you put your arms around me and said I'd been missed. Not just one of you, but many of you. And for that, I may be back. For that, I may endure the service one more time.
Last night I wanted to offer myself in worship to God. I wanted to learn what it is to bring myself as a living sacrifice. But in all the noise I couldn't. I couldn't even find my soul. I wanted some sacred space, some quiet, to be still and know God. But we rushed from one agenda item to the next. The two "worship" songs didn't allow the space to connect - though perhaps some in the congregation did. I saw a lot of hands raised and eyes closed as the rest of the people sang "draw me close to you". But I wasn't one of them. I love that song - but last night I just simply couldn't let myself feel it, use it as a prayer.
I used to love the hype and energy, the relaxed come-in-your-jeans atmosphere, the band rocking on. But perhaps I'm getting old. Lately I crave stillness and a small Voice, alone or within the crowd. I want to turn away from the spotlights and focuse on one Light. I want more depth than just a re-reading, a re-telling of a well-known Bible story (complete with a list of 3 life applications to end with).
I wasn't sure if I could come back next week, even though it looks like the drama group "putting on the show" is going to be great.
But then you put your arms around me and said I'd been missed. Not just one of you, but many of you. And for that, I may be back. For that, I may endure the service one more time.
Spinney
In loving memory of my lapdog, my happy-smiley girl Spinney (1996? - 1 August 2004)
When I rescued you, I promised this would be your forever home. No more being passed along to people who didn't love your sparkle, recognize your sensitive soul, treat you like one of the family. I worried that I wouldn't be able to fulfil that promise - that a move to Australia would leave you with yet another home to adjust to. But I have fulfilled my promise. Last night you died in my arms. I was so sad to see you go, and I tried desperately to revive you. But you were gone. At peace now, no more problems from old age and illness. You're running free over the Rainbow Bridge. Oh Lord, I hope you will be there when I arrive in heaven!
Later today I'll bury the shell of you, the part you left behind. I'm going to let you rest deep beneath the roots of a tree you loved to explore - hunting mice and moles beneath its shade. You will lie undisturbed there in the tranquility of nature, with a view to die for (I know you'd appreciate the pun).
My Spins, I'm going to miss you so very much. I'm going to miss waking up to your heavy breathing (we nicknamed you Xtra Large Panty, after you put on a bit of weight). I'm going to miss you gazing with adoration into my eyes, your begging for "blessings from above", and running to me as soon as you hear me open the fridge door for cheese. I'm going to miss seeing you bound like a rabbit on springs through long grass and follow your nose to the freshest mole-hole where you'll dig for it like crazy. I'm going to miss your voice raised in a "come back" howl when I leave for work in the morning. And my peanut-butter sandwich (one brown dog between two white ones) is now one slice short.
When I rescued you, I promised this would be your forever home. No more being passed along to people who didn't love your sparkle, recognize your sensitive soul, treat you like one of the family. I worried that I wouldn't be able to fulfil that promise - that a move to Australia would leave you with yet another home to adjust to. But I have fulfilled my promise. Last night you died in my arms. I was so sad to see you go, and I tried desperately to revive you. But you were gone. At peace now, no more problems from old age and illness. You're running free over the Rainbow Bridge. Oh Lord, I hope you will be there when I arrive in heaven!
Later today I'll bury the shell of you, the part you left behind. I'm going to let you rest deep beneath the roots of a tree you loved to explore - hunting mice and moles beneath its shade. You will lie undisturbed there in the tranquility of nature, with a view to die for (I know you'd appreciate the pun).
My Spins, I'm going to miss you so very much. I'm going to miss waking up to your heavy breathing (we nicknamed you Xtra Large Panty, after you put on a bit of weight). I'm going to miss you gazing with adoration into my eyes, your begging for "blessings from above", and running to me as soon as you hear me open the fridge door for cheese. I'm going to miss seeing you bound like a rabbit on springs through long grass and follow your nose to the freshest mole-hole where you'll dig for it like crazy. I'm going to miss your voice raised in a "come back" howl when I leave for work in the morning. And my peanut-butter sandwich (one brown dog between two white ones) is now one slice short.
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