Showing posts with label the Universe. Show all posts
Showing posts with label the Universe. Show all posts

Thursday, January 17, 2019

God Can't: A book review


by Thomas Jay Oord
SacraSage Publishing, 2019

For the last few years, a group of people from my church have hosted a theology discussion group. It meets every summer, and we invite people with expertise in theology and philosophy to share with us on a theological/philosophical topics. Several of our members teach at one of our local Christian universities, and between them and the network of people they know, we have had a wealth of perspectives on topics ranging from Open Theism to Pacifism to Violence in the Old Testament and so on. These summer discussions have been very formative for me. One significant effect of these discussions is learning how many very different views there are of what the Bible has to say on many, many subjects. I don’t always agree with what our speakers have to say, but I have learned to listen and engage with many different ideas without feeling threatened by them.

I say this because God Can’t by Thomas Jay Oord will most definitely make some people uncomfortable. He is well aware his premise there are things that God cannot do pushes against long-held conventional beliefs about the nature of God.

I heard Tom speak last February and again last June about the topics he writes about in God Can’t. I had lots of questions for him, the most significant one being if what you say is true, how should I pray? He responds to that question and many others in this book to reach anyone who has ever been through difficult times and was not satisfied with others’ response as to why God “let” this happen or God “made” this happen.

The book is directly and thoughtfully written, born out of a desire to help those affected by the evils of this world. Tom brings a wealth of both scholarship and lived experience to his message. Several times I found myself writing down questions in the margin only to have him address those very questions later in the book. He also provides questions at the end of each chapter for reflection or group discussion. My personal recommendation is to read the book one section at a time. Wrestle with each chapter before moving on to the next. I also suggest reading it and discussing it with others in a group setting. As Tom uses his own and the experiences of others as examples, the experiences of others in a group setting can be beneficial to absorbing the concepts in God Can’t. Finally, I encourage you to look through the chapter questions before reading the chapter. Not every question provided will work as a pre-reading reflection, but a lot of them will. I think in doing so, you will be more prepared for his assertions as he makes them.

I want to leave you with one of his ideas that is resonating most with me having finished the book: God needs our cooperation to make a difference in this world. In chapter five, Tom quotes Teresa of Avila,

Christ has no body but yours,
No hands no feet on earth but yours,
Yours are the eyes with which he looks compassion on this world
Yours are the feet with which he walks to do good,
Yours are the hands with which he blesses all the world.
Yours are the hands, yours are the feet,
Yours are the eyes, you are his body.

Tom does not suggest this in a literal way. Instead, he says, “the Spirit who has no physical frame calls us to use pour physicality to express God’s love. Like a mind influencing a body without controlling it, God influences us” (p. 157). When we listen to that influence, we have an impact on the world around us. That idea calls to my spirit. God not only loves me, But He also needs me, and I can work with Him to make the world a better place.

I can’t guarantee you will agree with Tom’s vision of God’s character and how that impacts how we understand the terrible things that happen to us. I can assure you will think about your beliefs about it.

God Can’t is available for purchase now in bookstores. Currently, the ebook format is only available for Kindle. However, it will soon be available in all ebook formats.

Sunday, January 24, 2010

Um... er...

Well, it's been almost three months since I've written anything here. I think that is a clear sign that it is time for me to hang a "Closed Until Further Notice" sign up.

I WANT to write but there is just too much going on.

I will tell you that my experiment in self-binding (see last post) was successful. I finished my master's project and now have a M.S. in Education, Reading. I am also teaching four classes this spring--two at the community college and two at the state university. With that load, I seriously doubt I will have time to write here.

You can find me on Twitter (www.twitter.com/MaryLUE). I have a protected account, so you will have to ask me to approve you. I am also blogging every other Monday at Sleeping with Bread, my blog for doing a form of the Examen.

It's been great, but sometimes you have to take a break from writing about Life, the Universe, and Everything to experience Life, the Universe, and Everything.

Until some unknown time in the future. . .

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

the Universe (Well, not really...)

My last post was about Life. I had intended to write a more complete post about Life, the Universe and Everything but all I could squeak out was the little bit of Life.

And I've been thinking since then that I would try to write this next post about the Universe... and then a post about Everything. But there is a wee problem with that...

Right now my Universe is just so small. All I can see are the proverbial trees and not the forest. There is so much going on right now... issues over health care reform... H1N1 flu preparedness... the continuing recession... and that's just the U.S. I don't have the energy, though, to think too much about those issues. In some part, that is due to how emotionally charged the Internet is. If I were to really try to write about the Universe these days, it would probably have more to do with incivility, a determined mindset to outsnark those who think/act/believe differently from you, the demonizing of "the other," a general unwillingness to ask questions... and most of all, a complete abundance of Absolute Certainty. It exhausts me--all this Certainty.

I am living with too many certainties... including those age old favorites: death and taxes. I received a long, long document from the lawyer for my mom's estate. I haven't been able to make myself go through it yet. I've just peeked at it enough to see that I need three years of tax returns for my mom--but she didn't keep any of those records. I have to set up a separate bank account in the name of the estate--but there's no money to put in it. When I set my mind to these issue, my body rebels. I feel a tightening in my chest, a queasiness in my stomach. I get a very clear picture of an ostrich with its head firmly buried in the ground.

All that and the pressure of deadlines for grad school... kids who need their mother to be emotionally present... the ongoing challenges of my father's estate... a house that's fit for How Clean is Your House... knees that have gone wonky, preventing me from doing any real amount of exercise.

And I cannot STAND writing about all this... because I think I sound like a big, whiny child... because I am feeling so crappy about it all that I cannot balance it--like I usually can--with the sunny side of things. I function in two modes: Denial or Depression. (Before I get a bunch of worried comments and emails, I HAVE started seeing a therapist--just last week.)

I KNOW things will get better. I KNOW this is all temporary. This knowledge comes from two things: my Faith in Christ and my previous experience when Life has overwhelmed me. I know that however long it takes, it will just be a portion of my life--not the entirety of it.

In the meantime, the Universe will have to wait.

Tuesday, December 16, 2008

Sleeping with Bread: the Highs and Lows of Parenting

The Highs...

A few weeks ago, I shared the drama\trama that was The Class Play. Marley was cast in a role that she did not like and there was much weeping (hers) and gnashing of teeth (mine). A lot of listening, some "discussion," and one bribe later and Marley was willing to give it a go.

Last week we witnessed the fruits of our efforts to persuade and her hard work. There were six performances of the play. Marley did very well and a couple of moms actually came up to her and told her that she and her fictional son were their favorite part of the play. Of course they whispered this to her because they didn't want her own kids to hear their disloyalty.

It was an exhausting week to be perfectly honest. Getting Marley in and out of her costume and helping with mics... then having getting to watch the show for all six performances. (They did do a great job, but still--six times is at least four too many.)  I am very proud of her though.  She did her German accent and hysterical mommy of a chocolate fudge boy bit very well.  She knew her lines and blocking.  She endured having medical tape applied and removed multiple times. (It hurts!) It really was hard work.

I'm posting a couple of pictures. I didn't get too many but when I get more from other parents I'll ask permission to share. The kindergarteners and first graders are a must see. The kinders were candy and the first graders were the Oompa-Loompas. You will just die from all the cuteness.

Mrs. Gloop and her little snausage-vausage,
Augustus in front of the vat of chocolate.


Marley gets her mic checked.  She was being a little silly because
the sound guy wanted her to do jumping jacks.  This was before the second morning's performance and the kids were a little tired.


You can see why I don't have more pictures of my kids. 
This is their attitude toward having their pictures taken.
We did not get through the week without bribes
of chewing gum and soda in exchange for smiles.


the Lows...

In very, very sad news, we lost a member of our church this past week. His death was sudden and unexpected and it has left many of his friends in shock and sadness. Although I have known J. for years, I wasn't really more than an acquaintance. He was friends with many of my friends, though. I knew his parents years ago at our old church. As a parent, I cannot help but think about how I would feel if it were my child who died.

J. was supposed to play drums at church this past Sunday and so there was an empty drum kit that served as an extra reminder of our loss. The theme for this Sunday was Love for the second week of Advent. (We are a week off the regular schedule, I think.) I had been asked to do the Scripture reading and a meditation. I was somewhat at a loss for words but was able to find a passage from a book that had some words appropriate to both Advent and the loss.

I am thinking of J.s friends and family every day. I hope that the they are able to find comfort in each other and God at this time. I know loss... but not one as close as this one is to them. My heart aches for them, truly. I am also extremely grateful to have my family with me, safe and sound.

I'll end this with a particular Scripture that came up multiple times on Sunday. Without any discussion or coordination, it was in one of the songs we sang, in my meditation and in the communion meditation. I've been in a King James kind of mood so I'll use that version, from Romans 8:38-39...

For I am persuaded that neither death nor life, nor angels nor principalities nor powers, nor things present nor things to come, nor height nor depth, nor any other created thing, shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Saturday, November 01, 2008

Theory to Practice

This semester I am taking a class called The Diagnostic-Prescriptive Model of Teaching Reading. Its premise is that the appropriate assessment of students with reading difficulties (diagnostics) can then allow the teacher to address reading problems more precisely (prescription).

The class is a lot of work. At the beginning of the semester, I was assigned a student. Each week I spend time administering assessments and tutoring her in areas of word recognition, fluency, vocabulary, comprehension, etc. I then spend two to three hours in lecture and discussion. During the week, there are chapters to read, lessons to prepare, and theory to practice cards to write.

Theory to practice. This is a difficulty for me. Not the actual theory to practice cards. Those are really still theoretical in nature. Pick a topic (sight words, meaning vocabulary, etc.), write down the research and some practical classroom applications for both large and small groups.

No, it is the actual theory to practice that is distressing me. Each week as I prepare my lesson plan, I worry and fret over the choices I am making. Will this work? Will that work? Am I helping her? Almost every week in my reflection journal (oh yeah, more work), I express my lack of confidence.

Ironically, as I have been reading my chapters today, I was comforted by the text itself. There were two main ideas which helped. One directed at students and one directed at teachers. First, there was the idea that self-concept (the educational term for what most of us would call self-esteem) is not improved through praise but through self-efficacy. As students have success and make progress, their self-concept increases, which in turn increases their motivation, and so on and so on. I think it is good that I am concerned about my ability to tutor a struggling reader. I have no practical experience to this point. I am going to make mistakes. It is supposed to be difficult. Yet, as I get feedback from my instructor, make mistakes, have successes, I will get better at it and feel better about how I am doing.  It's why I am in school... to learn something.

Next, there were these words written to the reader:

Academic courses and texts can merely set one on the path to professional competence. Becoming a "strategic teacher" is a lifelong developmental process. in time, veteran teachers reflect wisdom as well as academic knowledge in their instructional and management decisions. (Manzo, Manzo & Albee)

It is helpful for me to be reminded that what I am trying to do is difficult, is worth doing well, and that it does not happen overnight. And if they are writing this in the textbook, I am obviously not the sole student who needs to know this.  I know more and can do more now than I could at the beginning of the semester. In five years, I will know more and be able to do more as an instructor than I can do now.  

The problem I often have in life is the same as I am having in this class.  Theory to practice.  I can analyze life, the universe and everything, but living it and experiencing it is another matter.  I may not always feel good about myself, but as I take risks and challenge myself, I feel better.  And, hopefully, my learning how to live well will be a lifelong process.  A process in which, with time, I will gain the experience to make wise and knowledgeable decisions.

With time and effort.

~~~~~ooOoo~~~~~

Today is November 1st--the first day of National Blog Posting Month (one post per day, each day in November).  I participated a couple of years ago.  It was very challenging and I stressed myself out, but I also tried some creative writing that I never would have tried if it weren't for the pressue of writing something every day.  I skipped last year because of school.  On an impulse... and I mean an impulse I had one hour ago, I decided to participate this year.  Maybe I'm crazy.  Maybe I'm not.  Either way, I have...

1 down, 29 to go

 

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

I don't know what to think about this...

As a woman who named her blog after one of Douglas Adams' books, I just don't know what to think about this announcement. Eoin Colfer is writing the sixth book to the Hitchhiker's Guide series.

Oh dear.

Can ANYONE do justice to the Hitchhiker series?

I've heard of these Artemis Fowl books, but is Colfer the right man to try?

I don't know...

I DON'T KNOW!!!!

The only thing I do know is that 42 is still the answer to the question of Life, the Universe and Everything.

Tuesday, August 12, 2008

Sleeping with Bread: Glass Half Full or Half Empty?

You know that old story about the pessimist child and the optimist child who are presented with a room full of manure? The optimist child just knows that given that big pile there's a pony in there somewhere.



Well, I've been thinking about doing a Sleeping with Bread post for quite awhile now but have struggled with what to say. There's the potential for me to dwell on the big pile right now but I know that there's a pony in there somewhere. A pony covered in something smelly, maybe, but a pony nonetheless.

Without further adieu...

So far this year, what has left you feeling like your glass is half empty?

I feel like I am looking at a system-wide failure right now. Physically, I haven't exercised in months and months. School was so time and energy consuming AND I didn't have someone to exercise with due to conflicting schedules. Combined with my sleep apnea therapy not working out for months and I am something of a wreck. I've gained quite a bit of weight since December and I just don't feel good about how I feel or how I look. Blech!

Spiritually, I am in the same boat. I have not paid attention to my spiritual formation and it shows. Maybe not to the general onlooker, but it shows to me and I feel somewhat paralyzed to address the issue.

In regards to relationships, I am a weak participant on almost every level. I've become somewhat isolated due to my lack of energy and time. Although I have more time now that school is out, I am such a sloth that I am not making much effort to connect with people.

(Are you getting sick of this whining yet? I promise I am going to move on to more positive stuff soon!)

My dad died this year. It is a situation and history so complex that a Gordian Knot is the best metaphor to describe it. The story continues to add to its complexity with the administration, or rather, attempted administration of the trust. Additionally, this summer, I have been dealing with other family issues. Junk from the past. Nothing new going on--just reminders of what has been.

Finally, we've been dealing with some issues with my son's jaw. It started locking up and wouldn't you know it, he is one of less than 5 percent of people who complete orthodontic work with potential TMJ problems. It just kills me that he has to deal with this and until we know for sure (and it is very likely) that he won't need surgical intervention, I'm not going to be at ease.

I was talking with a friend the other day about all of this and I remembered the Undertoad from The World According to Garp. All of this stuff combined makes me feel like the Undertoad is there, lurking in the waves, waiting for me.

Okay, finally...

What in the last year has left you feeling like your glass is half full?


Paul has been incredibly patient and understanding through the whole "year of getting used to grad school." He values, I think, what I am doing and what it means to me and how it can benefit our family.


Colin has been a pleasure this year. Of course, he is a teenager, so we're not talking perfection here. Beyond some stereotypical conflicts with grades, sibling interaction and what not, I have been very proud to see how he has been handling himself. He's been great about his license and is taking the privilege of driving very seriously. We've had some conversations about Life, the Universe and Everything and I have to say, he has impressed me with his insights and outlook. There are definitely some areas in which he is farther along at 16 than I was. He's a kid who inspires trust.


Marley is growing up. I love watching her change as her body and mind continue to grow. She is back in gymnastics and I get such a kick out of what she can do. She has had the opportunity this summer to meet family who are about her age and spend lots of time with friends. She is eager to enjoy her life and although that can be exhausting for Paul and I at times, I love her joie de vivre.


School has gone well. I've learned a lot and met a lot of great people. I went into this program with an idea that I would enjoy and am thrilled to find that I not only enjoy it, I think I am going to be good at it... once I am finished. I still have a year to go and I won't finish in May 09 as I planned. Instead, due to a scheduling problem with some classes, I will finish in July 09. No worries. I may not get to walk for commencement but I will get to look for work for the fall.

So, while there is lots of stuff which is weighing me down somewhat, there is still so much to be grateful for. And... so much of this stuff is within my power to change. I can exercise, I can pay attention to my spiritual formation, etc. If I can work on some of those changes, the balance can be shifted significantly and I won't be look at a glass half full OR empty, but a glass that is simply full and overflowing.

Thursday, October 11, 2007

Life, the Universe, and Everything: Friday Night Catch Up

Life:

I promised to be back Friday and I sometimes keep my promises.

My brain is still drained, sprained and otherwise constrained.

Still, I soldier on...

The week really hasn't been that bad. Mostly, I am just tired. I spent about 11 hours working on a paper last Sunday (insert impressed noises here) and when I went to bed for the night, the body was willing but my brain was like a frozen computer and I couldn't find the Ctrl-Alt-Del keys. I finally went to sleep at 4:00 a.m. If this is the impact that paper writing has on me, I'm going to have to have a writing curfew to allow for four hours recovery time. The rest of the week involved extra hours at the church office, catching up on sleep, Paul traveling, etc.

This morning I woke up after some fitful sleeping and thought to myself that I didn't see how I could possibly put clothes on, make lunches, and drive the kids to school.

So I didn't.

We had in impromptu LUE family vacation day. It was AWESOME!!! Why was it awesome? Because the kids got along all day and I was able to leave Marley with Colin while I went to the chiropractor and store. After I got home, I lazed around in my pajamas, watching tv and napping off and on. HEAVEN!!

Of course, there was a cloud to my silver lining. Marley was too well-behaved, too cooperative, and too self-sufficient. It couldn't last and it didn't. But that's okay. She's bathed and waiting for Daddy to come home with her Krazy Kryptonite purchased from THE BIGGEST MALL IN THE WORLD!!!!


the Universe:

I officially do not know what is going on in the universe. Last night, my bleary eyes were scanning internet headlines and I found myself reading headlines which were follow ups to news stories I wasn't familiar with.

I think this might be a grad school phenomenon.

Everything:

BubandPie tagged me for a book meme and because I am at reduced capacity, I am going to do it in installments.

Installment One:

What was the last book I read?

Of Human Bondage by W. Somerset Maugham. I recently read The Painted Veil and loved it, so when this selection came up for my book club, I was excited--until I saw the 600 pages or so I had to read. It took me quite a while to plow through this book, but it was definitely worth the effort. Philip Carey grew on me and I found myself alternately frustrated at him for spending too much money or going back to Mildred or broken-hearted for him because of the lack of warmth and understanding in his life. The historical context interested me also with references to the rise of the German philosophers, changes in religious thought toward the end of the 19th century, and post-Impressionism in France.

Stay tuned for installments Two through Six: Five Meaningful Books I've Read.


Friday, September 28, 2007

Surprised by Waltzing

Sometime in the first year after I graduated high school, I read Surprised by Joy: The Shape of My Early Life by C.S. Lewis and his definition of joy as "an unsatisfied desire which is itself more desirable than any other satisfaction" captivated me. Joy, to Lewis, was a feeling inspired by any number of things from encounters with nature to the sound of friends' laughter. Eventually, as he sought out these moments of joy, he began to believe the emotion he was experiencing was a recognition of the divine which creates in us a longing for God.

At 18, I sensed the truth in his words. I knew that joy as he described was different than the happiness we are often taught should be our life's aim.

At 18, I felt I had experienced those longing glimpses into the divine.

I'm sure I had, but as I reflect on my life with its grown up burdens and responsibilities... as I consider the sad and tragic circumstances that can befall people, those glances of joy are more poignant to me. Sometimes they are almost boringly obvious: the heart-bursting ache that comes with a glance at my son or daughter; the gasp that comes with the sight of the local mountains, freshly covered in the snow after a storm. I think these are universal experiences which don't lose their depth of meaning in their prevalence.

Sometimes, though, I get that sense of Beauty and Longing in places I wouldn't expect. Today, Sober Briquette picked up on a recent post of mine in which I chose a shopping cart to represent myself in a transportation metaphor. Her choice is great and the options she eliminates along the way are very funny. At the end she embedded a You Tube clip of Van Morrison singing with The Band from The Last Waltz.



The Last Waltz has been on my mind of late. We have the DVD and Colin recently purchased The Band's Greatest Hits (along with The Best of Sam & Dave, Wilson Pickett's Greatest Hits and Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band--this kid has great taste in music). The film brings back fond memories. The first time I watched it was the first time Paul and I discussed forever. But more than that, the film and the music in it evokes in me a sense of the sublime. It is just so good it almost hurts--that good hurt.

Here's where my descriptive powers will fail me. How do I go beyond the Valley Girl-like "It's so awesome!!!" to communicate how the interviews with the members of The Band, along with the footage of amazing musician after amazing musician singing and playing with the band is just a little slice of heaven here on earth? How can I explain that I see God in the community these men had with each other or that the musicianship seems to be the quintessential example of being in the moment with the music? I don't know.

I'm not really a music person. I like lots of music but I don't pursue music in my life and I'm not musically literate. I can't tell you anything about what makes a good song. There's something more than music going on in The Last Waltz, though, and it surprised me with joy.

Saturday, August 25, 2007

The Good Samaritan

Hump Day Hmm

"There was once a man traveling from Jerusalem to Jericho. On the way he was attacked by robbers. They took his clothes, beat him up, and went off leaving him half-dead. Luckily, a priest was on his way down the same road, but when he saw him he angled across to the other side. Then a Levite religious man showed up; he also avoided the injured man.

"A Samaritan traveling the road came on him. When he saw the man's condition, his heart went out to him. He gave him first aid, disinfecting and bandaging his wounds. Then he lifted him onto his donkey, led him to an inn, and made him comfortable. In the morning he took out two silver coins and gave them to the innkeeper, saying, 'Take good care of him. If it costs any more, put it on my bill—I'll pay you on my way back.'


"What do you think? Which of the three became a neighbor to the man attacked by robbers?"

"The one who treated him kindly," the religion scholar responded.

Jesus said, "Go and do the same."
Luke 10:25-37, New International Version

Several days late, this parable from the Bible is my contribution to the Hump Day Hmm-er.

As I thought about the people in my neighborhood, I knew that all I could really write was about how litte I know about my neighbors. I know about half the names of the people living on my street. I talk to a few of them. We aren't close. We don't hang out in the front yard shooting the breeze. It's been eleven years and I don't really see it changing.

But, as I pondered the subject, the story of the Good Samaritan came to mind. The ultimate neighbor story, I think. The word Samaritan has an entirely positive connotation for most people. But there was a time, let's say around the time that Jesus was alive, when hearing the word Samaritan did not bring up warm fuzzy images of helping others. No, the Samaritans were outcasts. They weren't accepted. That fact is what makes this story revolutionary for its time. The people who were looked up to and respected in Jesus' circle had no mercy. The man who would not have been spoken to by these respectable, religious men--they might even have crossed the road to avoid contact with him--he helped the man in need.

I hope that in my life I can embrace being the kind of neighbor Jesus talked about. To the world, I might be considered one of those respectable, religious people. I am not an outcast. I go to church. I'm a leader in my church. I never want to be so busy, so puffed up with myself, though, that I pass by someone who needs my help. I hope that I can have the Samaritan's heart, one that will go out to others, not only to stop and help, but go above and beyond in doing what I can for others.

Thursday, August 16, 2007

Just a quick note to say…

…life has gone from slow and lazy to somewhat insane a full two weeks ahead of schedule. So, if I've been somewhat lacking in commenting and posting, that is why.

…my new computer should get here today!!! I ordered it three weeks ago and at one point the estimated delivery date was August 31. Fortunately, whatever delayed component was missing came in and I will actually have it in my hot little hands for my first class… this Monday. THIS MONDAY!!! I think I'm getting a nervous stomach over the idea.

…HOT. HOT. HOT. It had to happen sometime. The summer has been entirely too comfortable. Mother Nature has waited until my life went a little crazy and my husband was out of town to turn on the heat. We only have one wall unit A/C on the far end of the house. Not good.

…there has been much discussion of the nature of blogging in regards to race, inclusion/exclusion, etc. I've not been able to participate but in the last few days the story of the blind mice and the elephant has been coming to mind:

As the story goes, seven blind mice discover a strange Something near their pond, and each day a different mouse tries to determine what the strange Something is by examining a part of it. "It's a pillar," says the first; "It's a snake," says the second"; "It's a spear", says the third. "It's a rope, it's a fan, it's a cliff," say the others. On the seventh day, the white blind mouse takes the time and trouble to run up and down, back and forth, end to end, on the strange Something, and discovers that, while the Something has characteristics of each of the other findings, it really is an elephant! The other mice agree after they examine the elephant fully. "The Mouse Moral: Knowing in part may make a fine tale, but wisdom comes from seeing the whole."

I have a hard time trying to speak to the nature of the blog universe because it is so vast. It is as deep and wide as the ocean. What is true for my little corner of this world might not be true elsewhere. I think, as discussions on this topic continue to take place, that it would be helpful to define the depth and breadth of one's travels through the blog'verse. For example, I travel almost exclusively in so-called Mommyblogger circles. I make some stops in other places, such as mysecretennui, the blog of a 20something grad student from Cleveland or the all new adventures of Wyndham, a writer-type dad from England. While I can certainly state my opinion on how I think things ought to be, no matter where in the 'verse you are, I can only write about how things really are in my limited world of the 70-something blogs I frequent.

Let's see, that would be 70 out of how many? (Is there any data out there on exactly how many people have web logs?)

…this post was typed in my new Word 2007's blog posting template. Theoretically, I am going to hit publish and it will both save this as a file on my hard drive and publish it to Blogger. Oh what a wonderful world!

P.S. It worked! Very cool. I didn't check to see about how to label. I'll have look into that. Must have labels.

Thursday, July 26, 2007

For Maddy

Yesterday in a comment from my Sunday post, It is Finished, Maddy (McEwen of Whitterer on Autism) asked me and I quote:

Well something is seriously wrong with the timing here, because that post was on Sunday, and you'd finished........now it is Thursday......what on earth [and I use the term advisedly as I see your space scene in the background] have you been doing!
Cheers!

I guess I haven't been posting fast enough for her!

Well, let me try this in a format I haven't used in quite a while. Since finishing HP7, here is my...

Life
  • Soccer Camp for Marley
  • Washing Marley's soccer clothes every night
  • Dealing with very tired Marley's mood swings
  • Reading another Neil Gaiman book: Anansi Boys
  • Watching Dead Like Me, Season One, Disc Two
  • A Trip to Sam's Club during which I purchased approximately a gazillion gallons of beverages
  • A Play date with Sheila and her kids at their house
  • Complete malfunctioning of schedule on Wednesday combined with a very hot day and extreme tiredness due to OSA (obstructive sleep apnea)
  • Desperation at unsuccessful OSA treatment (CPAP therapy) leading to desperate measures.
  • Success! OSA desperate measures (which might be a wee exaggeration) leads to two full nights of treatment!
  • Watching Damages on FX. Wow! Glenn Close amazes me and looks fabulous. IMDB'd the actress who play Ellen, Rose Byrne, as she looks very familiar. Oh yes! She was great in I Capture the Castle.
  • My son informing me that hates me and is never going to respect me. Never. Ever. He means it. (He's fifteen. Need I say more?)

the Universe

The world wide web is a fascinating place. It is a virtual metropolis with a business district (such as finance and computer sites), a shopping mall (Amazon.com anyone?), suburban neighborhoods (Mommyblogger Heights, Political Pundit Point, etc.) and that part of town, the seedy area that you try to ignore: Spam Alley.

Every couple of days I have to make a trip to that seedy part of my internet town. Important things find their way there such as legitimate emails with attachments and my Netflix notifications. You can always find what you expect to find: promises of sex and money. In the last few days and weeks, I've noticed a steady stream of Spam directed to appeal to to a different need: friendship.

Fake emails from Blue Mountain, Hallmark and other e-card companies arrive, probably 5 - 10 a day. You've received an e-greeting from a "Friend," a "Neighbor," a "Family Member." My favorite? You've received an e-greeting from a "Worshipper." I have to admit to being curious about that one. Is it a fellow believer in Christ or my own personal worshipper, my status as Mary, Queen of the Universe made official when I wasn't looking?

Ultimately, any one of these Spam emails is designed to play on a person's desire to fill a hole in their soul, a hole which will be filled "if only." If only I can have incredible sex, if only I can get rich quick, if only I had someone who cared about me enough to send me an e-card. These if onlys are sad to me--not because I'm above them, but because I understand them.

(For an enlightening lesson on scammers who use the internet, check out this post by Snoskred. I read it right after hearing about two or three people who've fallen prey to this kind of scheme.)

Everything

I promised over a year ago to post a picture of me wearing my CPAP mask. After all, I showed pictures of me all wired up for my sleep study, why not show me in the mask. Well, I just never got around to it and it is one thing to show yourself wired up from head to toe, it is another (at least in my mind) to show a picture of yourself with something up your nose! Since I am so excited about my CPAP miracle from the last two days, I'm going to throw vanity and caution to the wind and show you a picture of me in my nighttime face garb AND explain the miracle desperate measure.

Are you ready?

Really?

(Why do I feel the same as I might if I were about to bungee jump off a bridge?)

Okay, one, two three... JUMP!


And the miracle measure? This is it:

Two little pieces of medical tape strategically placed on the side straps. Two. little. pieces. Somehow, these little wonders keep me from taking off the mask and turning off the alarm in my sleep. Go figure. Either way, I'm thrilled and hope that my good sleep continues.

If you've got oodles of spare time on your hands are are interested in reading Mary-LUE's Saga of Sleep Apnea, click here, here and here.

So, what about you guys? What have you been up to?

Wednesday, July 18, 2007

The Things They Carried: A Hump Day Hmm-er Double Header

Hump Day Hmm


The things they carried were largely determined by necessity.

What they carried was partly a function of rank, partly of field specialty.

They carried catch-as-catch-can.

What they carried varied by mission.

If a mission seemed especially hazardous, or if it involved a place they knew to be bad, they carried everything they could.

On ambush, or other night missions, they carried peculiar odds and ends.

The things they carried were determined to some extent by superstition.

Often, they carried each other, the wounded or weak.

For the most part they carried themselves with poise, a kind of dignity. Now and then, however, there were times of panic, when they squealed or wanted to squeal but couldn't, when they twitched and made moaning sounds and covered their heads and said Dear Jesus and flopped around on the earth and fired their weapons blindly and cringed and sobbed and begged for the noise to stop and went wild and made stupid promises to themselves and to God and to their mothers and fathers, hoping not to die.

They carried the sky.

They carried their own lives.

The above are all quotes from Tim O'Brien's book, The Things They Carried. When I first began to ponder last week's Hump Day Hmm-er, this book immediately came to mind. I flipped through the book looking for a quote--one quote--to use and so many of O'Brien's sentences seemed to be metaphors for Life. In my Life backpack, I carry with me the basic necessities: faith, family, friends. I carry some things according to my specialty/rank of motherhood. I carry odds and ends, peculiar to some, that I have picked up along the way (fanatic faith in Myers-Briggs Temperament theory, just to name one).

Like the young men, O'Brien describes, I hope I carry myself with poise and dignity, at least some of the time. I have known those moments of panic, though, when I have cried out to God and flopped on my bed (instead of the earth) and made moaning sounds.

I realized along the way that the soldier metaphor is imperfect, though, as I thought about all the things in life you have to let go. (Coincidentally, this week's roundtable topic was just that: how do you let it go?) And while O'Brien says that the soldiers "would often discard things along the route of march," it isn't always so easy to discard our emotional baggage, as necessary as it might be to our welfare.

If only it were.

Even when we manage, through perseverance and hard work, to overcome a major obstacle in life, you still carry the memories of it. It may still determine choices you make. I'm not sure it ever truly leaves you.

Perhaps then, it becomes more about finding a way reduce its size and weight enough so that you can pack it in with everything else you need and want to carry with you, leaving you free to continue your journey in Life.

Wednesday, June 20, 2007

A Pair of Ducks? No, a Paradox!

The Hump Day Hmmms are hosted by Julie, The Ravin' Picture Maven. It's a long story, but basically, she is posting a question on a Wednesday to be answered the following Wednesday on your own blog. The questions have so far been explorations in Justice and Forgiveness. She links up all the posts each week so that it is easier to click your way through all the deep thinking.

Reading this week's Hump Day Hmmm prompt, which was to consider the idea of "Accidents of Birth," my first thought was to consider things from a personal angle. But for the family I was born into, I might have been, dot, dot, dot. Two thoughts then occurred to me.

Thought One: All of my Hump Day Hmmm posts have been about me. All. About. Me. Blech. Ugh. I'm feeling more than a little narcissistic about it all.

Thought Two: Do I even believe in accidents of birth? Hmmm. . . And the answer? Yes. No. Both/And.

So now, the burden on my shoulders is to explain that; however, I don't know if I can. I tend to just "arrive" at certain conclusions like one of those cooks (the kind I am not) who can just throw in a pinch of this and a handful of that and come up with something delicious. Well, I'm actually more like the pot into which all the ingredients get thrown. After it all simmers for awhile, it is something good.

Let me tackle the "Accident of Birth? No" first. One day in high school, a friend of mine handed me a book called Illusions by Richard Bach. For those of you who are not familiar with it, it is the story of a messiah who quits. The story on its own it quite interesting. The problem is that the author believes most of what he is saying, that you are the director of your own life's film. If there is something you don't like in your life, it is because you put it there. There are lots of quotes like this: "Every person, all the events of your life, are there because you have drawn them there. What you choose to do with them is up to you." Now, this is similar to The Secret which has as its focus that you can make good things happen for yourself by believing in them enough. (My understanding of The Secret is quite sketchy and has been pieced together from what other people have said to me about it. Please feel free to correct me if I am wrong.) I think that The Secret might focus more on making positive things happen and Illusions is more open about believing that your life is your own creation, good or bad. If it is bad, there's a reason only you can know to explain it.

I completely disagree with that philosophy. (This also includes my differing with the Christianized version of "The Secret" which is sometimes referred to at the Prosperity Gospel or Word of Faith ministries. This version inserts your belief in Jesus, your really, really strong belief in Jesus as being the answer to your woes, material or otherwise.)

Next up? "Accident of Birth? Yes."

There are various belief systems which might hold that either there is no Creator or that while God may exist, it/he/she does not intervene in the natural order of things. Thus, whether you are born, where you are born and what circumstances you are born into is more of an accident of birth. Blame for who you are, where you are and how you are might be placed on human sociological structures or on other philosophical explanations.

If you have read this blog on any given Monday, you know I don't agree with that.

We are left with "Accident of Birth? Both/And." If I had a genie and three wishes, one of them right now would be absolute clarity of expression right now. But I don't have a genie. What should follow then is more fumbling and stumbling and I should just get to it.

I believe in God. The God. The God of Abraham. God the Father, who sent the Son. That Son. The "For God so loved the world he sent his only son that whoever believes in him" Son.

I believe that God is omniscient, omnipresent and omnipotent. (AoB: No)

I believe we have free will. (AofB: Yes)

Although I believe he knows the number of hairs on my head (AoB: No), I think I have choices to make. Choices every day which have an impact not only on me but on those around me. (AoB:Yes)

Although I believe he knew me in the womb and that throughout history, he has called specific people in specific places for specific purposes (AoB: No) , I don't think that is true of every person who is alive today or who has ever lived. (AoB: Yes)

Are you confused yet? I think I am. Are these beliefs of mine paradoxical? I think so. (AoB: Both/And)

The question remains, then, how this belief affects my view of the world and the inequities which exist in it--whether they be physical (disabilities) or material (geographic or socioeconomic, resources and privileges or lack thereof). The answer is simply that I don't know. I have my Weltenschauung (A tip of the hat to my dreaded Interpretations in Historical Studies professor.) and even within that, it is difficult to reconcile the disparities of Life. And, after some growing up, I've learned that I cannot thrust my beliefs upon someone else. I can't tell someone that their circumstances as an individual or that the circumstances of a whole group of people can be or should be dismissed by a simple "It's the Lord's will" or "God is in control." For myself, I try, feebly and with many lapses, to trust God that it will all work out for the best, that his perspective is greater and truer than mine. I try not to hold the circumstances of my life--the ones over which I had no control--against him. I try not to even linger too much on the "what ifs" of my life.

It all remains to be seen whether I am right or I am wrong.

Monday, May 28, 2007

Vietnam, A Memoir

Because it is Memorial Day, I won't be Sleeping with Bread today. Instead, I am republishing a post I wrote September 13, 2006. . .

A few weeks ago, I wrote about the nurses who served in the Vietnam War. It was inspired by a documentary on television of the same subject. A few days ago, I came across a story online of one Vietnam veteran's journey back to Vietnam to the site of a prolonged battle for territory, as told by his wife who accompanied him. It was part of a series on that country by The Hot Zone, the website where Kevin Sites, for Yahoo News, is going to every country in which there is a significant armed conflict in one year. As I am wont to do when the subject of the Vietnamese War comes up, I started thinking about my uncle who was a veteran. I also started thinking about my awareness of that war, what it was about, where it took place, etc.

As a child of six, if you had asked me if I knew of the country of Vietnam or if I had heard about the war there, I would have answered no. Instead, I could tell you that one summer day, as my aunt watched my sister and I, the phone rang. We were going to Grandma and Grandpa’s house for dinner. Mom would meet us there. My aunt cleaned us up and dressed us in our cousin’s sunsuits. All of my aunts, uncles and cousins were there. Grandma wasn’t happy about something. We took pictures that day. My mom, her brothers and sisters and my grandparents smile for the camera, the sun in their eyes. I am in the background wearing a red and white sunsuit swinging on a tire swing.


I know now we were saying goodbye to my uncle before he left for the army and Vietnam.

Sometime with the next year, I knew the name Vietnam and that there was a war but I didn’t really understand anything about what was going on. I just knew that my aunt had these cool bracelets. They were metal and had names on them and letters: POW or MIA. I learned that POW meant Prisoner of War and MIA meant Missing in Action. I knew the names of men that were POWs and MIA.


I know now that my uncle could easily have been a POW or MIA but, fortunately, he wasn’t.

More time passed and my uncle came home from Vietnam. We gathered at my Grandma and Grandpa’s house again. I was happy because somehow Uncle L.T. was special. He was much younger than my mom and his brother and sisters. I loved seeing him. He was the coolest grown up. My sister asked him if he killed anybody in the war. I was shocked that she asked the question but I wanted to know the answer also. He said he probably had but he didn’t know for sure.


I know now he surely killed someone in his time over there. He was only 18 or 19 years old.

As I grew up and went through school--elementary, junior high, high school--I didn't know very much more about Vietnam than I did when my uncle was there. It was said by some to be--and I didn’t think to question--the only war the United States had ever lost. I knew the movies Deer Hunter and Apocalypse Now had something to do with the war. I must have been taught about the war in history class but I cannot remember any of it.


I know more now about the history of the war but I also understand how very little it had to do with the Vietnamese people or their well-being.

When I was in high school, I came across a story. It was a story about a Christian soldier in Vietnam. In despair over his situation there, he cried out in prayer, “Lord, why am I here?” He looked down and saw a Vietnamese New Testament opened to the Great Commission (Matthew 28:19-20*). All the fire and brimstone preaching I had listened to all my life had not been enough, but this call to join God in his work did the trick. I prayed a prayer of commitment to God later that night with my high school pastor. The following Sunday my Grandpa baptized me at the Bell Gardens Free Will Baptist Church on February 10, 1980.


I know now that the Lord used this story of Vietnam to call me to him.

After high school, I saw movies like Platoon and Born on the Fourth of July. Sometimes the movies helped me understand. Sometimes I was repulsed by the anger and bitterness of those who had gone. After I got married, I finished college. My American history professor had us read Home Before Morning about a nurse’s experience in Vietnam. Reading that not only helped me understand a woman’s experience there but gave me insight into the soldiers’ experiences also. During those years, my uncle didn't talk much about the war. He told me that he hated it when people got bogged down in the war and blamed it for not being able to move on in their lives. He told me that before it became known that he was an alcoholic--a church-going, Bible teaching, communion meditation-giving alcoholic. By the end of his life, he had just married for the fourth time and his relationship with his daughter was strained, to say the least, because of what she endured for years. He had times of sobriety but his journey was a rough one.


I know now that although he didn’t look like a stereotypical Vietnam veteran, his life was scarred nonetheless. I also know that there are many other veterans out there, from any war, who look like anyone else on the outside but have thick scars on the inside.

One day after coming across pictures at my mother's of his Christmas in Vietnam, my uncle told me that was his favorite Christmas ever. When asked why he said because it reminded him of the church in Acts 2:42 "...they had all things in common." It wasn't until a few years later that I heard the rest of the story. That Thanksgiving he had been in one of two transport helicopters. They were fired upon. The next moment he watched the other helicopter fall out of the sky carrying many of his fellow soldiers' to their deaths. They spent the next weeks in the field. Finally, at Christmas, they came back to the base for some R & R. Depressed and exhausted, they faced the holiday away from their loved ones. Somehow, they all ended up coming together, reading letters from sweethearts, friends and family to each other and sharing what gifts had made it through the mail. They barbecued hamburgers using raisin bread for the buns. They forgot, briefly, the horrors they endured day after day.

I know now that no matter how difficult your circumstances in life, if you have good people around you, you can find joy in the midst of pain and fear.

Years after that, my uncle sent me an email. In it, he told me about a book. The Things They Carried by Tim O’Brien. He said it came the closest of anything he had ever read to describing what it really felt like to be a soldier in Vietnam. In the email, he described trudging through the jungle, day after day. It was tedious, uncomfortable, relentless. Suddenly they were fired upon. A soldier near him had half his head blown away. He was still making noises so my uncle performed a field tracheotomy on him and the medics took him away. They all got back up and went on trudging through the jungle. Business as usual. A day or so later, they got word the wounded soldier was dead. They kept walking.


I know now that there are two soldiers on the Vietnam Memorial who share the name of the soldier my uncle told me about. One died in October the year my uncle would have been there. There is something about knowing that name and knowing it is on the war memorial that makes me feel close to Uncle L.T.

In 2004, at the age of 52 my uncle died of a ruptured abdominal aortic anuerysm. Surely the years of heavy smoking and alcohol abuse contributed to his death. No one could say with any certainty that had he not gone to the war he still wouldn't have become an alcoholic. I remember though, the words of his childhood friend at his funeral. A friend who remembered him before and knew that afterwards he was not the same person.

I know now that he was another victim of the war although his death came 30 years later and his name will never go on the wall.



The last picture with his brother and sisters not too long before he died. Unfortunately one sister, my Aunt Margaret, had passed away a few years earlier so the picture isn't complete.


*"Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age." Matthew 28:19-20, New International Version

Monday, May 21, 2007

Sleeping with Bread: Feeling a Little Rushed

(In a rushed, out of breath, too fast voice...) I'm having a total caffeine buzz plus there are only so many consecutive months I can go without doing some serious housework and I'm feeling like the jig is up and I really, really must do something about it so maybe I should take advantage of my caffeine buzz and do some chores around this house but I have to (want to) do my SWB post first so here goes:

After last week barely being able to force myself to write my SWB post, I was that down in the dumps I am happy to say that in the last week, I have found joy in. . .


those bloomin' jacaranda trees. Every Spring the jacarandas bloom in this town and they are so beautiful that I can't help but feel my spirit lifting. You might see one here or there and then come across a street lined up for blocks with purple trees. The lovely purple blossoms are especially welcome this year because we've had very little rain and I've not had my "the hills are alive with the sound of music" joy. When we've had lots of rain, the hills which surround me become a newborn green, lush and striking against the blue sky and white clouds. On years where there has not been enough rain, the words of the local university alma mater make more sense: "hills like tawny lions." It is an apt description and much more poetic than saying ugly brown hills. I did realize this year that I feel somewhat territorial about my town's trees. There are so many here that I think of them as belonging to my town. Recently as I've seen them scattered here and there in the neighboring towns, I've felt a little miffed. Excuse me, don't you know those trees are for me and my town?

An offset to the lift in spirit God's colorful handiwork has brought me is the sad realization I had this week while dining with a friend. . .

I have a deep, deep certainty that my children are going to feel emotionally estranged from me when they grow up. When you read the words deep, deep certainty, please know that I don't know this. It just feels like I know it. Let me explain. My friend and I were at dinner and the subject of teenagers not liking their parents came up. Her youngest is 18 and she said to me that kids work their way back to liking their parents as they grow up. This is probably a statement that is fair and somewhat accurate. But for some reason, when she said it, I had a flash. First, that I fear my children will grow up and not want to be around me, will not like me, will struggle with their feelings toward me. Next, I had another flash of why I feel that way. Of course, I cannot (actually I could but I will not) go into detail about the why of all this. Anyone with an ounce of imagination will be able to figure out the basics. I feel like I am taking something of a risk in even saying this much, but I don't think the parties involved read this. Also, it was such a strong revelation, the recognizing of this undercurrent in my parenting, a vague sense of dread I feel deep down so much of the time. It is my truest desolation this week and I just didn't want to opt for something other in this space.

The consolation in this though, is that having realized this, I can process it. Hopefully, I will be able to counter this dread certainty with some light and truth. While it is possible that my children will experience some of what I have described, it is certainly not a given and probably not very likely. (That doesn't sound as optimistic as it really does feel to me.) I am not a perfect mother. I have, in dealing with my own struggles, sometimes done things for which I need to be forgiven. But I am a good mother--or, as someone (whose blog name escapes me at the moment) recently wrote--a good enough mother.

Tuesday, May 15, 2007

The Evolution of Awareness

This might be awkward, disjointed, incoherent... so, I apologize in advance if this is unreadable.

Julie has been coordinating a series of roundtable discussions on justice, forgiveness, compassion, etc. The first series was to compare justice and forgiveness and answer the question of which was of greater necessity. The second series provided several prompts to choose from. I didn't manage to get anything in for that one. The latest pass was to approach it more personally and to share your story with one of these concepts. It was difficult for me to participate last week for a couple of reasons, but one was that I think I took a pretty personal approach in my first offering. I haven't been sure what to say.

I read some of the other entries for the week and I did get some ideas. I tried putting together something really powerful using Douglas Coupland and Annie Dillard quotes and everything. Alas, that intellectual souffle' collapsed. A souffle is pretty tricky and you really have to know what you are doing. Apparently, I do not! ;)

Still, I do feel strongly about participating. I don't want to disappoint Julie. She has put a lot of energy and thought into the Hump Day Hmmm posts and I want to honor that. Plus, I am challenged by what Julie and others have to say. Julie reminds me of another very bright friend I have. He and I engage in philosophical discussions and it is all I can do to hold my own. I feel like I'm swimming in a pool dog-paddling while my friend is swimming laps at Olympic pace. I think I benefit from these discussions though. They are good intellectual exercise for me. I may not be swimming with perfect form yet, but I think I'm dog-paddling faster.

So, what I wanted to say, only much more eloquently, is that my journey with forgiveness and justice and compassion and mercy has been one of gradual awareness. First, as concepts, followed by experience. As a child, I was very fearful. Much of my emotional and intellectual energy was spent managing this fear. As I entered junior high, I had more capacity to think about other things. I tended though, to reflect the opinions of the adults around me. I trusted them and didn't know to question their perspectives. High School brought more sophisticated thought. I realized I had opinions other than those of some of the adults and kids around me. It was during my high school years that "Mary" truly began taking shape as a questioner and participant in philosophical talks. Being a part of a youth group at church really encouraged this because we spent a lot of time talking about God and how he works in the world.

As I mentioned in my first roundtable post, I felt very comfortable with justice at this time. I loved justice and wanted to see it meted out quite regularly, with consistency and without much mercy. (I kind of laugh about this now. For Pete's sake, I was a card-carrying evangelical Christian, and while I know that many people have had less than compassionate experiences with the Church, I was never taught to be so severe in my faith. I knew about grace and compassion, really I did. I think that I was kind of wired up that way. I wanted things to be fair, plus, the arrogance of youth is just that: arrogant.)

I don't think it was really until I was in my twenties that I became more familiar with compassion, mercy and grace. I had a friend who became pregnant. It was quite the shock and caused quite a buzz. She was the daughter of an elder and had been "raised right." I think I kicked into mercy mode for her because so many others didn't. More lessons on mercy and compassion followed. The best lessons were those where I was the recipient of mercy or compassion or justice. I recently watched Something's Gotta Give with Diane Keaton and Jack Nicholson. There is a scene where Diane's character has a major realization. She understands that she can't be okay with Jack's character and how he handles relationships. Weeping, she says something to him along these lines: "I know what this is. I've written it a hundred times, but I never really knew. Do you know what this is? It's heartbroken." She gives him one last kiss and leaves. I think that is true for these ideas we've been talking about. We truly understand mercy when we receive it; forgiveness when we are forgiven, etc.

Through all this, God has been my guide. He hasn't always worked through the Church or other Christians, although he often has. Sometimes a Christian's best examples of justice, forgiveness, compassion and mercy come from people who don't share his/her beliefs. And just when I think I have it, when I know everything there is to know about any of these concepts, something happens and I am floored with a new awareness--a different perspective. I'm grateful for that. I don't really every want to know it all. I want to always be a person who is willing to learn and grow and who can be impacted by the world around her.