I really hate labels, and I dislike buzz words just as much if not more. "Community" is one of those once beautiful words that now tastes icky in my mouth. I have my opinions on who to blame for it, but I'll keep it to myself . . . for now.
When I lived in Bourbonnais, IL there was not much variety in the way of radio stations. Seems we were just out of reach of all the great stuff available not far up the road in Chicago. So you just had to grit your teeth as the top 40 station played a lot of crappy music while simultaneously driving the little bit of good music to an early grave by playing it over and over and over again until it no longer sounded even remotely creative or original. The station call letters were WBUS so I liked to refer to it as "death by the bus". Perfectly good music just utterly destroyed by overexposure.
But I digress. My point is that this inevitably is what happens whenever we are compelled to label things. It happens everywhere - realtionships, social movements, it's all over the business world - but I'm speaking specifically about the church. We always have to come up with some cool new way to describe ourselves and it just ends up killing perfectly lovely descriptive words that never did anything bad to anyone. The buzz started with "postmodern" which has morphed into "emerging" and if things go according to Bob at Evergreen, "organic" is next up. Words used to describe some specific churches include "missional", "experiental", and back to the origin of this post, "community". Like I said before, I really like that word. I love the image it conjures up in my mind of people laughing, crying, eating together, looking out for one another's kids, borrowing cups of sugar and what not. I think it's great, and have been drawn to places who mention it. Anymore, though, if I go to a church that uses the word, it means virtually nothing to me. Here's my beef . . . . if we have to name it and call it out as something important, and say "ooo, look at us, we value community, is it really authentic? I mean, come on, it's a freaking church! Shouldn't some things just be understood? If I have to sign up somewhere so that someone will invite me to coffee, something is amiss. If the congregation has to be reminded to notice and welcome and be nice to visitors, we have problems. If we're all just being nice and warm and welcoming to one another, won't that include the visitors? It just seems like community is something that should happen on it's own and not a job we have to do or something we have to talk about ALL THE TIME. (Death by the bus.)
We have been visiting a church off and on for about 8 or 9 months and never once has the word "community" been mentioned. Yet it is one of the warmest places I've ever been. As a matter of fact, they don't label anything. To my knowledge there is no web page of their values and their statement of faith is basically the Nicene creed. They just are. It just seems to me that our time and energy is better spent being and doing rather than identifying and labeling.
But that's just me . . . . .
Monday, April 17, 2006
Saturday, April 01, 2006
Bad wife. No biscuit.
When I started this blog, I told no one. I can't really explain why. I could try, but I doubt it would make any sense to anyone. Trust me, you do not want to go that deep into the workings of my brain. I just wanted some kind of secret place that was all mine. (I can not go and pee with any confidence that I will actually be alone for the duration of the event.) There may be strangers who read bits of it here and there, but I never know. They're quiet, so really, I never even know they are there. (Again, a place like this does not currently exist in my world.)
It has been a few months now, and I still have not told anyone about this. My friend Cori knows because I posted a response on her blog not knowing that it would link back to mine. (By the way, you should visit hers sometime. mommystories.blogspot.com. Totally more fun to read than this.)
Anyway, I have now been truly discovered. Last week my husband found out I was blogging, and to see and hear his response you would think I was trafficking drugs while he was at work. I guess I can understand his, I don't know, surprise . . . disappointment . . . . concern? And I'll admit that I was intentionally keeping it a secret so in a way it's good that it's out there now. Although, now I actually have someone audibly harping on me to post something. That could be good or bad. We'll just have to see. Perhaps this will be our new mode of communication since we primarily work opposite shifts at work. (Hey honey, we need milk.) So yes, I have been a bad wife, but I feel confident that my marriage will weather the storm. For now, I must blog in an effort to keep the peace and redeem myself, one post at a time.
It has been a few months now, and I still have not told anyone about this. My friend Cori knows because I posted a response on her blog not knowing that it would link back to mine. (By the way, you should visit hers sometime. mommystories.blogspot.com. Totally more fun to read than this.)
Anyway, I have now been truly discovered. Last week my husband found out I was blogging, and to see and hear his response you would think I was trafficking drugs while he was at work. I guess I can understand his, I don't know, surprise . . . disappointment . . . . concern? And I'll admit that I was intentionally keeping it a secret so in a way it's good that it's out there now. Although, now I actually have someone audibly harping on me to post something. That could be good or bad. We'll just have to see. Perhaps this will be our new mode of communication since we primarily work opposite shifts at work. (Hey honey, we need milk.) So yes, I have been a bad wife, but I feel confident that my marriage will weather the storm. For now, I must blog in an effort to keep the peace and redeem myself, one post at a time.
Saturday, February 25, 2006
A lesson from a 4 year old
On Wednesday mornings, the kids and I go to Community Bible Study. We take highway 26 at the latter part of rush hour to get there. Here in the Portland area many of the onramps have 2 lanes that control entrance with a signal during the busier times. These signals are a popular location for folks in need. As we approached this past week, I had nothing to offer and did the cowardly thing and selected the signal furthest from the homeless veteran on the other side. As we pulled away to enter the highway, Quincy pipes up with "Mommy, who was that man?" Before I could respond, he was answering himself (and totally guilting his mother). "He was sad and we didn't do anything for him. We're supposed to give him something. We should always try and help people."
You see, recently there were some just expired Clif/Luna/granola type bars at work that are perfectly fine to eat, but they have to be removed from the selling floor. These are written out of stock and usually end up in the breakroom for staff. Erik and I grabbed a bunch and just kept them in the car so we would have something to offer whenever we came upon anyone less fortunate when we were out and about. Clearly, this did not go unnoticed by the 4 year old in the back seat. Of course, we had also taken the opportunity to educate him on our responsibility to our fellow man whenever he did ask questions as to who that was and what did we just give them. But you're never really sure what all is truly sinking in. So just in case any parents out there think that their children don't hear a word they say or even moreso, don't notice what you do, I've got a console full of Clif bars, hand warmers, and lip balm that reminds me otherwise.
You see, recently there were some just expired Clif/Luna/granola type bars at work that are perfectly fine to eat, but they have to be removed from the selling floor. These are written out of stock and usually end up in the breakroom for staff. Erik and I grabbed a bunch and just kept them in the car so we would have something to offer whenever we came upon anyone less fortunate when we were out and about. Clearly, this did not go unnoticed by the 4 year old in the back seat. Of course, we had also taken the opportunity to educate him on our responsibility to our fellow man whenever he did ask questions as to who that was and what did we just give them. But you're never really sure what all is truly sinking in. So just in case any parents out there think that their children don't hear a word they say or even moreso, don't notice what you do, I've got a console full of Clif bars, hand warmers, and lip balm that reminds me otherwise.
Saturday, January 28, 2006
How have I not heard of this before?
I have no words to describe the sickening feeling in my stomach when I read these articles. I am apalled that we are more concerned with our interests in Iraq under the guise of "democracy" when human rights atrocities like this are happening elsewhere. These stories are not for the faint hearted......
www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2006/001/19.34.html
www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2006/001/18.30.html
www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2006/001/19.34.html
www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2006/001/18.30.html
Saturday, January 21, 2006
I guess it's settled then
While watching Rick Steve's Europe last week, Quincy asked me if Allah was Spanish for God. (Rick was in Turkey.) Not wanting to open up any complex theological exchange with my 4 year old I simply answered that Allah was the name that Muslims use while Christians are the ones who call him God. That, of course, led to the question of whether we were Christians. Oh great, what do I do now? I opted for honesty and told him that Mommy and Daddy were Christians, but that he and Adelaide will need to choose if they want to be. There was just a brief pause before he stated with confidence "Mommy, we'll be Christians too because we like to call God God." Simple enough, right? I think I'm just gonna leave it at that for the time being.
Did I really just say that?
There are some words, phrases, and many full sentences that you just never ever expect to come out of your mouth. And then you become a parent. Case in point,
"Sweetie, the poop really wants to come out of your bottom, but you have to help it get out. That's why you have to push."
This is what I have come to. Oh my.
"Sweetie, the poop really wants to come out of your bottom, but you have to help it get out. That's why you have to push."
This is what I have come to. Oh my.
Saturday, January 14, 2006
I really like Saturday nights. . .
Ahhh, we are finally back into the old routine that had just been unintentially established. Saturday has kind of become my Public Broadcasting night o' fun. For the most part, I no longer work on Saturday nights which makes me very happy. So with that annoyance out of the way, the day can hold any number of things from laundry to a trip to the Children's Museum or just exploring our new city. The evening, however, generally goes something like this.
4:30 - The kids and I head to St. Nicholas for the weekly Inquirer's class from 5:00 - 6:00. Listen to Prairie Home Companion on the way. (The more time I spend in this class, the more I love the Orthodox Church.)
6:00 - Head back home listening to "The Thistle and the Shamrock", a Celtic music program on OPB.
6:30ish - Arrive home, have something simple to eat and maybe do a little channel surfing with the kids.
7:30 - All 3 of us settle in to watch "Rick Steve's Europe". I really love Europe and love even more that my 4 and 2 year old will sit and take it in with me. The past 2 weeks have been in Turkey which dovetails nicely with the Church history we have been learning at Inquirers class.
8:00 - Bedtime for the little people. Brush teeth, clean up, read stories, say prayers, give Adelaide the 3 blankets and 5 stuffed animals that she requests, turn on the musical selection for the evening, close the door and let out a nice big sigh. Globetrekker is usually on while I make a cup of tea and catch up on the Evergreen forum, a few folks blogs, and a little email.
9:00 - This is when my "programs" really begin. Yes, I have become a British TV junkie beginning with my favorite, "As Time Goes By". The rest of the night goes in 30 minute increments as follows.
9:30 - "My Hero"
10:00 - "Keeping Up Appearances"
10:30 - "My Family"
You know what I think it is that I love so much about my Saturday nights? They are incredibly simple. And the things I do spend my time on remind me of a simple life. The Orthodox Church for instance. Been around oh, a couple thousand years, yet it's really incredibly simple in it's structure and beliefs. And St. Nicholas is such a quaint and unassuming parish with such lovely people who really seem to take life slow. (Excluding Father George, who goes 90 miles and hour at all times.) And then I spend the rest of my evening vicariously in another country where life moves at a much leisurely pace. I can't really remember about England, but in much of Europe, you can't even buy gas on a Sunday because everything is closed. In Switzerland there are 2 hours in the afternoon during the week that all of the shops close for lunch. On "As Time Goes By" they are often running to 'the corner shop' for some little thing they need like . . . syrup. I wish I had a corner shop. And on all the shows there is much conversation happening over many cups of tea. I realize it is TV and not necessarily real life, but if you have spent any time in Europe at all you know there is still a definite difference in their pace of life versus ours. My Saturday night line up reminds me of what I hope to have in my own life, home, and family one day. It relaxes me and give me just a weekly dose of motivation to continue my efforts to simplify everything.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm late for a cup of tea.
4:30 - The kids and I head to St. Nicholas for the weekly Inquirer's class from 5:00 - 6:00. Listen to Prairie Home Companion on the way. (The more time I spend in this class, the more I love the Orthodox Church.)
6:00 - Head back home listening to "The Thistle and the Shamrock", a Celtic music program on OPB.
6:30ish - Arrive home, have something simple to eat and maybe do a little channel surfing with the kids.
7:30 - All 3 of us settle in to watch "Rick Steve's Europe". I really love Europe and love even more that my 4 and 2 year old will sit and take it in with me. The past 2 weeks have been in Turkey which dovetails nicely with the Church history we have been learning at Inquirers class.
8:00 - Bedtime for the little people. Brush teeth, clean up, read stories, say prayers, give Adelaide the 3 blankets and 5 stuffed animals that she requests, turn on the musical selection for the evening, close the door and let out a nice big sigh. Globetrekker is usually on while I make a cup of tea and catch up on the Evergreen forum, a few folks blogs, and a little email.
9:00 - This is when my "programs" really begin. Yes, I have become a British TV junkie beginning with my favorite, "As Time Goes By". The rest of the night goes in 30 minute increments as follows.
9:30 - "My Hero"
10:00 - "Keeping Up Appearances"
10:30 - "My Family"
You know what I think it is that I love so much about my Saturday nights? They are incredibly simple. And the things I do spend my time on remind me of a simple life. The Orthodox Church for instance. Been around oh, a couple thousand years, yet it's really incredibly simple in it's structure and beliefs. And St. Nicholas is such a quaint and unassuming parish with such lovely people who really seem to take life slow. (Excluding Father George, who goes 90 miles and hour at all times.) And then I spend the rest of my evening vicariously in another country where life moves at a much leisurely pace. I can't really remember about England, but in much of Europe, you can't even buy gas on a Sunday because everything is closed. In Switzerland there are 2 hours in the afternoon during the week that all of the shops close for lunch. On "As Time Goes By" they are often running to 'the corner shop' for some little thing they need like . . . syrup. I wish I had a corner shop. And on all the shows there is much conversation happening over many cups of tea. I realize it is TV and not necessarily real life, but if you have spent any time in Europe at all you know there is still a definite difference in their pace of life versus ours. My Saturday night line up reminds me of what I hope to have in my own life, home, and family one day. It relaxes me and give me just a weekly dose of motivation to continue my efforts to simplify everything.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm late for a cup of tea.
Monday, December 12, 2005
Christmas(es) past
Something feels amiss this year and to be honest, it often does. I'm very big on accepting ones present reality rather than stress out trying to create some perfect mental picture. But when it comes to Christmas, I have a more difficult time with this. I have children and of course I want them to have memories that they treasure into adulthood. So I've been reflecting on holidays past and trying to pinpoint what it is that makes some more memorable than others. I don't have an answer, but here are two of my personal favorites.
Chicago, 1992 (or maybe '93): The early days of my retail career so obviously I did not go home to be with family in Arkansas. I was young and made a decent income so I decided to treat myself. On Christmas Eve, after my store closed I changed into my "little black dress" and headed into the city with my orchestra seating ticket to see Les Miserables (my favorite). Afterword, I had hoped to attend a midnight mass (read: observe unnoticed from the very back) at a giant Catholic church on State Street, but it was standing room only and having never attended a mass of any kind before, I passed. Instead, I took a moonlight stroll down Michigan Avenue. I remember it as being incredibly quiet. . . and then it began to snow. Big, fat, fluffy snowflakes. It was just . . . . perfect. One of my best nights ever. Finally, I headed back home, put on my Sarah McClachlan CD (I know, not very Christmasy, but very chill, nonetheless) and sipped a glass of wine with my crackers and Edom cheese. I loved it and I reveled in it. The next day I went to a couple of friends homes that I had been invited to and had a good time, but it is always Christmas Eve of that year that I remember so fondly.
Lausanne, Switzerland, 1991: The halfway point of my DTS (Discipleship Training School) with YWAM (Youth With a Mission). My first Christmas without family. The school took a break so most of the Europeans had gone home, some took Americans with them and others just ventured out on their own. Only one of my 3 roommates remained behind with me. On Christmas Eve we, along with some of the others who had stayed behind, volunteered to help with a church or charity organization of some sort who were providing a big meal for the homeless. Holy cow, was that a miserable experience. God Bless the Swiss, but man, are they anal retentive. Seriously, a plumb line to make sure the tables are lined up? Oh my head!! It was so annoying that we just had to laugh, and laugh we did. But this is not the good part, it's just something I remembered as an afterthought and to be honest, I do smile because we all did have a good laugh over it. The thing I remember most, though, is exchanging gifts with Katie the next morning. I'm not sure, but I think we got each other the same - terribly extravagant - thing.....an individually sized box of Frosted Flakes. We were missionaries, we had 0 income and it was a huge treat. We put our massive duvets in the middle of our floor and ate our Christmas breakfast together. I don't remember any details of the rest of the day, just that it was all very "chill". (Chill is a big thing for me.) The staff did prepare a nice big meal for those of us still at the base and then we just kind of hung out. I loved it.
I'm not sure what it says about me that 2 of my favorite holiday memories do not involve any of my immediate family. And it doesn't really give me any solid direction on what kind of holiday memories with which I hope to send my children into adulthood. But like I said, I'm a fan of reality and it is what it is. Hmmmmm. . . . .
Chicago, 1992 (or maybe '93): The early days of my retail career so obviously I did not go home to be with family in Arkansas. I was young and made a decent income so I decided to treat myself. On Christmas Eve, after my store closed I changed into my "little black dress" and headed into the city with my orchestra seating ticket to see Les Miserables (my favorite). Afterword, I had hoped to attend a midnight mass (read: observe unnoticed from the very back) at a giant Catholic church on State Street, but it was standing room only and having never attended a mass of any kind before, I passed. Instead, I took a moonlight stroll down Michigan Avenue. I remember it as being incredibly quiet. . . and then it began to snow. Big, fat, fluffy snowflakes. It was just . . . . perfect. One of my best nights ever. Finally, I headed back home, put on my Sarah McClachlan CD (I know, not very Christmasy, but very chill, nonetheless) and sipped a glass of wine with my crackers and Edom cheese. I loved it and I reveled in it. The next day I went to a couple of friends homes that I had been invited to and had a good time, but it is always Christmas Eve of that year that I remember so fondly.
Lausanne, Switzerland, 1991: The halfway point of my DTS (Discipleship Training School) with YWAM (Youth With a Mission). My first Christmas without family. The school took a break so most of the Europeans had gone home, some took Americans with them and others just ventured out on their own. Only one of my 3 roommates remained behind with me. On Christmas Eve we, along with some of the others who had stayed behind, volunteered to help with a church or charity organization of some sort who were providing a big meal for the homeless. Holy cow, was that a miserable experience. God Bless the Swiss, but man, are they anal retentive. Seriously, a plumb line to make sure the tables are lined up? Oh my head!! It was so annoying that we just had to laugh, and laugh we did. But this is not the good part, it's just something I remembered as an afterthought and to be honest, I do smile because we all did have a good laugh over it. The thing I remember most, though, is exchanging gifts with Katie the next morning. I'm not sure, but I think we got each other the same - terribly extravagant - thing.....an individually sized box of Frosted Flakes. We were missionaries, we had 0 income and it was a huge treat. We put our massive duvets in the middle of our floor and ate our Christmas breakfast together. I don't remember any details of the rest of the day, just that it was all very "chill". (Chill is a big thing for me.) The staff did prepare a nice big meal for those of us still at the base and then we just kind of hung out. I loved it.
I'm not sure what it says about me that 2 of my favorite holiday memories do not involve any of my immediate family. And it doesn't really give me any solid direction on what kind of holiday memories with which I hope to send my children into adulthood. But like I said, I'm a fan of reality and it is what it is. Hmmmmm. . . . .
Wednesday, December 07, 2005
Confessions of a Commitment-phobe
My husband and I met about a year and a half before we started dating. Then it was about another 2-3 years until we were actually married. I believe he would tell you that the whole process could have been completed much sooner. Yes, it was me dragging my feet along, unable to commit until I was ambushed with a proposal. Sometimes I can be such a guy. I've come a long way since then (7 years and 2 kids later), but my "commitment issues" are beginning to rear their heads again.
After a little "hiatus" from the organized church for about a year and a half, we came to Portland and decided we were ready to try this again. We visited lots of lovely little congregations that really had nothing wrong with them (save one), but nothing either of us were interested in really becoming a part of. However, over time, we have found ourselves returning to 2 churches in particular. And we (at least I) just really like them both and don't want to choose one over the other. So now I have gone from never wanting to set foot in a church again to being torn between 2 that are soooo different considering how much they actually have in common. Joshua Harris would be so disappointed in me, but yes, I am dating not one, but 2 churches and I'm just not ready to "commit" to either one.
There will probably be more on this later, but Lost is coming on.
Later
After a little "hiatus" from the organized church for about a year and a half, we came to Portland and decided we were ready to try this again. We visited lots of lovely little congregations that really had nothing wrong with them (save one), but nothing either of us were interested in really becoming a part of. However, over time, we have found ourselves returning to 2 churches in particular. And we (at least I) just really like them both and don't want to choose one over the other. So now I have gone from never wanting to set foot in a church again to being torn between 2 that are soooo different considering how much they actually have in common. Joshua Harris would be so disappointed in me, but yes, I am dating not one, but 2 churches and I'm just not ready to "commit" to either one.
There will probably be more on this later, but Lost is coming on.
Later
Monday, December 05, 2005
The story we find ourselves in. . .
One of Erik's classmates has offered to "adopt" our family for the holidays. My first impression upon hearing this was that someone was concerned that we don't have family here and wanted to offer us somewhere to go for the holidays. It was the furthest thing from my mind that someone would want to actually provide for us in the sense of gifts for the kids, food for a holiday meal and so forth. I mean, come on, that's not us. We have electricity. We have a place to live. Don't get me wrong. I'm not insulted at all and haven't even made a decision yet as to just how we should respond to this. I just don't know what to do with where we are in life right now. It feels so wrong to accept any help at all considering that we have a great apartment in such a nice area. There are so many others in much more dire circumstances. Yet the truth of our circumstances found me waiting to have my number called amongst the sea of people at the Department of Human Services because when the rubber hits the road our monthly expenses outweigh our monthly income. Even though Erik and I haven't discussed it, I think it's just understood that we're not getting gifts for one another this year. But the thing is, I don't feel sad at all about that. I don't necessarily want to be like this for every Christmas, but really, I'm good. And I think my kids will be okay as well, although Quincy has been talking more than ever before this year about what he is going to wish for for Christmas and I'm pretty sure we just can't follow through on it. So maybe we should let these people play Santa in a rather real and traditional sense of St. Nicholas.
Growing up, I never had any clue as to how difficult things were financially for my family. I knew that most of my friends had better stuff and more stuff than me, but it was really no big deal. I'm from the Ozarks. Lots of people struggled. But when I was about 16 someone anonymously left my family a trunk full of groceries. (I hadn't even noticed how bare the cabinets were since I primarily existed on cereal and Mac & Cheese.) Obviously, I never forgot that gift. I think sometimes we need to receive to understand better about giving.
I still don't know how I'm going to respond to this offer. I don't want to seize the opportunity to be "taken care of", but at the same time I believe it is a genuine act of kindness and I should be grateful. I do find myself, though, longing for the day that I can be on the other side of this scenario. Ugh. Gotta go chew on this.
Growing up, I never had any clue as to how difficult things were financially for my family. I knew that most of my friends had better stuff and more stuff than me, but it was really no big deal. I'm from the Ozarks. Lots of people struggled. But when I was about 16 someone anonymously left my family a trunk full of groceries. (I hadn't even noticed how bare the cabinets were since I primarily existed on cereal and Mac & Cheese.) Obviously, I never forgot that gift. I think sometimes we need to receive to understand better about giving.
I still don't know how I'm going to respond to this offer. I don't want to seize the opportunity to be "taken care of", but at the same time I believe it is a genuine act of kindness and I should be grateful. I do find myself, though, longing for the day that I can be on the other side of this scenario. Ugh. Gotta go chew on this.
What busy holidays?
Alrighty then, it looks like we have completed all of our "formal" holiday obligations in one fell swoop, and we're not even one full week into December. Last night was our work party and since we both work for the same place, that's it. Yea! And due to our current financial standing, Christmas shopping will consist probably of an afternoon trip to Target to snag a few things for the kids. My family in AR does white elephant so you really need to be present to participate, and my in-laws have informed us that their trip out here is kind of their gift to us and themselves. There is no room for a tree in our apartment and one full box of decorations is either buried in storage or never made it to OR, so decorating was a cinch. I will be sending out some Christmas cards, but I'm not too stressed about that.
I have to say, this really is quite nice. I looooove being at rest through the holidays rather than being consumed by them. I do still work retail so there is that madness to deal with, but at home, it's pretty much good. It's simple. I hate being over planned and completely scheduled. I'm too "type B" for that. And I have nothing in me that needs to conjure up some picture perfect holiday scene for my kids. I prefer instead to operate in reality and we are hardly picture perfect. I don't necessarily want all of our Christmases to be this "tight", but I do hope we are able to keep the simplicity with us. For me, it is so much more fun this way.
I have to say, this really is quite nice. I looooove being at rest through the holidays rather than being consumed by them. I do still work retail so there is that madness to deal with, but at home, it's pretty much good. It's simple. I hate being over planned and completely scheduled. I'm too "type B" for that. And I have nothing in me that needs to conjure up some picture perfect holiday scene for my kids. I prefer instead to operate in reality and we are hardly picture perfect. I don't necessarily want all of our Christmases to be this "tight", but I do hope we are able to keep the simplicity with us. For me, it is so much more fun this way.
Thursday, December 01, 2005
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)