Make God Laugh . . . Tell Him Your Plans

About eight months ago a friend posted on his blog that he had not heard from several of his fellow bloggers in some time and wanted to reopen the conversation that we have via the internet. Since we live so far from each other, blogging had become one of our few stable means of communication. Blogging for me was cathartic and healing. I grappled with some trying issues and personal struggles and in laying down my thoughts in written form, I was able to return to them, allow them to simmer, and let them go.


But, about a year ago, I realized that the issues I was facing and the struggles which were weighing on me were too personal to share on this blog. What was meant to be a faceless working out of my inner turmoils, became a source of turmoil for me. The nutshell version is that even though professionally everything looked like things were wonderful, things were not wonderful in this little part of paradise. My music groups were doing very well. My classes were much better than they were last spring. I took 4 graduate courses toward my ordination. Everything looked good on paper. But I began to believe, whether it was true or not, that I could not comment on some of the crazy things that were going on around me. I admit, the older I get the less I like conflict and conflict and drama seemed to be all that I could find wherever I looked. At home, everything was fine, but even there I began to seclude myself in my own private shell. I knew what was happening to me, but I felt helpless to do anything about it. I knew it was bad when, over the Christmas holidays I read 15 books, including all the Harry Potter books.


I promised myself when we moved to Florida that I would never feel trapped again by my surroundings or my situation, but here I was again in the midst of something that I could not control. I really wanted to hide. And, the sad part is that few people recognized what was going on. Last September, my church began looking for a new recreation director/minister for our new building and I was put in charge of posting our open position on the national ministry websites. I admit that from time to time I would look at open positions, wondering what life might be like wherever, but it had been quite some time since I had done this. So, when I started posting our open position, I also started to look at what might suit me better. Purely hypothetically, I had no intention of sending out resumes or seriously looking for anything new. It was September for Pete's sake. The girls had just started school. I looked anyway.


I came across a posting for a church in Albany, Georgia. I had to Google map it to figure out where it was. I was not really impressed, but I felt this odd compulsion to find out more about it. I sent in an inquiry email with a few questions. They responded back in all the appropriate ways, so I sent in a resume. I did not even attach references to this resume because I was not interested. I just really wanted another church to be interested in me. I would feel better about myself and get on with my life here. Pathetic. Well, later that week I got a call from this church asking for my references. I was in a quandary. Do I send them my references when I know I cannot possibly make a change now? I decided I could not and I told them to take my name off the list of potential candidates. It was done and over and that was that. Or so I thought.


About two weeks passed and I was going on my merry way when I got an email from someone I did not know. He said he was the youth pastor at the church in Albany. Oddly enough, he was a former Pentecostal as well. He told me that he and his wife had moved to Albany from a larger city a couple of years earlier. They were not really interested in moving, but were compelled by friends to come for a visit. They loved it. But, they could not get away quickly either and the church was willing to wait for them nine months before they were all in residence in Albany. I was in a bit of shock. He said that if I really felt like the timing was off that was fine, but if I was at all interested, I should resubmit my name because the church was willing to wait for the right person whenever it was right for everyone. I resubmitted my name and sent in references.


I admit that even doing this, I did not think anything would come of it. I think I was in such a low state that I could not see past my own existence to fathom that God might have a hand in all this. The funny thing is that I was so casual about all of this that I never told Misty until I resubmitted my name as a candidate. Let's say, she did not think it was all that funny. We got to looking at the town and schools and she got a little worried. Her main question was "Why there?" We have talked often about the possibility of a change in the future, but we always talked about moving to a bigger city, rich in culture, etc. This was definitely not what we were looking for. I told her not to worry about it. I did not want to move there anyway. I just wanted some encouragement. So we left it at that and months passed.


In December, my liaison to the search committee told me the church wanted me to come for a visit in January. I did not respond. Things were crazy in December at the church and they only got crazier in the new year. I finally responded to his email and told him I would not be able to come for a visit until early February. Their committee was okay with this and they sent me a packet of stuff to prepare for my visit. Well, things got even crazier at the church and I really felt like I would not be able to make a visit to Albany, but I began to realize that I would not remain in my current position much longer. Something just had to give. So, I called my liaison and talked to him about some things that I needed to know about his church and decided to make the trip after all.


What is funny about this whole process is that even with all of these signs pointing toward this little city in southwest Georgia, I still was not ready to say this was it. I had an interview with another church via telephone the night before I drove to Albany. It was in a nice church not very far from my old home. It was a great interview. I liked them. They liked me. We were on the phone for almost two hours.


As I drove into Albany the next morning, I thought to myself . . . the other church is the one. I think this church deserves a good interview, but I am just going to be myself and maybe not all that nice. What have I got to lose? This is not going to be a good fit. Misty really did not care for the place and was pretty adamant that this was not it, so I was prepared with some very pointed questions.


Then I met the staff and the committee and I cannot tell you how much at home I felt. It was kind of awful and wonderful. Most of the people I met seemed like old friends. It was astonishing. I still asked the questions. But I felt like I got the answers I needed. When I called Misty that night to tell her, she seemed different. She was okay with what I was telling her. Within a few days of my visit, she told the girls we might be making a move. You about had to pick me up off the floor. Within two weeks we went back to Albany to show the girls the town and the church. We had a great time. All the girls liked it. Two weeks later they offered me a job.


I admit that over the course of the first two months of this year I spent more time in prayer and daily Bible reading than I had in some time. I read through the Bible in 65 days. I cried more than I have in years. It seemed that I was only at peace when I was praying or reading the Bible. My family was praying for this whole situation, for a resolution to my personal crisis. And I believe the resolution has presented itself. Whereas we have enjoyed our time in Panama City, we are looking forward to a new chapter that will begin in the next couple of months.


I read this article in GQ this past month in which an odd source encapsulated my feelings about this entire period of searching: "If you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans." I have long been a planner and I even now I still want to know everything ahead of time. I am having to remind myself that because God has been so faithful throughout this process, I have nothing to fear. But I do hope you will pray with us as we make this transition.

Breaking Radio Silence

It has been over a month since I last blogged. May 2009 is the first month in a couple of years which has gone without comment from me here. I have been in a weird mood for the last several months that has made me not want to give my opinions on anything of validity in written form.

After my trip to Texas, I have been in a funk that I have not been able to get myself out of very easily. I do not think anything in particular is wrong, nor do I think I am ready for a move. I just think I am beginning to notice things around me that bother me more than I have let on. Part of the problem is that not everything I do fills my life with meaning. For most people, this would be a shake the dust off, get back on the horse, get over it moment. For me, it is a crisis because I need everything in my life to be filled with significance. I cannot merely go through the motions of my life, I need for each event to be filled with layer upon layer of meaning.

Some of this soul searching, I am sure, has to do with the normal letdown after Easter. But some of it has to do with those things that I feel make me who I am. My semester at the community college was not good. I absolutely hated my class and I dropped more than half of my voice students for absenteeism. I am finding more and more that my classes are filled with people who have no clue. They do not read. They are not even particularly well-versed in pop culture. If it is not on a reality program, they probably do not know anything about it. I have complained about this seeming lack of knowledge skills in younger folks these days at length before, but, for the first time, I began to question my ability to communicate with young adults. I have always felt like my ability to deal with college-aged people was one of my greatest gifts. I have consistently been able to find ways to speak into the lives of people who were on the cusp of becoming. But this ability seemed to evade me this semester.

Even worse, I began to doubt my interest in music. Always having to explain why I like the kind of music I like, why I spent my life learning about it, and why I feel the compulsion to perform and teach was wearing me out. I had not felt like that since I was much younger and less assured of myself. I was beginning to think maybe I would do something else in the years to come. I was starting to look at my upcoming coursework for ordination as a means to another, nonmusical end. I have never ever seriously considered the possibility of doing something other than music. True, there was a time when I was so unhappy in my old life that I thought about becoming a postal worker. I like mail. I got over it.

But here I was, thinking it might be nice to do something else, all because I was not receiving some kind of elusive validation that I needed. This is not to say that I do not receive validation here, because that is essentially untrue. I get a lot of validation from my church members and the members of the music ministry. For instance, I had a member of my choir mention to me a few weeks ago that they worried about what would happen after I left the church. I chuckled and told her that she did not need to worry about that. But she continued, indicating that she worried about it quite a bit. She mentioned some differences between me and the former music director and then she was on to another topic of conversation. Funny thing, this was the second conversation in as many days that basically has the same content. "You are not going to be here forever. What will happen then?"

I guess I should take this as a compliment (and I did). I just did not realize that people were already placing bets as to when I might leave the beautiful emerald coast. Granted, I have never thought of this sojourn as a forever deal, but I never realized it was obvious to those around me. Maybe this is because I live in a pretty transient part of the world. Many military folks come into Panama City and leave within a couple of years for other assignments, so no one is here forever unless they are here to retire. Or maybe it is what it is and I'll leave it at that. I will worry about times and seasons another day.

In other news~School is out finally for all our little angels. Madeline finished her preschool class without burning down the building. She is a bit moody and her teachers reminded me of this often. They just don't understand. Elizabeth got through Kindergarten in one piece. She told us that she would likely never see her teacher again, but her teacher goes to church with us, so she may have been premature in telling us this. Emma took her first FCat exam and made a perfect score on the math portion. She did not get this ability from her dad. She did not, however, make a relief map of the Holy Land which was my favorite part of third grade. I will have to plan to make one with her this summer.

Next week I begin my first two classes toward ordination. I decided to try to transfer in some courses and Asbury is allowing me 18 hours of credit, 6 hours of which will go fully toward the requirements for ordination. By the end of the year, I should be half way finished with my required courses. I just have to decide how much further I want to go after I finish those 30 hours or so. I may even be provisionally ordained by this time next year. Let's hope.

Angels and Demons

I read an interesting essay in today's New York Times by Dennis Overbye regarding the relationship of science and religion. This topic is at the forefront of the movie and book Angels and Demons by Dan Brown. For much of my life I saw these two arenas as mutually exclusive or, more precisely, science was a means to bunk religion. I may no longer hold to this hypothesis, but I know many still battle with synthesizing faith and science.

Here are a couple of excerpts from the article:


"The church advertises strength through certitude, but starting from the same collection of fables, commandments and aphorisms — love thy neighbor; thou shalt not kill; blessed are the meek for they will inherit the Earth — the religions of the world have reached an alarmingly diverse set of conclusions about what behaviors, like gay marriage, are right and wrong."

"In science the ends are justified by the means — what questions we ask and how we ask them — and the meaning of the quest is derived not from answers but from the process by which they are found: curiosity, doubt, humility, tolerance."


I particularly liked this process of curiosity, doubt, humility and tolerance, and the idea that the process is just as substantial as the answer. If you would like to read the essay for yourself, a link is provided below.

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/06/02/science/02essay.html?th&emc=th

Kingdoms

I don't know about you, but as I have written before, I do not like change very much. Granted, this is often not expressed in my life choices, but it is true all the same.

Since my trip to Texas, I have been pondering the idea of kingdom. Most of the time when I speak of kingdom, I am talking about the Kingdom of God and how it is demonstrated or not in this world. Today, I am speaking of another type of kingdom, the kind of kingdom we set up around us to make us feel significant and the lengths to which we will go to make sure this kingdom stands. I have set up kingdoms in my life to make me feel more important, whether the people around me knew they were a part of it or not.

I had a youth pastor back in the day tell me that having a "platform" was important and that I should continue to cultivate the "platform" I had created while growing up in Oklahoma. I did not take his advice, though I thought it was probably true. Even back then, God had a way of making me miserable when I did not do the things I should. God has a way of forcing me out into the world whether I want to go or not. A few years down the line, I wondered if I had done the wrong thing and considered the possibility of running back to my place of origin to recreate my lost kingdom. Of course, that kingdom no longer existed, but it made me feel so important.

The most significant kingdom I set up was the one I left three years ago. It was one of the hardest places to leave because it made me feel even more significant than the older one. I stayed longer than I should have because I could convince myself that I was affecting lives for the Kingdom, that I was doing a great work, all those wonderful godly things. But I was building a kingdom for myself. And, though God's picture was on the wall, He was not always at the heart of my kingdom, or even always a part of it. I was very angry with people, with God, especially God, for destroying my kingdom. I still toil with this one, even though I know God calls us to sacrifice that which we love most in order to be refashioned into His image.

What makes me sad, is that I know there are people who have played a significant role in my life, who are still the captives of their own kingdoms. And the irony is this: they think they are in control of their kingdom, that since they created it or better yet believe God created it for them, they are in the right to continue to cultivate their kingdom. Sometimes this means hurting other people. Sometimes it means doing whatever is necessary to defend the borders of our kingdom.

I had someone defend their kingdom from me once and I have never been hurt so much. I had no inclination to pull down even the facade of their kingdom, but questions lead to defensiveness and defensiveness leads to an attack. Attacks lead to casualties and I was one. I realize now that this was part of the process of God destroying my kingdom and I am grateful for that. It continues to be the greatest act of change that God has brought about in my life, and though I still struggle with the repercussions of it (that is what sacrifice entails) I continue to live in assurance that God is here with me on the back side of the moon. But I worry about the fall that may come to the one whose kingdom was greater than mine.

Now, how is your kingdom holding up?

The Blog Blues

If you haven't noticed, I have not posted anything of consequence to my blog in quite some time. Part of this has been because I have been really busy with Lent and Easter. Part of it is that I have not been in the mood to blog. Lots of things to talk about, but no energy to put my thoughts together. I guess I have the blog blues. Maybe I just have the blues.

Part of my problem is a lot of things are about to change around me and I never like that. Getting to know new people is always more energy draining for me and I kind of just wish I could just have people read my vitae and then act like we have known each other forever. You know, there is always that period of time in which you have to determine how much of yourself you can share with someone new. I find this a most difficult part of the process of getting to know someone, since I have to decide how much of a threat the new person is to me, and whether or not they are trustworthy enough to get to know more of me than most people know.

For example, I have a student who said I was hard to get to know. They knew my opinions on things, but did not really know me. Like, for instance, they wanted to get me a little something for my birthday last month, but had no idea what I would like. Is this weird? This student's concern was that because I have a broad base of interests and have been to a lot of different places, I may not be able to enjoy a simple gift. I think I like simple things above all, but how would they know? Is this a problem? Should I give more of myself in relationships?

My biggest problem with this conversation was that I think the people who count most to me, know how I feel about things and know what I like. Does everyone I know, or deem worthy, need to know everything about me? I think it is a matter of give and take. My closest friends did not learn of my quirky thoughts about certain topics the day I met them. It is a process. And there are some people that I feel I could never tell all of my thoughts because they would think I was evil. Maybe I am not giving them the benefit of the doubt, but I hear a lot from people, and painfully hear the subtext of too much of what people say (without actually saying it) to think that it is safe to share all of me with everyone. Is this even appropriate in a teacher-student relationship?

Even in my earlier life, I listened a lot and told stories from my life which were relevant to the situation at hand, but never felt the need to tell someone my favorite color or whether or not I like coil art (I do, of course).

Anyway, speaking of students, I went to Texas this past weekend to sing for a former student's wedding. This was the first time I had seen several of my former students since moving to Florida three years ago. I was excited and very reluctant all at the same time. There were those people I would love to see and some I could stand to wait a few more years to see. I think God must have known that I was not ready to see some folks, because they did not show up to the wedding. But I got to see a lot of people who were glad to see me and understood why I made the life change that I did. It was weird though to be back in those shoes once again. I was not completely comfortable, but tried my best to never let on.

I understand vaguely what it may be like when my daughters get married. This student was one of my favorites, and I believe, the only student that has ever gotten me to sing for their wedding. I met her in 2003 in Washington, D. C. She came in to audition for a scholarship. Immediately, she had all this personality and talent, and I just loved her. I was a young, but I felt very fatherly toward her and over the next few years she came to our house quite a bit, watched our girls, was friends with my wife, etc. We loved her and her friends. She and her little group were very difficult to leave, and I realized yet again how much of a sacrifice it was to give them up. Sacrifice is the total gift of something you love. Because of this, it made it all the harder to make this journey back in time. As long as I am here on the other side of the moon, I am too busy to face the grief. But returning, even for a good reason, was painful. I am glad I did it, but I was very glad when my plane touched down in northwest Florida again.

I do not mean to say that I want to go back, because I do not. I have found a home in the United Methodist Church and I look forward to starting classes this summer for my ordination process. I think that my mood might be better if this all had not come right on the tail of Easter. I am just exhausted from all of it really. Over the eight days of Holy Week, I had fifteen services. Absolutely crazy. And one of them was not at my own church. I sang for Easter Vigil Saturday evening at a Lutheran church. I left after an hour and 45 minutes. Granted, I had to be up before 4 am for our Easter sunrise service. And Good Friday service was all the choir pretty much, so it was a long week, followed by preparations for the wedding and travel to and from.

And you know how there is such a letdown after a big event. Anyway, I am looking forward to clearer skies and minds.

How have you been?

Jesus is an Elephant?

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Concert Wrap Up

Well, this past weekend was a marathon. Last Friday evening I had my last rehearsal for the Vaughan Williams' Five Mystical Songs before I performed them with the Pro Arte Chorale. I am glad that I allowed myself to be talked into singing these songs because it gave me a musical diversion from my normal fare. For the last three years, I have sung/performed/ministered in music constantly. I have never sung so much in my life, and that is hard to believe. In many ways it has been absolutely wonderful because, if I ever needed an appreciative audience/congregation, I have found it here. Granted, there are not a lot of exceptional performers here, especially in classical circles, so it is not hard to be one of the best. But it does make one feel good, if that is what one is seeking. But the truth is, I have gotten into a rut of singing mostly the same music, you know, for weddings and funerals, and worship music is not challenging in the least, so it was about time I did something noteworthy.

Problem is . . . it has been several years since I was really in the habit of singing challenging music, like close to ten years. The last time I gave a full classical vocal recital was in the fall of 1999 and the last time I had a real teacher was in 2000. So, I was out of practice and the choice of literature was very difficult, probably one of the more difficult song cycles I have ever performed. I mean, I would have rather performed a Schubert song cycle, all twenty songs worth. The range was not much to speak of, not much more than an octave, but the tessitura of these songs was really high for a baritone, so there was no down time. Thankfully, only four of the songs were for soloist, so I got to just listen to the chorale sing the final song.

Anyway, so I rehearsed Friday evening, performed the first concert Saturday evening, and had all my regular duties Sunday morning (three services, plus a lot of clean up/set up from a wedding the night before) before I drove to Santa Rosa Beach for the final concert Sunday afternoon. The first performance was fine, but I felt much more comfortable with the songs the second time around. I did get paid at least, so all the work was not in vain. Everyone was very pleased with my performances. One commented that the performance was like a night at the opera. Whatever. I really am my worst critic.

After the concert, I met the girls at Red Robin in Panama City Beach and we did a little shopping and came home. I never oversleep, but I was so tired the next morning that I woke up thirty minutes late. And, to top off an already zombie like Monday, I ended up having to sing for a funeral that afternoon. So 2 performances and 4 services in less than 48 hours.

The songs were based on five poems by George Herbert (1593-1633). Here is the text in its entirety:

Five Mystical Songs

Easter
Rise heart; thy Lord is risen.
Sing his praise Without delays,
Who takes thee by the hand,
that thou likewise With him may'st rise;
That, as his death calcined thee to dust,
His life may make thee gold, and much more, Just.

Awake, my lute, and struggle for thy part
With all thy art.
The cross taught all wood to resound his name
Who bore the same.
His stretched sinews taught all strings, what key
Is best to celebrate this most high day.

Consort both heart and lute, and twist a song
Pleasant and long: Or since all music is but three parts vied,
And multiplied; O let thy blessed Spirit bear a part,
And make up our defects with his sweet art.

I Got Me Flowers
I got me flowers to strew thy way;
I got me boughs off many a tree:
But thou wast up by break of day,
And brought'st thy sweets along with thee.

The Sun arising in the East,
Though he give light, and the East perfume;
If they should offer to contest
With thy arising, they presume.

Can there be any day but this,
Though many suns to shine endeavour?
We count three hundred, but we miss:
There is but one, and that one ever.

Love Bade Me Welcome
Love bade me welcome: yet my soul drew back,
Guilty of dust and sin.
But quick-ey'd Love, observing me grow slack
From my first entrance in,
Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning,
If I lack'd anything.

A guest, I answer'd, worthy to be here:
Love said, You shall be he.
I the unkind, ungrateful?
Ah, my dear, I cannot look on thee.
Love took my hand, and smiling did reply,
Who made the eyes but I?

Truth, Lord, but I have marr'd them: let my shame
Go where it doth deserve.
And know you not, says Love, who bore the blame?
My dear, then I will serve.
You must sit down, says Love, and taste my meat:
So I did sit and eat.

The Call
Come, my Way, my Truth, my Life:
Such a Way, as gives us breath:
Such a Truth, as ends all strife:
Such a Life, as killeth death.

Come, My Light, my Feast, my Strength:
Such a Light, as shows a feast:
Such a Feast, as mends in length:
Such a Strength, as makes his guest.

Come, my Joy, my Love, my Heart:
Such a Joy, as none can move:
Such a Love, as none can part:
Such a Heart, as joys in love.

Antiphon
Let all the world in every corner sing,
My God and King!

The heavens are not too high,
His praise may thither fly:
The earth is not too low,
His praises there may grow.

Let all the world in every corner sing,
My God and King!

The church with Psalms must shout.
No door can keep them out:
But above all, the heart
Must bear the longest part.

Let all the world in every corner sing,
My God and King!

Crisis of Faith

I don't know about you, or how you remember things, but I tend to remember feelings better than actual events. This can be good and bad. It is good in that I remember what it felt like to be a certain age or to have something happen to me, so I am better able to help someone who is going through a similar situation now. It is bad for the same reason. This talent does not always make the transition to my faith life. Whereas, I do remember all the crises God has helped me through, I tend to not be able to go the next step--He will help me through this present crisis. It has little to do with belief or faith in God. I think it has a lot to do with faith in myself.


For some time I have been a "fan" of Bart Ehrman's writings on the New Testament and the historical Jesus. Granted, most of them say about the same things, in only slightly different ways, but I still read most of his books when they are published. His latest book is called Jesus Interrupted, which deals with the problems found when one reads the Gospels horizontally (harmonized together) rather than vertically (each one has a theological story to tell in and of itself without the help of the other gospels). A good number of evangelicals think Dr. Ehrman is the devil incarnate. True, he does not think the same things about Jesus that evangelicals do, but I am not convinced he is evil in the flesh either. I think part of this is because some parts of his story resonate with me.


Ehrman has a born again experience as a teenager, was heavily involved in his church youth group. He eventually went to Moody Bible Institute to study the Bible and then on to Wheaton College to study English literature. I mean, it is hard to get more fundy than this. He was a hardliner fundamentalist who believe in the inerrancy of the Bible. In other words, the Bible is without error. Because he was such a good student and took to the study of koine Greek, he decided to go to Princeton Theological Seminary to study for a Master of Divinity. He knew this was a liberal seminary, but he wanted to study with the best professors. He eventually earned the MDiv and a Ph. D. from Princeton, but his belief in the Bible was not left in tact. He eventually became a more liberal Christian and then gave up any religious affiliation.


Ehrman swears his loss of faith had nothing to do with his realization that there were issues with the Biblical text--many variant manuscripts, problematic passages, etc. He says that the question of suffering, and more specifically how a loving God could allow suffering to the extent we see in much of the world, was the proverbial straw that broke his faith. He does not take issue with anyone who continues to practice the Christian faith, but for him, it does not resonate anymore.


Part of me completely understands his journey from fundamentalist to mainline Christian, from complete believer in the inerrancy of the Bible to dealing with problem passages that no one could give me a good answer to. My favorite is Jesus' statement to this effect: "Truly I say to you, this generation will not pass away until all these things take place." Did Jesus believe this or did he mean something else? Coming to terms with some of these things has been difficult. Earlier in my Christian life, this may have been a deal breaker, like the Da Vinci Code or something worse. But I began to realize that the truth was, our faith is just that--faith. If there is no way to doubt, what supernatural faith is necessary?


I remember a colleague at the Bible college complaining that a fellow professor was teaching that the Bible has errors. He was not happy about this, and gave me a "we all have to teach the party line" type answer. It bothered me that all the professors, including myself, knew that this professor was not incorrect in teaching his students that there were errors in the Bible, but we just don't talk about those types of things. And I think this is our worry with our people in the churches, that they cannot deal with the possibility that we truly have to base our beliefs on faith. I began to realize that a faith based solely on my belief that the Bible is completely accurate in all it says, causes my faith to be much more finite. This is not to say that my love for the Bible has waned. I just understand better that by looking at the Scriptures, along with church tradition, and the work of the Holy Spirit in the world today, that I see a more complete vision of the faith than can be seen by looking through the lens of only one.


But Ehrman's story does make me worry that I might end up where he is. Loving the Scriptures, but not finding life in them anymore. Getting to a point where I readily dismiss the moving of the Holy Spirit in my life. Again, much of the time, I have more faith in God than I do in my ability to believe in myself. And, part of me still fights with the inner demon (or angel, depending on your perspective) that wants me to go back into the prison that confined my ability to understand that much about God is not understandable and that is okay.


P. S.: No comments about my salvation, please. No lectures on the evils of reading things that cause you to think outside of your faith box. Long past that argument. In fact, I think doing just that can make your faith stronger, unless it was too weak to begin with. . .

Coming Evangelical Collapse

I have not been in the blogging mood for some time. I have had several things that have been on my mind, but I just have not had the energy to put anything into the ether about my pet topics. I mean, gee whiz, I never talked about Rush Limbaugh and his tirade(s) and whether or not he is the de facto leader of the Republican party. Granted, if he is throwing the party I am not going, but I would likely not be invited anyway, so . . . hmm.

A couple of weeks ago, an old friend brought this article about the coming evangelical collapse to my attention. There are a lot of interesting thoughts and predictions about ministries ending, churches closing, and political clout evaporating. The main reasons Michael Spencer gives are as follows:

1. Evangelicals have identified their movement with the culture war and with political conservatism. This will prove to be a very costly mistake. Evangelicals will increasingly be seen as a threat to cultural progress. Public leaders will consider us bad for America, bad for education, bad for children, and bad for society.

2. We Evangelicals have failed to pass on to our young people an orthodox form of faith that can take root and survive the secular onslaught. Ironically, the billions of dollars we've spent on youth ministers, Christian music, publishing, and media has produced a culture of young Christians who know next to nothing about their own faith except how they feel about it.

3. There are three kinds of evangelical churches today: consumer-driven megachurches, dying churches, and new churches whose future is fragile. Denominations will shrink, even vanish, while fewer and fewer evangelical churches will survive and thrive.

4. Despite some very successful developments in the past 25 years, Christian education has not produced a product that can withstand the rising tide of secularism. Evangelicalism has used its educational system primarily to staff its own needs and talk to itself.

5. The confrontation between cultural secularism and the faith at the core of evangelical efforts to "do good" is rapidly approaching. We will soon see that the good Evangelicals want to do will be viewed as bad by so many, and much of that work will not be done. Look for ministries to take on a less and less distinctively Christian face in order to survive.

6. Even in areas where Evangelicals imagine themselves strong (like the Bible Belt), we will find a great inability to pass on to our children a vital evangelical confidence in the Bible and the importance of the faith.

7. The money will dry up.

I think these are some significant questions that many of us have been asking for quite some time, but again, it is good to see these things in print. You can also check out Spencer's blog "Internet Monk" here.

In other personal news:

1. I decided to register for classes this summer, so it looks like I am really going to go back to school. Thankfully, I have several avenues for funding. So, at the very most I will only have to pay for half of my tuition. And, I decided to change to a Master of Divinity program. I should be shot, but I think I will be able to transfer in enough graduate credits to make the MDiv within striking distance of a regular MA (TS) degree. And, I have chosen to start with courses that will work toward my ordination, which means by the end of the year, I may be a provisional deacon. So, hold on, it's gonna be a bumpy ride.

2. Out little Elizabeth was student of the quarter for her Kindergarten class this past 9 weeks. We were a little surprised since Liz is not much for the book learnin.' She was so pleased. It was nice for her to win a big award since she lives with Marcia Brady.

3. I am in the final stages of preparing for my big concert this weekend. I have come to realize that the performance side of me is drying up. The music (Vaughan Williams' 5 Mystical Songs) is wonderful, but I would rather not be the one singing them. This is difficult for those around me to understand because they think that music should be the most fun job ever (and it is, or can be). But I am thinking long and hard about what role music will play in the next chapter of my life, my ordained life.

Now, how's that for opening a kettle of fish?

Purgatory?

I was reading Greg Boyd's blog the other day and noticed this entry on the doctrine of purgatory and how it relates to suicide. I have never heard a Protestant give such a good apologetic for believing in the possibility of a place of refining before entering the pearly gates.

Here is an excerpt:

"The trouble is that, like most evangelicals, this young man held the view that our character is magically made perfect the moment we die. Sanctification may be hard during this life, this view holds, but if you’re “saved” you’re perfected and all struggles cease the moment you die.
Tragically, this belief not only encourages suicide for people who are desperately tired of the struggle, but it also seems to make sanctification in this life optional. Many wonder why they should go through all the hard work of character refinement in this life if they’re going to instantly be made perfect the moment after they take their last breath? I’m convinced this belief, together with the common “legal” view of “justification,” is largely behind the epidemic apathy toward Christ-like holiness that characterizes the modern western church."


To read the article in its entirety, follow this link.

Thoughts?

Forgetfulness and Other Random Thoughts for March

These past couple of weeks have been somewhat nondescript. I have been really busy and have had several thoughts that I wanted to post, but never seemed to have the energy to put them down in print. So here goes with a wrap up of thoughts for the past two weeks.

I saw a church billboard that read: "Jesus, your tour guide in heaven." I don't think I have ever been so offended in my life that Jesus has been reduced to a tour guide. You know all of that dying for our sins to bring us back into relationship with God was all so that he could serve as a tour guide for us when we get to heaven. And you know, that is the only reason to be a Christian is so we can go to heaven. This sighting came quickly on the heels of a status post I read on Facebook that went something like: "____ wishes Jesus would come back today more than ever before." I am bothered when we use Jesus' imminent return as a way to get out of our troubles here on earth. Whenever someone says something like this to me, my first thought is: "Dear God, what if He did come today? How much of His work is still left to be done, primarily because we won't do it? It absolutely terrifies me--the thought that Jesus might return and find us working on all manner of things that have no eternal value.

I like this quote about service from Chris Loder's book, The Logic of the Spirit: Human Development in Theological Perspective:

“Christian self-understanding drives toward the goal of giving love
sacrificially with integrity after the pattern of Christ. This means the willing
breaking of one’s wholeness potential for the sake of another, a free choice
that has nothing to do with oppression because it is an act of integrity and
everything to do with Christ’s free choice to go to the cross as an act of
love.”

This reminded me of a former post of mine, something to the effect that "you know you are a servant when you are treated like one and it does not bother you."

And one last thing: About two weeks ago, an old friend posted a picture of me on Facebook. This is not newsworthy, except that I could not remember the event at all. I commented to her that I had absolutely no recollection of the event at all and she sent me another picture demonstrating, yet again, that I was indeed present on this certain occasion. When I got to thinking about when that picture was taken, I remembered that it was a very difficult time for me and much of that period I have forgotten. It was a time of great disappointment and what I do remember was being in a cloud most of the time and tending only to those things that had to be dealt with. It was good to have friends help me out of my funk. Melancholy thoughts.

I guess we all have times like that where we are just going through the motions in life, when everything is just a barrier to have to cross in order to make it through to the next day. I have less of these periods than I used to have, maybe because I have lowered my expectations or I have begun to understand how I deal with stressors (people and/or events) better. I am also better equipped to deal with melancholy thoughts than I was back in the day. I remember my senior year in high school I made those chocolate oatmeal no-bake cookies every week and ate them all myself. Now, I usually try to go for a run and then eat the cookies. Kind of balances out that way. (Truth is, I can't make those cookies anymore. The last two times I tried, they failed miserably. The last time I tried to make them with Splenda. I think I had to throw away the pot I made them in.)

Oh well, enough of that.

In other news ~ We had a very nice Ash Wednesday service this past week at the church. Very moving. We imposed ashes on everyone, had communion, and gave everyone a rock which stood for sins that we need to conquer. On Good Friday, we are supposed to bring our rock back and lay it at the foot of the cross as a symbol that we have given it to the Lord. I really like that I am a part of a church that celebrates Lent. You know, I love to feel bad about myself and for forty days that is okay.

My middle child, Elizabeth, had a good report from the eye doctor. About a month ago she failed an eye balance screening. Don't know what that means, but she was referred to a specialist who could not find anything wrong with her. Hallelu. I just could not imagine sending her to school with an eye patch. She would have made a cute pirate, but she already deals with enough Jan Bradyisms that I could not bear the thought of causing her any undue grief.

I had my first rehearsal with the Pro Arte Chorale this past weekend. I have been engaged as the soloist on Ralph Vaughan Williams' Five Mystical Songs. It should be interesting. This is my first classical solo gig in quite some time. I am a little nervous, but things went fairly well. I still need some practice, but at least the songs are in English and so I don't have to translate anything.

Maybe You Are Not an Artist

I have long been a fan of the HBO series Six Feet Under, about the Fishers, a Los Angeles family that owns and lives in a funeral home. I am not quite sure what it is about this show that drew me to it in the first place. As I recall, I became aware of the show at a time when I had lost someone close to me, and it was kind of cathartic in a macabre kind of way. The characters are completely honest and very flawed. When I watched it, I felt like a voyeur, peering into the everyday lives of these very troubled, yet realistic people.

Over the past couple of weeks, I have been in a weird state of mind, on an emotional roller coaster that tends to be the underlying script of my life at times. Going from moment of crisis to moment of crisis, trying my best to enjoy the space in between. Last week, I started to get a sinus infection, and, as much as I might want to live a nonmusical life for a while, it is always very aggravating when I am not able to function. I had to have someone else take care of some of my duties on Sunday morning since I could barely talk. So, as is often the case when I need to be quiet and get over something, I spent much of the weekend in my room watching television. Misty was supposed to be out of town this weekend, but there were mechanical difficulties with her plane and so she decided it was a sign that she was not supposed to go after all. Thank God, because I felt so bad it would have been difficult to be mommy and daddy for four days straight.

So, over the course of the weekend I watched the final season of Six Feet Under and came across this amazing scene. Over the course of the five seasons, Claire Fisher, the youngest member of the family by quite a few years, spends much of her time trying to find herself. She is in high school when we meet the family and then spends a couple of years in art school before leaving to find her way in the world. During the last season, she is adrift in this search for self and she applies for an emerging artists grant. She has no question she will get the grant.

One day, Claire's aunt Sarah, who has spent most of her life as an artist/bohemian, has come for a visit. They are sitting at the table when Claire receives the letter informing her that she has not received the grant. She is visibly upset by the news, but her aunt seems completely unmoved by the news, suggesting that there would be other grants in the future. And then she drops the bomb that went something like this:

Sarah: Maybe you are not an artist.

Claire: How dare you say that?

Sarah: Did you feel angry when I said that to you?

Claire: Of course!

Sarah: Maybe you are not really an artist because you felt anger. If you really are an artist, you'll just laugh at me. Like if you tell me that I am purple, I'll just laugh because that is not true.

How often do we feel the need to defend our choices? If we truly are something, an artist or whatever, should that fact define us so much that we laugh when someone would suggest otherwise? I have not fully wrapped my head around this yet. I know there have been times when I have defended myself when there was no point. These times come less and less as I grow up and become more comfortable with me, but the impulse is still there. Does the fact that someone questions something about you make you start to question yourself? If you really are _______ then you should know it enough to not allow someone to call into question your existence or your choice or whatever. I guess the reverse is: If someone can change your mind about who you are, then were you ever ______ to begin with?

Thoughts?

Thought-Provoking Devotional Readings

Lately, I have been reading A Slice of Infinity, a daily devotional reading distributed by Ravi Zacharias International Ministries. They are always thought provoking. Some more so than others. Here is a snippet from today's slice, written by L.T. Jeyachandran:

In this, no contemplation of the beauty and glory of God within a community
of believers can be complete without some understanding of the relationship
between the Three Persons of the Trinity. The image God has given us in the
Trinity is an image of three co-eternal, co-equal Persons giving themselves to
one another in eternal self-effacement. The glory of our God is not a
thunder-and-lighting quality, but a self-giving love within the Trinity.
And Jesus's prayer for his disciples (and us) is that this same glory may be
given to us that we "may be one" even as they are one. Is there any question why
servanthood and relationship-building is no longer an optional extra for the
Christian but essential to reflecting the glory of the Triune God?

If you are interested, here is a link to the RZIM website where you can "sign up" for a daily slice.

Losing It

Okay, so I usually do my best to keep my cool and never let things get to me publicly. Well, today was a weird day. I woke up early and ran on the treadmill. Fine. Madeline was up really early and so our routine was off. I forgot her favorite blanket, the one she cannot live without. Granted, she did not realize we were sans blanket until we were almost to church. By that time it was too late. My sister had surgery this morning, so I admit, I was worried most of the morning and not really myself. I hate being so far away for big things like this. And these last couple of days have been really busy for no apparent reason. Lots of folks bearing their souls and all and I have been kind of emotionally drained as a result.

So, I went to class at 12:30 and played a video for a few minutes and went on with my lecture on Baroque vocal music. If I have favorite topics, this is one of them. We talked about castrati and Monteverdi and Purcell and Handel. We listened to some fine music and then I went berserk (in a professional manner, of course). I noticed all along a couple of students talking amongst themselves. I usually take no issue with this behavior, at least they are engaging the subject even if it is in a negative way. But then, three or four of them started putting their heads down on their desks. I was not really happy and so I told them so.

I basically told them the following:

1. You are paying for this class.

2. If I have to be here then you have to be here and be engaged.

3. It is rude to treat a professor in this manner.

4. You can leave, but I will count you absent.

5. I really do not care if you do not enjoy this material, it is part of the class that you paid for.

6. If you do not want to be cultural morons, you need to have a cursory knowledge of music and art.

Well I left off the last one, but it is true.

I am sort of over it, but I let class out a little early because my train of thought was gone at that point. And I am as entertaining as the material will allow me to be. How often can one relate the music of the Renaissance to Brittany Spears? It is hard to do friends. I have one student who likes to get up every class period and leave to go the restroom. I want to say, "You are an adult and you can probably go before class." He also fits a horrible stereotype that us progressives hate to admit to most of the time, but that topic is for another day. I am becoming more and more concerned with student performance. I have talked about this before, but it is alarming how passive my students are. They are used to being told how to think, they watch so much television and spend so much time on the internet they have grown passive to the learning process. They think they can act however they want since the professor is there whether or not they engage in the class or are there physically at all--just like a TV or a computer. It worries me. Granted, these are not Ivy Leaguers here, but I think one can expect some sense of decorum in the classroom.

I can say in all honesty that I did not enjoy several classes I took in college, but I had the decency to skip those classes when I thought I could not pretend to be interested. Take for instance the one class I made a C in ever. I had this early morning general physics course that met like 4 times a week and did not have a real attendance policy. I hated this course because I was stupid enough to wait until my Junior year to take it and all I wanted to take were music courses by that time. So, I never went, showed up for tests, turned in my paper and did pretty well in the class until the final. All I needed was like a 70 to get a B in the class and I ended up with a C. According to the Preppy Handbook it is perfectly legitimate to earn a C in a science class. It is completely inappropriate to earn one in Music Appreciation. But several of my students may be well on their way.

Oh well, I am probably getting old and glossing over much that I wish to forget, but it does bother me that my students on the whole are not able to synthesize information very well. For instance, I try to set the music we listen to and study in historical and cultural context. I try to remember what I would have known coming out of high school and attempt to relate the music to those areas of literature, history, etc. that I think they should know. I feel like the professor in Ferris Bueller half the time. No one seems to know any of these things, and worse yet they seem to wonder what possible good there would be in knowing these things. I think this perceived apathy is what sent me over the edge today. I was just tired of it.

And another thing: What movies are young people watching today that speak to their generation? I am having a hard time figuring this one out, so help me here. I was up late last Thursday night watching Ferris Bueller's Day Off and really began to wonder about what defining pop-cultural moments they have had. I mean, we had the John Hughes oeuvre (Sixteen Candles, The Breakfast Club) and Bueller, Better Off Dead, et al. But what is their defining movie? Does this matter anymore? Have the youth of America become too ironic or too detached to be defined by something like a movie?

BTW: Has anybody seen my 2 dollars?

25 Things About Me

I have been tagged too many times on Facebook, so I decided to make my list of things about me available here. I have attempted to be honest.


1. I have been singing since I was three and do not really remember a time when music was not a part of my life.
2. When I was little, I had this uncanny ability to remember minutiae from my early childhood. It was really freaky. It is going away.
3. Because I can remember minutiae, I know exactly how I felt every time something good or not so good happened to me as a child.
4. I have an irrational fear of “little people.”
5. Quirky things make me very happy, e. g.: garden gnomes, a limerick, “Jesus junk,” trinkets, etc.
6. I have too many Bibles. I worry that by buying another one, I will be snatching up one that a sinner might want. But most of the ones I buy no one would want.
7. I love chocolate. It is my dark master. I especially like it in Dove form, or Godiva chocolate cheesecake, or those discs of chocolate you get at European airports, or . . .
8. I read all the time and I have an addiction to magazine subscriptions. I think right now I get about a dozen magazines and journals each month. It frightens me.
9. I have a slight addiction to the news and I cannot go a day without watching CNN or listening to NPR.
10. I drink about a gallon of water a day. It is a good habit, but has its repercussions.
11. Most of the time I feel like a big sinner. I have a lot of guilt.
12. I used to pray every night to be re-saved because I just knew there was some sin that I had not dealt with that day and Jesus would come and I would go to hell. See #11.
13. I am always on a diet or thinking about being on a diet.
14. I actually like to run on the treadmill. It is mindless and I need that for obvious and less noticeable reasons. See #13.
15. I have never been a “kid person” and so it amuses me that I have three children now. I am not afraid of these “little people.”
16. I moved around a lot as a child and so, for me, it was a big deal to move across the country to start my new life. I have come to realize that stability is in the eye of the beholder.
17. I like being a Methodist. I can be more myself. I will likely be ordained within a couple of years.
18. People think I am a conservative, but I am probably one of the most progressive people in my social circle.
19. I love to travel and have set foot on five continents. If I had the time or the money, this might be all I ever did. Problem is, most of the places I want to visit are not all that safe.
20. I love fried foods but they do not love me. See #13.
21. I love ice cream, but I am becoming a bit lactose intolerant. I am very angry about this. See #13.
22. I love to go to museums and it frustrates me that I do not live close to any good ones right now. I think it would be interesting to work as a museum director.
23. If I had another life to live, I might have been an archaeologist. I would really like to go on a dig.
24. I sometimes wonder what it would be like to not be musical, to just be a normal person. I would also like to go places and not have people ask me to sing, or lead worship, or ask me about music.
25. I have a gift/curse which allows people to be completely honest with me and tell me their entire life stories. This happens to me all the time and it is both annoying and rewarding at the same time.

God Hates Shrimp

I think this is funny. Check out this website which gives an ironic look at how some use certain passages in the Old Testament to fuel the whole anti-gay movement. I am not defending or condoning anything here, but it is interesting food for thought that we tend to take what we like and leave the rest as "cultural." And, I admit, that according to Leviticus 11 and Deuteronomy 14, I am a big ol' sinner since last Friday I went to the Japanese steak house and had me a bunch of scrimps.

Here is a blurb from the site "God Hates Shrimp":

"Shrimp, crab, lobster, clams, mussels, all these are an abomination before the Lord, just as gays are an abomination. Why stop at protesting gay marriage? Bring all of God's law unto the heathens and the sodomites. We call upon all Christians to join the crusade against Long John Silver's and Red Lobster. Yea, even Popeye's shall be cleansed. The name of Bubba shall be anathema. We must stop the unbelievers from destroying the sanctity of our restaurants."

On the "About" page, the authors state:

"The point we're trying to make is that by using the Old Testament (specifically the book of Leviticus) as a basis for protesting gay marriage, you run into a couple of problems. The first is that in the New Testament, Jesus established the New Covenant, which stated that the old Mosaic laws about unclean things were invalid (Jesus in his own person said nothing specifically against homosexuality, although Paul later attributed some remarks to him). The second reason is that if you still want to quote from Leviticus, despite Jesus' doing away with Mosaic law, then you better be prepared to enforce the whole thing, not just the parts you like. This includes not only the injunction against shellfish and mussels and such, but also against wearing fabrics made of blended fibers, cutting or shaving your beard, sowing mixed seed in a field, and a slew of other things nobody but Orthodox Jews take seriously anymore."

Thoughts?

Groundhog Day and Leaving "the" Ministry

So, it is Groundhog Day. I have never quite understood the point of a groundhog seeing his shadow. But it appears that because Punxsutawny Phil saw his shadow earlier today and so we are in for another six weeks of winter. I could have told them that and saved them the trouble of molesting that poor groundhog, but again, I wasn't asked. When will people learn?

This week marks the three year anniversary of our move to Florida. And, honestly, it seems kind of anticlimactic at this point. It seems so normal. Kind of dull really, but also very much like what home should feel like. I take this as a good sign. The family is content and no one feels any inclination whatsoever to make any changes at present. I think this is a good thing for now as well.

I have given a lot of thought to what it must be like for ministers who leave vocational ministry to do something else. Of course ministers leave full-time church ministry for a lot of reasons. I have known those who got burned out by working too long with aggravating church members, those who just got tired, and those who had to leave because they did something inappropriate and were forced to leave.

Some of my interest in this topic has been sparked by the recent documentary concerning Ted Haggard that Alexandra Pelosi made for HBO, The Trials of Ted Haggard. The documentary begins with his high-profile ministry in Colorado when he was president of the National Association of Evangelicals and quickly moves into the period following the allegations that he had issues with drugs and homosexuality. Of course, he admitted to these things eventually, and others, including a more recent report that he had an inappropriate relationship with a male intern at the New Life Church. He had to live outside of Colorado for a year, find other work, and was barred from ever entering the church he founded. It was pretty much an awful experience. He was completely debased.

Pelosi asked Haggard why he never told anyone he had these struggles and he told her that he was afraid he would lose everything, his social standing, his marriage, his children, his friends, and his church. He lost everything except his family as a result of his choices. He had to try to figure out how to live life outside of the church. I have always wondered how people do this when they have never lived anywhere else. Haggard admitted he had never been on a job interview in his life and he was really left without much recourse since he had no marketable skills.

I do not condone what Haggard did. I feel sorry for him because I understand how it feels to not want to admit you deal with doubts or anything else that does not line up identically with the evangelical ideal. I think his abuse of power was a fundamental flaw in the evangelical framework, and when someone is struggling with such deep seated issues, and really should remove themselves from the situation, it is made all the harder to deal with problems when you are the leader. I am sure many ministers deal with these issues of power and how to work out their own sins and shortcomings. But who wants to admit that we are not living up to what God wants us to be? Being placed on a pedestal, and Haggard definitely was on a big one, makes the fall from grace all the worse.

Back to my topic: How do ministers deal with normal life? Ted Haggard admitted that he had no idea what to do. I have often thought more of the changes I have made in my life than I really should have. Granted, they were big for me at the time, but when I am honest, I realize that the fundamental way in which I view myself has not changed all that much. When I look back at my old life, I was a full-time music professor and a part-time church musician. Today, I have those roles reversed, but they are still the same roles. I never stopped working within this same framework. Only the time spent with each has changed. Now, I don't want to diminish the changes I have made. They have allowed me to further get to know myself and in the process understand better my place in the world and in the Kingdom. And they have allowed me to be more honest with myself and with others, something I did not think was possible before. I digress.

So how does a minister deal with becoming a salesman or teacher or whatever? Does it mean that their calling has changed? Does it mean they never really had a calling? Is it a lull in their life plan? Does it matter? Do we place too much emphasis on the role of the "the" in "the ministry"? I am a firm believer that most real ministry occurs outside any church building, so maybe it is better when ministers are led (again, for whatever reason) to leave full-time church ministries, even for unfortunate reasons. Maybe this is a way for true ministry to happen in everyday places, places most full-time pastors could never go. . .

P. S.: I need more followers. If you regularly or irregularly read my little slice of the blogosphere, please become one of my faithful few. The link is to your right.

I Won't Grow Up

The other day, I was responding to a "friend" request from another person that I had not thought about in almost 20 years. Lately, I have noticed an upward swing in old "friends" finding me on Facebook and wanting to get reacquainted. Honestly, most of this has been funny to me. I don't know what it is about 20-year reunions, but it seems like more people begin to wonder about what "old so-and-so" is doing these days around the 20 year mark. I remember my mother-in-law telling me years ago that people start to be interested in old friends then because they are less interested in impressing old rivals, and more truly curious about people from back in the day. Personally, I think most people, when they join Facebook, become friend sluts and want as many as they possibly can. Truth be told, I have been de-friending people lately, mostly my more recent students, but sometimes people who send me things I hate. You know what I am talking about. And all those people who keep posting pictures of me, your time is coming.

When I was living in Texas, I worked with a person who had far more contacts back into my life in Oklahoma than I ever kept. I never felt bad about that. I always thought if those people wanted me to know what was going on in their lives, they would find me and let me know. But, because of this person, I knew everything that was going on with just about anyone I would care (or not care, for that matter) to know about. In many ways, this was mildly annoying. I wasn't really interested in what "old so-and-so" was up to, but I always got at least a weekly dose whether I needed it or not. When I moved to Florida this all dried up and I was all right with that. Until, out of the blue, some messages from members of my graduating class appeared in my inbox. And another friend invited me to join Facebook, and now my friends list is full of these people--people that I really had nothing in common with except geography. Still, it has been an interesting exercise getting acquainted all over again with these people, whose names are forever etched on my psyche (for both good and bad reasons respectively). It is amazing how comfortable and comforting it is to hear from someone I have known since 1976, despite the interlude of a dozen or more years. On a side note: Some of these folks have been very forthright in our conversations, in a way that you would be with a very close friend. It is my curse.

Which brings me to my thought for today: I do not like being a grown up. For much of my life, I was way too old for my age. I remember being such a fundy about music and insert something to be fundamentalist about, that I never had any time to have fun. And, I had to deal with some grown up things about myself earlier than some have to deal with them, so I always felt a little too old for my body. I chose friends that were like this as well. Way too serious. I always thought, "When I am 35, I will have finally grown into myself and feel comfortable that my inward age and outward age would be more in line." Well, this year I turn 37 and I can say unequivocally that I am not liking the being a grown up after all.

I realize that much of my outward expressions of seriousness and maturity couched a deep insecurity and immaturity. And, although I don't really deal with major insecurity anymore, I still feel so completely unprepared to deal with real-life struggles. Maybe everyone deals with these feelings. Maybe it is just me. I have talked about this before, but the older I get the more I wonder if I lived up to my potential, and not just the potential that others saw in me, but the potential I believed I had myself. The other day, I was wondering about greatness, and whether or not I will ever achieve any semblance of such, when I was quickly brought back to reality. I was talking to a woman yesterday who has very few options for jobs, and it really hit home to me that things could be much worse. Here I am wondering about what mark I will make on the world, and I really have it pretty easy. I get to set my own schedule. I get to do basically what I want, when I want. The church allows me to teach and thinks it is a good thing for me to do things in the community. Maybe I should not worry about being great.

All of this brings me back to my point, that I have not enjoyed becoming an adult. Maybe I thought being a grown up would mean I would not worry anymore. Maybe I really was a child. Maybe, I still am.

You're My Only Hope

Well, it has been a week since the inauguration. The earth is still spinning, just in case any Dobsonites were worried the world might indeed come to a fiery end the day after Obama became President. I must admit that I was completely overwhelmed at the whole process. Tuesday at one o'clock, I went home to run on the treadmill (yes, I am back to that again--just can't seem to regulate my weight without it) and watch the inauguration again that I watched the first time over the internet at the church. Since not everyone there is as thrilled as I am, I had to keep it on the down low. No crying or anything. I admit that his speech was not what I anticipated. It got better as it went on. First half: meh. Second half: back to Obama's eloquent form.

We may try to take our children to DC this summer to show them all of the monuments and the museums. Our poor children. I realized yesterday that we have become the Keaton family of Family Ties fame. I am just assured our children will be the most conservative of conservatives, and there Misty and I will be in our old age hippiedom. It is a work in progress, I understand, since no one would take us for hippies now. But wait, our day is coming.

Lots of things are going on around me, but right now I seem to be immune to the craziness. I am grateful for this for now.

In other news: Emma was the "Student of the Quarter" for her class this past quarter. The school no longer gives out "Student of the Month" awards, so this is a bigger deal. Marcia Brady strikes again.

We have become Mormons. Well, not exactly, but we have established a family game night each Saturday evening. We have dinner and play a board game. It is a little cultish, I know, but we are trying to spend quality time engaging our children now that they are getting a little older. I feel like a Dugger. No wait, do they play board games or is that evil?

The girls planted a tree today in honor of Misty's father. Let's pray that the winter does not return. Last week it was in the 20s in Florida. Today it was back in the 70s. I am confused.

Otherwise, this has been a dull week. I really thought change was a-comin.' Help me Obama Wan Kenobi, you're my only hope.