random

Random thoughts from my brain to yours this week . . . have at them.

“Jesus for President” is one of the coolest books. I am thankful for our study group. The discussion has been awesome. Quotes that got me thinking:

“It is hard to imagine a gospel that is more of an antitheses of Jesus’ gospel and the Beatitudes than what we hear today in the church: “Blessed are the rich”; “Blessed are the troops”; “We will have no mercy on the evildoers.”

So are we saying the United States of America is not a Christian nation? The United States is Christian inasmuch as it looks like Christ.p174

The more the early Christians reflected on the life and message of their rabbi-messiah, and the more they tried to live the way of the gospel, the harder they collided with the state and its hopes and dreams, militaries and markets. In fact, Christians in those first few hundred years were called atheists because they no longer believed in the Roman gospel; they no longer had any faith in the state as savior of the world. p141

[John] did not simply argue that various aspects of the market exploit this or that; rather he placed his concerns in light of a cosmological struggle between right and wrong…is is possible we can’t see the destructiveness of our economy not because we don’t know it’s terrible but because deep down, we feel that it’s necessary and that therefore it’s hopeless to criticize it?p153

Restaurant chips and salsa are the bane of my diet, or should I say lack thereof? Following a close second are those chocolate covered coffee beans Sylvia brought to study group last Sunday. Ack! Although, I was able to beat my whole team in three games straight later that night at bowling league. Secret weapon? Hmmm.

There simply needs to be more time in a day so I can catch up on books. Of course, if I’d stop acquiring them, then I might actually do it in 24. Yeah, right.

Change is good. Change can hurt. Change is really the only constant in life. How’s that for an oxymoron? Nothing like living in THAT tension.

Looking forward to the CSM mission trip to Philly. I’ve got a feeling this is will be life-changing service in less than a month for all of us. They always are, anyways.

How can people refuse aid to help all the suffering in Myanmar? How horrible to be thirsty and have children suffering like that. What makes people refuse aid? I don’t get it. I just don’t get it.

Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly. Martin Luther King, Jr.

Church politics. Another oxymoron, but true in every place I’ve ever been. Even this one. Guess it’s time to read a few pep-talk letters to churches from Paul. I swear humans will never get that part right. Great googlymoogly.

I got a bowling ball for Mother’s Day. The color is called “Black Raspberry”

which is a combination of black, silver, deep red and sparkles. I’ve named it “Rocket Dog”. I have no idea why I named it that. Yes, I know it is a shoe brand, but the name is cool and I’m keeping it.

I am reading a book now call, “The Gutter: Where Life is Meant to be Lived,” by Craig Gross What are my gutters? Where am I afraid to go that Jesus is calling me to go? Am I listening and following? I really do live in the Suburb desert. Gross. Quotes from that book:

“When I accepted Christ as my saviour, I was lifted out of the gutter, but I was not made better than those who remained.”
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“Don’t blame the dark for being dark. Blame the light for not shining on the dark.”
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“While the Church at large is great at telling people to avoid their gutters, I’ve found that this approach just doesn’t work anymore. … Things have changed, and people don’t do things just because they’re told to do them or because those things are expected of them. So we as a Church have to change our approach and get dirty. Modern Christians must take risks and get out of their comfortable pews and classrooms and do something for God. If we don’t, who will?”


From the Save Darfur website today: “Reports indicate that the government is detaining, torturing and killing Darfuris in and around Khartoum, and that janjaweed militias have commenced attacks in North Darfur. The international community must demand an immediate end to atrocities, speed up deployment of peacekeepers, and make clear to all sides that there is no violent solution to this conflict.”

I can’t stop thinking about the people of Darfur. I wonder if I am doing enough to help them. I know I am not. I am not sure what else to do. I would go to Sudan if I could swing it in a minute. (Now that’s something I would have never said a year ago.)

Thou shalt not be a victim. Thou shalt not be a perpetrator. Above all, thou shalt not be a bystander. Holocaust Museum, Washington, DC

The green of spring trees and plans, the chartreuse of nature is my favorite color followed closely by the orange-red of fall. Nobody does it better than God in nature. Nobody.

Goal: Debt-free in 5 years. Goal: Look for something else to do with my life in 5 years besides feed the corporate machine.

Storms of spring this year bring a rollercoaster of emotion. Betrayal. Bitterness. Joy. Love. Heartbreak. Depression. Happiness. Purpose. Shame. Wait a minute, it will change again. Funny thing about riding a rollercoaster is that if I stick my arms up in the air and scream, no one will really know if it is fear, pain or joy. I am not looking forward to Wednesday night.

I want to design a shirt from a saying I saw in Chicago. It said, “Social Justice isn’t Just for Rock Stars.”

UMCOR, UNICEF, Darfur….a dollar. All for world aid stand up and holler!

I bought a hand bag today that is so big that I could cut two holes in it and stick it on my head all the way and wear it like a mask, but it’s GREEN. The only thing that frightens me a little is that I can truly stick ¾ of my arm in it digging around. I wonder if clerks think I’m going to pull a rabbit out of it?

I owe both my sponsor children Stella in Tanzania and Betty in Uganda letters and pictures. I have to get that done by Saturday. Jeez, I used to be much better at writing letters before the internet and email.

Wayne finally went with Kevin to a pawn shop and picked up the most beautiful abalone shell inlaid blue guitar. I am jealous. I want to learn to play it too!

We must not allow ourselves to become like the system we oppose. Bishop Desmond Tutu

bovine reflections in boogie wonderland

Friday afternoon I commuted home on the back roads. It has been a solid 2 months since I’ve taken this route. I’d forgotten its bucolic feel, the winding roads and open pastures and fields. I was lucky this time and didn’t hit the railroad crossing “in use”. I could see the last rail car pass in the distance as I approached and the string of cars clear before i reached the crossing. Good timing, Hartman, except I hit the highway light on ‘orange,’ so stopped for the full 3-4 minute cycle.

Thursday night our area had violent storms with intense winds, strong flooding rains and pea-sized hail. Perhaps this was the reason the air seemed so clean and clear, even with a strong wind. Stopped at a highway light, I saw the herd of Holstein cattle grazing in a field. The starkness of black and white cattle against the new greens of the spring landscape was striking, startling in fact. I took notice of the herd.

Often I can see cattle at a distance in a field along a highway or farm road. Rarely am I going slow enough or are the cattle close enough for me to take time to look at them. This time, I had the full span of a highway light to watch them.

Cows are immense, as big as my car. Okay, yes I do have a Aveo, and perhaps, pound for pound the car and cow are equal, but still, that cow looked way bigger than I remembered. Seeing them at a distance most of the time, I was amazed at their size. I’d also forgotten the sway of a cow’s head to and from as they walk. Back and fourth. . . back and forth. . .back and forth. . . .a cow crossed the field in rhythmic, choreographed steps.

A gust of wind whipped by, rocking the car in a disco-bump jiggle. Fur on the dancing Holstein ruffled, then went flat again. Other cattle grazed, ripping tender new-green grasses from the earth, grinding them with their jowls only to end up in one stomach or another. They left dark, wet footprints in their wake in the soggy ground. The entire herd, moving slowly as a large amoeba, across the landscape.

The light turned and I was off, making my way home.

I think that much of popular culture, our society in general, teaches us to be outline people. Outline meaning, just ‘give me the high level”, “executive summary’, “overview” or ” the 30 second news byte on yahoo or CNN” By keeping out of the weeds, by not ‘going down that rabbit hole” we miss much of the details in life, an astonish hive of activity everywhere.

Details at a stop light by a pasture on a back road.

Details in nature as it unfolds blows by on a windy day, rocking cars from tire to tire in a strange boogie dances.

Glimpses of the extraordinary in the everyday are the memories we keep, not the those big pictures and snippets of sound on the TV.

Take the long way home tomorrow. Take a blacktop or gravel road. Roll down your windows and listen to the dance of spring unfolding.

You will go out in joy and be led forth in peace; the mountains and hills will burst into song before you, and all the trees of the field will clap their hands. Isaiah 55:12