Spacious Life

As we continue to see life breathed into this thing called Journey I keep writing. This is part of a bigger project, but stands alone and is worth sharing:

~~~

Our days are mundane. Predictable. Often grating. It feels like we exist only to survive into the next day.

This is LIFE? Our dreams are of...what? Houses? Cars? A more stressful job?

And what role does the church play? We're all afraid that this thing called the spiritual life will only serve to destroy us--to reign us in and make us settle for being less than who we feel we truly are. One of our biggest fears about Christianity is that it will make us...boring.

There are few accusations in pop culture today worse than being boring. Or irrelevant. Or yesterday.

But stop and ask yourself: is God--the author and creator of the universe--incapable of dreaming bigger dreams than you?

We are trying to join God's adventures and mission. We long to have our dreams cast in the shadows of God's vision.

We believe that our hopes and dreams and passions are gifts from God—a glimmer of God's identity that was breathed into us in the beginning of time. Our wildest dreams and deepest passions are only hints of the heart of God. We long to capture that, to enjoy that, to own it, and to encourage one another to step into it.

We believe in an expansive God. We believe God wants us to live boldly, to dream vividly, and to journey extensively. "The smallness you feel comes from within you. Our lives aren't small."

Class Notes

Alumni Magazines...gotta love 'em.

Every quarter I get mine and, like everyone else, I first turn to compare my life to the people who actually broadcast notes in the back.

Then, after sulking because I'm such a slacker (no kids, no wedding, no law degree, no life-changing missions work) I mentally write my own sarcastic update.

I've never submitted one. Yet.

Brian Schermerhorn (BA '96) reports that not a thing has changed in his life...same job,same house,same car, same single status (OK, he switched to a Mac--that's significant). He'd love to hear from old friends with likewise boring lives. You can email him at the same email address...no need to republish it here.

Think they'd publish it?

Me 'n Snoop

I'm sorry, but this must be shared...

http://www.asksnoop.com/

marie....I blame you.

(still laughing...)

More memories

I started writing this weeks ago, and prefaced it then with "I have no idea where this is going--I'm just diving in on a writing rampage."

As mentioned below, I've been awash in emotional thoughts lately. Peculiarly I've been remembering all kinds of long-forgotten but now vivid memories.

One of these memories is this: When I was young my maternal grandparents lived outside of Detroit. My grandfather would get tickets to Detroit Tigers baseball games and take me. Did this happen once? Many times? I do not know. It must have been at least several times. I remember the old stadium (how I wish I'd have gone back to Tiger Stadium before they demolished it), the green, green grass, the excitement of the game. But what I remember most was parking and walking over the interstate on a skywalk. The elevation, the cars rushing by below us--the whole thing made me feel strangely uncomfortable and excited. (I wonder if I was afraid? Or obviously enthralled? I have no idea what I demonstrated outwardly way back then...) Anyway, now as an adult simply walking over a highway isn't that big of a deal. For years I worked in downtown Cincinnati--parking at Riverfront Stadium and walking across I75 to my office building. The cars rush by below and I never paid them mind.

I want to go back. But so much is gone. Tiger Stadium is no more. My Grandfather is no longer with me (but his Tiger's cap sits on my kitchen counter).

Another memory that has come to mind:

The first day of class, fall semester, my Sophomore year. I was sitting in the dormer of my room watching foot traffic on the sidewalk below. I remember talking to a friend four stories below--even now I can see her pleated skirt, the shadow of sunlight filtering through huge oak trees. I still love late summer and the natural excitement that comes from the beginning of the school-year.

Also I've been drawn to places: houses I used to live in or visit, places I've visited in my past. I've driven around several old stomping grounds trying to recapture....to recapture what? I do not know.

I hope heaven is like this. I hope we're able to look in on our own pasts, on the stories of our friends and loved ones. I'd love to relive my life on Sens-O-Tape. I'd love to see this world from my parents' perspectives, from my friends eyes, even from the views of those who have hurt me most. I'd like to think in heaven we'll be able to see the beauty of this world--even in the midst of the obvious brokenness. I hope we'll be able to see the poetry that underlies all of our love and struggle and faith.

I hope we can see Tiger Stadium again.

The Battle for Memory

This is it, Joel. It's gonna be gone soon.

I know.

What do we do?

Enjoy it.

(from Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, a film I highly recommend.)

~~~

Cold walks through college campuses.

Warm kisses under an Australian sky.

Holding hands with a girl I hardly know.

And those conversations--you know the ones; when you're talking and shivering and can feel your next words as if you're jumping over a cliff. And then you jump, knowing that you really have no choice.

Not one of these memories of mine has accounted for anything that can be shown today. Not one. Some of my favorite recollections, some of my favorite emotions and feelings and fears (we all love our fears, in strange ways, don't we?)--what are they worth?

Not a single memory includes a person with whom I've been in any kind of recent contact. Nothing of these (and so many other) formative moments survived. Nothing save the images and feelings etched in my mind.

I wouldn't trade them...the awkward beginnings, the exciting leaps of faith, the painful separations...wouldn't trade a one. My successes and failures, my ups and downs, my moments of courage and points of weakness--these moments are me. They define me. Without them I am nothing. Empty. Tabula Raza.

Salinger, in the voice of Franny, says "I'm sick of not having the courage to be an absolute nobody."

Very few of our lives will result in epic love stories, in stories of global revolution or life-changing achievement. But we each have our own tapestry, woven by our own choices and values and character.

I am what I am.

Am I happy with that?

...shrug...

I guess.

I do love holding and cherishing my memories. There are so many scenes I feel like I could step right back into. My first-grade classroom. My grandmother's house with the sparkly ceilings. My church's bus on a long, rambling youth trip. A game of dominoes with my Grandfather. Sometimes I ache to step right back into those moments--to enjoy those people just a little bit more, to compare my notes with reality and see how I varnished the truth.

When I think of these things I wonder what memories my dad wishes he could step back into. I wonder what my Grandmother thinks of in moments like these?

I wonder what it would take for me to get the courage to ask? I bet those conversations would become a memory I'd likewise cherish down the road.

My "will" is worth something sometimes, isn't it?

A friend of mine is struggling with notions of her will versus God's will. In fact, she's posted about it on her blog here >>.

I started to leave a comment off the cuff, but it grew long (surprise, surprise). These thoughts still aren't carefully considered--just quickly typed up in a single breath at the end of lunch.

~~~

I don't know if I can describe this concisely, but I'm willing to try.

"I wish I could somehow render myself completely without bias."

Why in the world would you want to do that? It sounds like you want to render yourself without personality, opinion, or passion--the very essence of who God created you to be.

I know that sounds cheekier than I mean it.

The longer I go the less convinced I am that God has a specific, discrete "will" for each and every decision made by each and every person. And yet that is what "Christianese" would have us believe--that every branch in the road has an "approved by God" option and a "well, screw that, I'm doing it my way" option.

And yet, we gladly extol how we are created in God's glorious image. We chase after the heart and spirit of God. We model ourselves after Christ. And we faithfully believe that the Holy Spirit can transform us from the inside out.

If all this is true then isn't it possible that our very personalities, proclivities and desire are part of God's will?

I would suggest that clearly when God wants something to happen--it happens. His sovereign will is absolute (see: Moses and the Red Sea, Joseph's life story or Paul and the early Christians for just a few examples). Additionally, God's moral law is also clear (mostly--I'll throw a caveat in there to cover those few grey areas subject to interpretation and culture and the like). But clearly we are called to live our lives subject to God's moral will. This is God's standard, but our responsibility.

That, then, leads us down to the daily nitty-gritty. Do I live in the US or Sudan? (We could all up and move if we really wanted, right?) Do I work for the Salvation Army or for Microsoft? (I hear Microsoft's stock is performing much better than most non-profits). What house do I live in? What car do I buy (do I even buy a car)? What sweater do I wear today?

Certainly some of those options could be immoral. But most of those choices are subject to our own personality, our own history, our own personal values.

I liked the Midwest better than California (but certainly not because of the weather or the scenery). So I now live in Ohio. But I think either would have been blessed by God and either would have been well within his "will."

The trick, I think, is to identify those places of rebellion within ourselves and diligently try to not make decisions subject to those aspects of our personality. But after that??? Roll the dice. Take some risks. Do what you want. The beauty of God's redemptive grace is that He manages to use us in spite of the apparent missed turns of our lives. God used a murderer to lead the Israelites, a son sold into slavery to protect those very same siblings and a persecutor to expand the very church he was trying to destroy.

So yes, subject yourself to God's moral law. Strive to identify and mitigate those shadows of rebellion in your soul. And then feel free to just blindly leap into whatever it is that your heart desires. Everything in my life (and the lives of so many others) indicates that God will gladly meet you there.

Love, true love

"The most romantic thing we can ever do is to prove worthy of love."

So says philosopher (and owner of way-cool accent) Alain de Botton.

You can listen to his essay A Flaw in Valentine's Day: Our Narrow View of Love here >> (courtesy of NPR and All Things Considered).

Middletown, OH tax letter

As promised, here are the scans of the Middletown tax instructions: original and revised, front and back (respectively). They're all big--(about 1mg each)...sorry.

Original Page 1
Original Page 2
Revised Page 1
Revised Page 2

Tax humor

True story: Ohio Woman Suspended for Tax Form Humor

Funny thing is--I never read my Middletown instructions. I got the originals, received the revision, and didn't pay attention to either.

I'll try to scan them at work on Monday and post the images. The first version is classis stuff. If they publised instructions like these I'd read them.