Monday, May 30, 2005
The Gift Of Change
I am reading or trying to read Marianne Williamson’s book, “The Gift of Change” and having gotten to page 19 where I have stopped for the umpteenth time to contemplate what she is saying. I have read some of her earlier work and heard her speak at the Church of Today here in Detroit but one thing continually plagues me as I attempt to swallow or get my mind wrapped around what she is saying and that is I don’t think God meant it to be this difficult. She uses philosophical language, big words and by the time I have waded through it even though I do think what she is conveying rings true it just seems like she could say it plainer? Like Jesus said, “If you want to save your life you must be willing to lose it” or “Who ever wishes to be first must be last”, “There is no fear in love – real love cast out fear” – maybe she could expound on these truths and how she sees one could carry them out in their every day life and at least then I would not get a headache reading her rendition of these realities but only be faced with the personal choice of living or not living this way. But then there may be no need for a book- right? I do think she has some concrete ways of explaining these basic life skills so I will do my best to read the rest but it is just so wordy and convoluted in my opinion. We will see how far I get.
Thursday, May 26, 2005
Will He Forgive Us?
Continuing with my thoughts about the Sermon Seminar - I didn’t want to forget to mention the sermon point that Dr. Fred Craddock made during his presentation on Monday evening – it was for me an especially poignant moment as he voiced his rendition of the disciples sleeping whilst Jesus lay on the ground pleading in prayer with every ounce of his heart, “throwing himself to the ground” as Craddock read in Mark's account.
Dr. Fred Craddock in his seemingly intentionally slow, soft, and southern tones ventured as to what the disciples might ask him once they woke up and what would he tell them – would he, the reader, the audience privy to the garden scene tell the slumbering disciples what really happened or would we divert the reality and make the blow softer, less harsh? But more than wanting to know the details of the moment of Jesus’ most needy time the disciples, Craddock believed would want to know whether or not Jesus could forgive them – forgive them for not being there in his desperate time of anxiousness and concern? Jesus their master and Lord asked them to watch and pray – he needed them to give him emotional, mental, and spiritual strength and they did not, in deed Craddock believes they could not because seeing Jesus this way seemed in their minds to take away the look and confidence of the King they believed he owned and truly was.
Will he forgive us? This was profound for me because this fear and question daily comes into my head and heart - “Will God forgive me for forgetting him and for not being aware of his precious people and taking time to meet the needs of those around? Will he forgive me for my daily wastefulness? Will he forgive me for not getting it – like the disciples didn’t get the parables or his purposes in sending Jesus to die and be raised again? Will he forgive me for thinking I know when I understand absolutely nothing? Can I be forgiven for falling asleep at the pinnacle of the story?
And the answer I know but wait to hear is “yes” and how do I know it is “yes”? . . . because as Dr. Craddock infers in this rather dramatic Mark-like presentation - just as the disciples might have been thinking this we, the audience, read and are present for the rest of Mark’s telling of his story of Jesus. We are there when a young man in glowing white clothes tells the women (followers of Jesus) who come to the tomb looking for Jesus to “Go and tell” the disciples and Peter (the one who betrayed him) to come meet him in Galilee. As we gather information from all the links in the story we can be assured that Jesus still, in my estimation, believes in these ones (chosen yet fallible) and believes they along with the help of the Spirit will carry out the work he left to them and left at this point to us and more poignantly – left me to carry out.
Though the women fled full of fear as they came back to all that had happened and thoughtfully pursued the actions and words of Jesus they had experienced - it is this reader's belief that they, too, heard "yes, I forgive and love you - now come follow me".
I am forgiven that I might forgive others. I am rescued that I might rescue others just as Jesus thoroughly rescues and forgives me as I journey towards Galilee.
Dr. Fred Craddock in his seemingly intentionally slow, soft, and southern tones ventured as to what the disciples might ask him once they woke up and what would he tell them – would he, the reader, the audience privy to the garden scene tell the slumbering disciples what really happened or would we divert the reality and make the blow softer, less harsh? But more than wanting to know the details of the moment of Jesus’ most needy time the disciples, Craddock believed would want to know whether or not Jesus could forgive them – forgive them for not being there in his desperate time of anxiousness and concern? Jesus their master and Lord asked them to watch and pray – he needed them to give him emotional, mental, and spiritual strength and they did not, in deed Craddock believes they could not because seeing Jesus this way seemed in their minds to take away the look and confidence of the King they believed he owned and truly was.
Will he forgive us? This was profound for me because this fear and question daily comes into my head and heart - “Will God forgive me for forgetting him and for not being aware of his precious people and taking time to meet the needs of those around? Will he forgive me for my daily wastefulness? Will he forgive me for not getting it – like the disciples didn’t get the parables or his purposes in sending Jesus to die and be raised again? Will he forgive me for thinking I know when I understand absolutely nothing? Can I be forgiven for falling asleep at the pinnacle of the story?
And the answer I know but wait to hear is “yes” and how do I know it is “yes”? . . . because as Dr. Craddock infers in this rather dramatic Mark-like presentation - just as the disciples might have been thinking this we, the audience, read and are present for the rest of Mark’s telling of his story of Jesus. We are there when a young man in glowing white clothes tells the women (followers of Jesus) who come to the tomb looking for Jesus to “Go and tell” the disciples and Peter (the one who betrayed him) to come meet him in Galilee. As we gather information from all the links in the story we can be assured that Jesus still, in my estimation, believes in these ones (chosen yet fallible) and believes they along with the help of the Spirit will carry out the work he left to them and left at this point to us and more poignantly – left me to carry out.
Though the women fled full of fear as they came back to all that had happened and thoughtfully pursued the actions and words of Jesus they had experienced - it is this reader's belief that they, too, heard "yes, I forgive and love you - now come follow me".
I am forgiven that I might forgive others. I am rescued that I might rescue others just as Jesus thoroughly rescues and forgives me as I journey towards Galilee.
Tuesday, May 24, 2005
Included
Today I attended a seminar which is primarily held for preachers, teachers of God’s Word, and theologians. In any scenario I don’t truly rate as any of these but in some dimension of myself which I am hoping to eventually unveil what I think may be one of the first two. I am still very much in a stage of doubt and trepidation so I will tread softly and see what God opens or closes.
The seminar started at 1:00 p.m. Monday and featured Fred Craddock, whom I must admit, I not being a biblical scholar had never heard of him, but now I cannot imagine not having the benefit of the insight he demonstrated during his sermon on the book of Mark. Even now thinking about his way with explaining the text brings tears to my eyes which seem silly I know but he said some things that made me feel included. I often fall into the trap of fear and allow myself to feel small and not included but he spoke about how in Mark’s telling of the gospel that we, the reader, were privy to all the conversations and stories even more so than the disciples or those characters actually on the scene. He talked about how Mark told the story of the garden of Gethsemane in a way that was not pretty but somewhat abrupt and sort of a jagged black & white photo. The starkness of his rendition grabbed my attention as did his quiet southern tinged voiced and manner.
Before Dr. Craddock even put forth any of these thoughts, he read the text from Mark and one phrase stuck out to me is one I never remember reading before and that was that Jesus threw him self down to pray in the garden. “Threw himself down”, that seems so despairing and dramatic and as Craddock expounded that is exactly what he brought out –that Jesus was struggling, that this was not a portrait of a Jesus quietly kneeling to pray but one of writhing with anguish AND how difficult it must have been for the disciples to see him this way. Craddock paused effectively and stated “no wonder they slept – they couldn’t deal with the Jesus they were seeing”.
As Fred Craddock worked his way through his thoughts on the subject saying The Jesus the disciples were used to seeing and the one they probably hoped to view was one who had accomplished miracles, one who was turning tables over in the temple but not one desperate, hurting emotionally, and now pleading for his life in the garden. But the disciples invited to witness this missed this human outcry because they were unable to handle this reality as so often we sleep when things become overwhelming. It was a view I had not thought about before and Craddock’s way of sharing (intentionally gaited and quiet) and his insistence of Mark’s writing style as including us the reader made me certainly know I was suppose to be present not only here at this conference but present as part of the audience to Mark’s telling of the gospel. It was an “aha” moment.
I want to write more but I want to be quiet and ruminate on some of this knowing even now I will not grasp the entirety of it for sometime. My senses are hypersensitive and I am full of wonder. I want to enjoy the view currently encapsulating my heart and mind at this moment.
The seminar started at 1:00 p.m. Monday and featured Fred Craddock, whom I must admit, I not being a biblical scholar had never heard of him, but now I cannot imagine not having the benefit of the insight he demonstrated during his sermon on the book of Mark. Even now thinking about his way with explaining the text brings tears to my eyes which seem silly I know but he said some things that made me feel included. I often fall into the trap of fear and allow myself to feel small and not included but he spoke about how in Mark’s telling of the gospel that we, the reader, were privy to all the conversations and stories even more so than the disciples or those characters actually on the scene. He talked about how Mark told the story of the garden of Gethsemane in a way that was not pretty but somewhat abrupt and sort of a jagged black & white photo. The starkness of his rendition grabbed my attention as did his quiet southern tinged voiced and manner.
Before Dr. Craddock even put forth any of these thoughts, he read the text from Mark and one phrase stuck out to me is one I never remember reading before and that was that Jesus threw him self down to pray in the garden. “Threw himself down”, that seems so despairing and dramatic and as Craddock expounded that is exactly what he brought out –that Jesus was struggling, that this was not a portrait of a Jesus quietly kneeling to pray but one of writhing with anguish AND how difficult it must have been for the disciples to see him this way. Craddock paused effectively and stated “no wonder they slept – they couldn’t deal with the Jesus they were seeing”.
As Fred Craddock worked his way through his thoughts on the subject saying The Jesus the disciples were used to seeing and the one they probably hoped to view was one who had accomplished miracles, one who was turning tables over in the temple but not one desperate, hurting emotionally, and now pleading for his life in the garden. But the disciples invited to witness this missed this human outcry because they were unable to handle this reality as so often we sleep when things become overwhelming. It was a view I had not thought about before and Craddock’s way of sharing (intentionally gaited and quiet) and his insistence of Mark’s writing style as including us the reader made me certainly know I was suppose to be present not only here at this conference but present as part of the audience to Mark’s telling of the gospel. It was an “aha” moment.
I want to write more but I want to be quiet and ruminate on some of this knowing even now I will not grasp the entirety of it for sometime. My senses are hypersensitive and I am full of wonder. I want to enjoy the view currently encapsulating my heart and mind at this moment.
Sunday, May 08, 2005
I am Jealous!
On Friday as I was driving home and making stops along the way attempting to complete all my tasks for the day like send my Mom a Mother’s Day card and gift, mail my bills, send a Thank You card to a friend, and decide what’s for dinner I felt overwhelmed and said, "UGH!", really loud in fact. I started thinking about the difference between a working male and a working female from my perspective. In my experience, being a single working woman, I want to take some time and bemoan some of the things I believe are expected from these women and well, are rarely expected from men.
Working women whether married or not are expected to look their best, do a great job at their work, keep a neat and updated household, attend functions like wedding showers, baby showers, make time for work functions so she can keep up with the good ol boys, remember friends & family birthdays, and lastly do the laundry, all the cleaning and ensure there is something delicious on the table for dinner.
On the other hand, a male usually, if he isn’t married and sometimes if he is, is expected to only do a good job at his work. We have no real expectation for him to look good, clean, cook, remember anyone’s birthday with a card or gift, send flowers to a funeral, attend social functions unless this includes cards or sports accompanied by snacks, and certainly there is some female waiting to do his laundry (like his wife or Mom). Now I know there are several men who do accomplish these daily feats but many of them are married and those feats can be more or less attributed to their wives (who are often working themselves).
If it sounds like I am bashing males – I am . . . only because I am jealous of their psyche whether generated by the environment or genetics - Will we ever really know? I am jealous of their ability to walk by the door to the fellowship hall at church whilst a baby shower is going on, hearing the “oohing and ahhing”, and feel absolutely no guilt whatsoever. I am jealous of the fact that rarely are they the ones at work who bring in snacks such as donuts or coffee cake for everyone – they’re just not overly concerned about pleasing the people around them.
I know you will shoot back at me “Don’t participate in the baby shower cycle if you don’t want to!” I wish it were that easy but it is sort of like the oceans’ undertow once you get caught in it you’re a goner. I just want to know how most males get away with not seeing the importance of sending a card, making a phone call, or helping a young couple celebrate the wonderful gift of a new life?! Is this stuff we women do for the most part really important? Is it necessary to have a clean house, ensure others around us feel validated or should we just throw the dirty clothes away once the hamper is full? It’s sounder better and better to me, if I could just loose these feelings of guilt and stop needing to continually authenticate others and myself.
I do want to say my brothers over the years have gotten better and usually call and send a card and I guess I hope that my consistency in remembering their family’s birthdays has actually made a difference or maybe their wives prod them into remembering. Whatever the reason it makes me feel special and gives me perspective that maybe men can be persuaded to see my point of view and that my dealings aren’t so useless after all?
Similarly, I do love my Dad but I only remember getting one written correspondence from him in my whole life and that was a shocker – I think I was really struggling with my life and my life’s choices at the time so that was extra meaningful to me. With regard to laundry, house cleaning, gift buying and the list I have been mentioning my Dad usually only vacuumed. That was until my Mom became rather ill last year and Pop was forced to learn these chores. And because he had grown very accustomed to having them accomplished – he did them himself. He is kind of a neat freak, anyway. I am not sure all men would have gone to the lengths he did. My Mom even wrote out instructions for him on how to use an ATM which he had never done. Is that not unbelievable?
But why are girls generally the ones concerned about these things? Can it be the way I was brought up as a girl that I feel like it is my duty to be good at everything? What I mean is that I feel that I have to accomplish to some degree all the things I mentioned earlier like keeping house, cooking, cleaning, being involved with church, showers, recognize others accomplishments and life markers, as well as, keep up with friendships and the laundry? When I skimp on any of these I feel badly. I do want to say as I stated earlier I do know a few guys who feel responsible and do respond to their world in this way and I applaud them but I think they are an exclusive group and then I wonder - should we be applauding this behavior? - I just don't know - we seem way too conscientious, if that is possible?
What makes most guys the way they are? Involved in their own world of what they like with regard to TV, food, interests maybe like racing or golf and pretty much what is important to them and them alone. I have gone so far as to read books on how to understand and communicate better with men and particularly males at work. All this to better connect on their level and in their style and I do get that most men mean what they say and that if they tackle a problem and solve it rarely if ever do they second guess themselves. The only bump I have hit is that I can try all I want but the trouble is: try as I do males for the most part have no desire to figure out my communication style or culture. They just don’t think about it. Oh how at times I long for those traits. To be able to confidently not feel guilty if I don’t attend a wedding shower or to attend a work meeting and not leave replaying every word and wondering if someone meant something other than what they said. I am now thinking of the musical “My Fair Lady” and hearing Rex Harrison sing “Why can’t a woman be more like a man?” . . . so they feel the same way in opposite fashion.
I guess the truth is there is a happy medium and as jealous as I am of most men’s ability to be totally involved in their own world with little regard towards other's issues - I do want to be validated through friends & family, to be encouraged at work and I like my home to look neat and inviting. So I guess I must accept these types of men as they are and hope they will look to accept me and all my tedious ways. I will continue to attempt to influence them with the golden rule – to treat others as we wish to be treated and it seems that will work for me as well - I need to glean what I can from their success. Why do I always have to be right?!
Working women whether married or not are expected to look their best, do a great job at their work, keep a neat and updated household, attend functions like wedding showers, baby showers, make time for work functions so she can keep up with the good ol boys, remember friends & family birthdays, and lastly do the laundry, all the cleaning and ensure there is something delicious on the table for dinner.
On the other hand, a male usually, if he isn’t married and sometimes if he is, is expected to only do a good job at his work. We have no real expectation for him to look good, clean, cook, remember anyone’s birthday with a card or gift, send flowers to a funeral, attend social functions unless this includes cards or sports accompanied by snacks, and certainly there is some female waiting to do his laundry (like his wife or Mom). Now I know there are several men who do accomplish these daily feats but many of them are married and those feats can be more or less attributed to their wives (who are often working themselves).
If it sounds like I am bashing males – I am . . . only because I am jealous of their psyche whether generated by the environment or genetics - Will we ever really know? I am jealous of their ability to walk by the door to the fellowship hall at church whilst a baby shower is going on, hearing the “oohing and ahhing”, and feel absolutely no guilt whatsoever. I am jealous of the fact that rarely are they the ones at work who bring in snacks such as donuts or coffee cake for everyone – they’re just not overly concerned about pleasing the people around them.
I know you will shoot back at me “Don’t participate in the baby shower cycle if you don’t want to!” I wish it were that easy but it is sort of like the oceans’ undertow once you get caught in it you’re a goner. I just want to know how most males get away with not seeing the importance of sending a card, making a phone call, or helping a young couple celebrate the wonderful gift of a new life?! Is this stuff we women do for the most part really important? Is it necessary to have a clean house, ensure others around us feel validated or should we just throw the dirty clothes away once the hamper is full? It’s sounder better and better to me, if I could just loose these feelings of guilt and stop needing to continually authenticate others and myself.
I do want to say my brothers over the years have gotten better and usually call and send a card and I guess I hope that my consistency in remembering their family’s birthdays has actually made a difference or maybe their wives prod them into remembering. Whatever the reason it makes me feel special and gives me perspective that maybe men can be persuaded to see my point of view and that my dealings aren’t so useless after all?
Similarly, I do love my Dad but I only remember getting one written correspondence from him in my whole life and that was a shocker – I think I was really struggling with my life and my life’s choices at the time so that was extra meaningful to me. With regard to laundry, house cleaning, gift buying and the list I have been mentioning my Dad usually only vacuumed. That was until my Mom became rather ill last year and Pop was forced to learn these chores. And because he had grown very accustomed to having them accomplished – he did them himself. He is kind of a neat freak, anyway. I am not sure all men would have gone to the lengths he did. My Mom even wrote out instructions for him on how to use an ATM which he had never done. Is that not unbelievable?
But why are girls generally the ones concerned about these things? Can it be the way I was brought up as a girl that I feel like it is my duty to be good at everything? What I mean is that I feel that I have to accomplish to some degree all the things I mentioned earlier like keeping house, cooking, cleaning, being involved with church, showers, recognize others accomplishments and life markers, as well as, keep up with friendships and the laundry? When I skimp on any of these I feel badly. I do want to say as I stated earlier I do know a few guys who feel responsible and do respond to their world in this way and I applaud them but I think they are an exclusive group and then I wonder - should we be applauding this behavior? - I just don't know - we seem way too conscientious, if that is possible?
What makes most guys the way they are? Involved in their own world of what they like with regard to TV, food, interests maybe like racing or golf and pretty much what is important to them and them alone. I have gone so far as to read books on how to understand and communicate better with men and particularly males at work. All this to better connect on their level and in their style and I do get that most men mean what they say and that if they tackle a problem and solve it rarely if ever do they second guess themselves. The only bump I have hit is that I can try all I want but the trouble is: try as I do males for the most part have no desire to figure out my communication style or culture. They just don’t think about it. Oh how at times I long for those traits. To be able to confidently not feel guilty if I don’t attend a wedding shower or to attend a work meeting and not leave replaying every word and wondering if someone meant something other than what they said. I am now thinking of the musical “My Fair Lady” and hearing Rex Harrison sing “Why can’t a woman be more like a man?” . . . so they feel the same way in opposite fashion.
I guess the truth is there is a happy medium and as jealous as I am of most men’s ability to be totally involved in their own world with little regard towards other's issues - I do want to be validated through friends & family, to be encouraged at work and I like my home to look neat and inviting. So I guess I must accept these types of men as they are and hope they will look to accept me and all my tedious ways. I will continue to attempt to influence them with the golden rule – to treat others as we wish to be treated and it seems that will work for me as well - I need to glean what I can from their success. Why do I always have to be right?!
Tuesday, May 03, 2005
Kowality!
You ever have one of those mornings where you drag yourself to the coffee pot or for me it is the espresso maker - drink two cups and still feel like you can't shake the sleepiness? That was how I felt this morning. I even fell asleep drinking my mocha espresso and watching the weather channel - no comments please.
Perhaps I was dreading the issues I would have to deal with at work today - yes, in fact I am. So go back to sleep and dream a good dream. But responsibility nags at my heart. I finally muster the strength to dress and get in my 89 honda with the door handle missing - that alone is enough to send me back to bed. But soon after cranking her up - I am on my way driving my 30 minute commute in a zombie like state.
But God has his ways and this morning it puts a smile on my stoic and tired face. Cruising along or maybe I should say put-putting along in my rusted but loved ghetto mobile I am struck by the image of a life size weiner complete with a mask, gloves, shoes (that means this weiner has arms and legs), a cape flowing in the wind and a large "K" plastered on it's chest, if a weiner can have a chest. The truck is sunny yellow in color and is marketing Kowalski Kielbasa. There is absolutely no way one could ride behind that truck consciously and not smile. And to top that their website is www.kowality.com - seriously - you can see the mascot yourself by clicking on this site and viewing it in the lower right hand corner.
Whatever troubles I was anticipating faded away and and I smiled deeply at this Super "K" Kowalski Weiner who rescued me from my rather depressing thoughts - Thank You God for your great sense of humor!
Perhaps I was dreading the issues I would have to deal with at work today - yes, in fact I am. So go back to sleep and dream a good dream. But responsibility nags at my heart. I finally muster the strength to dress and get in my 89 honda with the door handle missing - that alone is enough to send me back to bed. But soon after cranking her up - I am on my way driving my 30 minute commute in a zombie like state.
But God has his ways and this morning it puts a smile on my stoic and tired face. Cruising along or maybe I should say put-putting along in my rusted but loved ghetto mobile I am struck by the image of a life size weiner complete with a mask, gloves, shoes (that means this weiner has arms and legs), a cape flowing in the wind and a large "K" plastered on it's chest, if a weiner can have a chest. The truck is sunny yellow in color and is marketing Kowalski Kielbasa. There is absolutely no way one could ride behind that truck consciously and not smile. And to top that their website is www.kowality.com - seriously - you can see the mascot yourself by clicking on this site and viewing it in the lower right hand corner.
Whatever troubles I was anticipating faded away and and I smiled deeply at this Super "K" Kowalski Weiner who rescued me from my rather depressing thoughts - Thank You God for your great sense of humor!
Monday, May 02, 2005
A Typical Moment on a College Campus
While working on my computer this afternoon I received a phone call – as normal I usually look to see who is calling - oh, how I love Caller ID. The call is from the audio tech office on campus, maybe the director. I answer and to my surprise it is one of their student workers and one of my fav-o-rite students. I am often confused for the college fountain of information as I get asked a question regarding campus activities instead of something that actually is in my field of expertise (by calling my personal line instead of the front office), Oh, well – I am usually glad to oblige.
The student, DM asks, “Are we having Midnight Breakfast tonight?” [Midnight Breakfast is hosted by staff and faculty where we serve a huge breakfast on the first night of final exams for all of our students]. “Yes”, I reply, “Didn’t you hear the announcements we did in chapel? We had power point slides and did a couple if verbal announcements in daily chapel”. DM moans somewhat questioning this, “I don’t remember seeing them”.
In fact now that I think of it DM was running the Power Point and audio on the days we announced this event in chapel and being always willing to help someone face a challenge I decided to mention this overlooked fact. He confesses to me, “Sorry DC, I guess I didn’t listen – thanks for telling me”. He hangs and he is unfazed.
The staff in our office has been known to stand around the front counter and bemoan the fact that no matter how we publicize an event, students do not pay attention. They don’t listen in chapel during verbal announcements, they don't watch our announcement TV channel, they don't read the announcement page posted in common areas, nor do they seem to notice the colorful blaring signs posted strategically through the walkways in student halls. And well, to some extent DM has proved our point, even though I think he may have been standing right there with us complaining about students and their lack of focus.
Even more amazing is student residents have even been seen getting mail out of their campus mail boxes, noticing the college logo, and pitching it in the circular file immediately. Thus they often miss important information about financial deadlines, scholarship opportunities, and notifications requiring them to visit some office. To personally battle this - I have gone to the length of handwriting their names, using blank envelopes, and actually individually signing my signature with a real ink pen on things I want them to read. I will say for the most part it works but it is certainly a lot of effort.
Recently I did that (handwrote the student’s name and mine) in a letter about dress code issues and several students called or emailed asking why I had singled them out for this issue. At this I asked them to read the last line which stated – “this letter went to all students” to which they replied “oh!” But no matter -----they read most of it and in my mind it was worth the effort.
The student, DM asks, “Are we having Midnight Breakfast tonight?” [Midnight Breakfast is hosted by staff and faculty where we serve a huge breakfast on the first night of final exams for all of our students]. “Yes”, I reply, “Didn’t you hear the announcements we did in chapel? We had power point slides and did a couple if verbal announcements in daily chapel”. DM moans somewhat questioning this, “I don’t remember seeing them”.
In fact now that I think of it DM was running the Power Point and audio on the days we announced this event in chapel and being always willing to help someone face a challenge I decided to mention this overlooked fact. He confesses to me, “Sorry DC, I guess I didn’t listen – thanks for telling me”. He hangs and he is unfazed.
The staff in our office has been known to stand around the front counter and bemoan the fact that no matter how we publicize an event, students do not pay attention. They don’t listen in chapel during verbal announcements, they don't watch our announcement TV channel, they don't read the announcement page posted in common areas, nor do they seem to notice the colorful blaring signs posted strategically through the walkways in student halls. And well, to some extent DM has proved our point, even though I think he may have been standing right there with us complaining about students and their lack of focus.
Even more amazing is student residents have even been seen getting mail out of their campus mail boxes, noticing the college logo, and pitching it in the circular file immediately. Thus they often miss important information about financial deadlines, scholarship opportunities, and notifications requiring them to visit some office. To personally battle this - I have gone to the length of handwriting their names, using blank envelopes, and actually individually signing my signature with a real ink pen on things I want them to read. I will say for the most part it works but it is certainly a lot of effort.
Recently I did that (handwrote the student’s name and mine) in a letter about dress code issues and several students called or emailed asking why I had singled them out for this issue. At this I asked them to read the last line which stated – “this letter went to all students” to which they replied “oh!” But no matter -----they read most of it and in my mind it was worth the effort.
Sunday, May 01, 2005
Proof
I am reading The Ragamuffin Gospel by Brennan Manning. A group of wonderful ladies I have been meeting with for about 11 years (we call it Share Group) to share our journeys and pray with decided to read it about 4 months ago. We only meet once a month so it is taking some time to go through it. And it is the sort of read that after reading where you need to breathe deep, ponder, and relish. When I first started it I thought it was good, just good, but having got a bit deeper I have been inwardly struck by several of the author’s interpretations, stories, and my ability to relate with them so thoroughly. So just good has turned into really good!
Earlier today after reading a passage out loud in The Ragamuffin Gospel to my daughter, I said with a long sigh, “it is sometimes difficult to grasp that in my journey through life that I have longed so desperately to grasp truth, not just know “It” intellectually, and only had these brief glimpses of “It” or “truth” which means perhaps in my life time I will only have 50 -100 flashes of getting "It”. I somehow feel stupid because it seems like I should have these “aha" moments in a sort of continual stream or then maybe I feel robbed because I have these flashes only to be bereft of them moments later. If I had to define getting “It” this would consist of having this tremendous peace and seemingly overwhelming sense of understanding of the situation, the world, my world, and God’s relentless and grace-filled hand extended to us in that moment. After this lengthy explanation to my daughter there was a long pause and the she said in what sounded like the voice of Jesus, “be thankful you were aware of one”.
Manning states on page 113, of his book, The Ragamuffin Gospel,
“Trust at the mercy of the response it receives is bogus trust. All is uncertainty and anxiety. In trembling insecurity the disciple pleads for proofs from the lord that her affection be returned. If she does not receive them, she is frustrated and starts to suspect that her relationship with Jesus is all over or that it never existed. If she does receive consolation, she is reassured but only for a time. She presses for further proofs - each one less convincing than the one that went before. In the end the need to trust dies of pure frustration. What the disciple has not learned is that tangible reassurances, however valuable they may be, cannot create trust, sustain it, or guarantee any certainty of its presence. Jesus calls us to hand over our autonomous self in unshaken confidence. When craving for reassurance is stifled, trust happens”.
After digesting this passage, this was a major hit for me, in looking for this truth – the getting “it” is some sort of proof that I seek; some glimpse, shadow, or flash of God’s presence in my sphere and having read this over and over I do agree that I may never get “It” enough - certainly not to my satisfaction and well, it doesn’t matter. Not fully grasping God’s meaning in my moment doesn’t mean God isn’t real or that He isn’t aware of my particular issues - that is where faith and trust come into play. God’s love for me isn’t based on my situation and my situation is most of the time one of disappointment, uncertainty of my self, and feeling unworthy. Regardless God stills loves me, cheers me on, and I believes allows these glimpses of understanding to help me hang on – to see how it will be someday to be fully and continually in His presence and to always get “It”.
Earlier today after reading a passage out loud in The Ragamuffin Gospel to my daughter, I said with a long sigh, “it is sometimes difficult to grasp that in my journey through life that I have longed so desperately to grasp truth, not just know “It” intellectually, and only had these brief glimpses of “It” or “truth” which means perhaps in my life time I will only have 50 -100 flashes of getting "It”. I somehow feel stupid because it seems like I should have these “aha" moments in a sort of continual stream or then maybe I feel robbed because I have these flashes only to be bereft of them moments later. If I had to define getting “It” this would consist of having this tremendous peace and seemingly overwhelming sense of understanding of the situation, the world, my world, and God’s relentless and grace-filled hand extended to us in that moment. After this lengthy explanation to my daughter there was a long pause and the she said in what sounded like the voice of Jesus, “be thankful you were aware of one”.
Manning states on page 113, of his book, The Ragamuffin Gospel,
“Trust at the mercy of the response it receives is bogus trust. All is uncertainty and anxiety. In trembling insecurity the disciple pleads for proofs from the lord that her affection be returned. If she does not receive them, she is frustrated and starts to suspect that her relationship with Jesus is all over or that it never existed. If she does receive consolation, she is reassured but only for a time. She presses for further proofs - each one less convincing than the one that went before. In the end the need to trust dies of pure frustration. What the disciple has not learned is that tangible reassurances, however valuable they may be, cannot create trust, sustain it, or guarantee any certainty of its presence. Jesus calls us to hand over our autonomous self in unshaken confidence. When craving for reassurance is stifled, trust happens”.
After digesting this passage, this was a major hit for me, in looking for this truth – the getting “it” is some sort of proof that I seek; some glimpse, shadow, or flash of God’s presence in my sphere and having read this over and over I do agree that I may never get “It” enough - certainly not to my satisfaction and well, it doesn’t matter. Not fully grasping God’s meaning in my moment doesn’t mean God isn’t real or that He isn’t aware of my particular issues - that is where faith and trust come into play. God’s love for me isn’t based on my situation and my situation is most of the time one of disappointment, uncertainty of my self, and feeling unworthy. Regardless God stills loves me, cheers me on, and I believes allows these glimpses of understanding to help me hang on – to see how it will be someday to be fully and continually in His presence and to always get “It”.
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