Happy Easter

Jesus is risen; Kristy is drinking coffee!

Can we please canonize this?

“What is real?” asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by side near the nursery fender, before Nana came to tidy the room. “Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?”

“Real isn’t how you are made,” said the Skin Horse. “It’s a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become REAL.

“Does it hurt?” asked the Rabbit.

“Sometimes,” said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. “When you are real you don’t mind being hurt.”

“Does it happen all at once, like being wound up,” he asked, “or bit by bit?”

“It doesn’t happen all at once,” said the Skin Horse. “You become. It takes a long time. That’s why it doesn’t happen often to people who will break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in your joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.”

A Satisfying Day

-Church this morning.
-Filling out oodles of hospital surveys on a sunny deck with my parents.
-Driving with the windows down and music blaring; Dima's head hanging out the window, sniffing voraciously.
-A run with the dog in mid-70s weather.
-Grocery shopping and an attempt at a new recipe.
-Another walk with the dog--this time beside open water with wind carrying the promise of rain on it.
-A nap after a little reading.
-Realizing that, for the most part, I still remember Greek while finalizing what I'm going to speak on in church (April 15th!). Books are strewn about my living room . . .a good chaos.

Maybe I'm getting somewhere?

Procrastination . . .it gets the better of me when it comes to anything academic. Normally I'm the mad-planner when it comes to physical life stuff: goals, goals, goals--but when it comes to getting a paper together, and, say, putting a sermon together . . .well . . .those CSI shows are pretty engrossing.

However.

Nansi: "Kristy, let's get together Thursday to talk about the liturgy and service layout. We'll talk about your sermon, too." Some stalling on my end as I flip open my calendar, and then slowly, "Uhh, sure . . .but it's still looking a little rough." Try I've-thrown-out-what-I-started-a-month-ago-and-have-only-a-vague-idea . . .but yeah, Thursday, as in TOMORROW. No problem.

So I've returned to one of my favorite teachers, Wendell Berry, and have decided on his poem, Envoy, for the bulletin cover. Initially I wanted this poem to grace the front of my wedding bulletins or invitations, but given the likelihood of my ever getting married, I think it will do just fine on a Sunday morning.

I've also just finished reading The History of Love by Nicole Krauss, which truly deserves a post of its own. It is absolutely brilliant--so well done and creative--and it has made its entry into my top 5 (which is no small feat). I have nothing but genuine love and admiration for this book--truly! Stunning work.

Anyway, I'm going to use a section from The History of Love and speak on silence.

Imagine that.

Especially when the Greek scripture reading is about Pentecost and the outpouring of the Holy Spirit. Even the Psalms passage urges one to verbally declare God's glory. And yet, I'll throw a wrench in the works, make things harder than they need to be, and talk about reading God in the silences life offers us. (Maybe it's the Zen Buddhist in me. Or that whole apophatic theology bit.) Now to put it to hard copy and some semblance of order . . . .

Whatever happens,
those who have learned
to love one another
have made their way
to the lasting world
and will not leave,
whatever happens.

-W. Berry, "Sabbaths 1998"

The Meatrix

Check this out.

Taxes

Again, I owe the federal government a sizeable amount of money . . .money that will probably go toward paying for another bomb.

Thankfully my independent contracting days are over. It's a shame I can't write the same for the war in Iraq.

Quirky, or not quirky?

Your Quirk Factor: 65%

You're so quirky, it's hard for you to tell the difference between quirky and normal. No doubt about it, there's little about you that's "normal" or "average."

How Quirky Are You?


Not so sure if this is good or bad . . . .

Lent

The past few weeks have been interesting . . .my father in and out of hospitals, a new OR scheduling system at work that has been a nightmare to transition into, working the "crack shift" which involves getting up at 3 am for 2 consecutive weeks, my bathroom getting ripped apart, dogsitting Chachi (who enjoys fighting with Dima), making some major career/possibly-moving-back-to-MN decisions, trying to get a sermon together for next month (any ideas?), Lenten soup discussions on Thursdays, and some nasty driving weather to boot!

And what tops it off, you might ask? I gave up coffee for Lent. I thought it might be good to sacrifice something I genuinely like, instead of something that would ultimately be self-serving (I admit it; I contemplated giving up chocolate or going on a sugar fast to possibly lose some weight--all in the name of Lent, of course). So with that said, I am now more aware of coffee than I have ever been in my entire life!!

Despite its presence everywhere, I have thus far held out: in emergency department waiting rooms, at work, church, in my own kitchen . . .and I'm learning small things along the way. For instance, this morning I was in the hallway of Oconomowoc Memorial Hospital, waiting for a nurse to update me and my mother on my father's condition. The coffee pots with their creamers, stir sticks, and other essentials were staring at me as I was lovingly staring at them, and I went about rationalizing why it was perfectly fine for me to have a cup. Quickly, the internal dialogue led to a resounding "Jesus himself would urge you to drink this cup, Kristy!" (Feel free to think "psycho" here, I could very well be a sinking ship.) But then I thought of the shoes I had wanted to buy at REI, and I thought of a cross country race in college where I had actually looked around for a hole to twist my ankle in so that I could be done with the race (no hole available, thankfully), and I thought of Israel's desert years and the golden calf . . .and I again realized my need to find the quick fix in a situation instead of suffering through something that is uncomfortable, but for my good. There's much more to unpack here . . .but I know that it ultimately comes down to my inability to fully trust something, someone else, myself, even God. My skepticism rules frequently!

So who knew free coffee and a refusal to drink it would lead to such a helpful realization?

Change is A Comin'

"Remember, the most important and most loveable parts of you are invisible."--Toni Raiten D'Antonio

This is what I tell myself when I look into the mirror and see the sad and unseemly results of a desk job, a long winter's hibernation, and "Soul Food Day" at work . . . .

And somehow, I feel cooler.

Despite the fact that my toilet is currently in my bedroom, I am more than thrilled to be living where I am. And why is that, you might wonder? While Rich, the building's fix-it man was busy ripping up my bathroom floor and breaking up mortar (the floor's level needs to be raised and the linoleum replaced), he did some investigating. For some reason, my apartment is higher than any of the others on the second floor. For those of you that have visited, you know the hallway leading to my door is an actual ramp. Very bizarre.

From the little I know, the building was most likely built during the mid-1800s. In its early stages it was an actual saloon. That's right--men in cowboy hats and chaps with their horses, making a scene down beneath my kitchen. The local brothel was also conveniently located around the corner, where the Irish Pub stands now. Scandalous. This building was also used as a beer bottling company, a couple of diner-type establishments, and a not-so-glorious dry cleaning business. But GET THIS--as Rich was digging around, he noticed a very large space between my apartment's floor and the ceiling of the bakery beneath me.

His theory:


(drum roll, please)


The space was used for hiding slaves.

Now how great would that be? It now has my head spinning with the possibilities of all the lives that have come through here . . . . I think this is why I love old buildings so much. I get to be a small part of their ongoing stories, while also learning from their history. To think--I put on makeup above a place where actual slaves might have been fleeing captivity . . .how mind-blowing is that?! What else has gone on between these walls and underneath these floors?

Current Favorite Song

Patty Griffin's No Bad News--definitely worth a listen.

Snow in my backyard . . . .

The snow pile is almost as high as the trees. And yes, that is wild-man Chachi zipping by it. I believe he thinks he has returned to Northern MN.

The view from the top of the pile--I couldn't resist climbing it . . . . It is the absolute DREAM snow hill for kids. Serious snow forts and caves; not to mention all of the King of the Hill games that could be played.

To be a kid again!

Who knew?

So fun--two girls (now women!) that were part of a small group I mentored for three years in MN have blogs. Dani is in Ireland and Breanna is in Fiji and Hawaii. I have heard reports that Kristi is also in Amsterdam. Now how great is that?!

I have a picture of them hanging among my family pictures here in my apartment. I see their 8th grade faces looking back at me now, and I remember all of the laughter . . . the tears . . .the misunderstandings and AHA! moments. Little did they know that they would be off traversing the world in a few years. Needless to say, I'm extremely proud of them.

Current Favorites

Album: Iron & Wine's The Sea & the Rhythm

Book: Marilynne Robinson's Gilead

Quote (among many) from Gilead: "And I'm glad I knew it at the time, because now, in my present situation, now that I am about to leave this world, I realize there is nothing more astonishing than a human face. Boughton and I have talked about that, too. It has something to do with incarnation. You feel your obligation to a child when you have seen it and held it. Any human face is a claim on you, because you can't help but understand the singularity of it, the courage and the loneliness of it. But this is truest in the face of an infant. I consider that to be one kind of vision, as mystical as any. Boughton agrees."

Smoothie: Vanilla yogurt with frozen blueberries and a splash of milk and, at times, honey

Ordinary Time

These midwinter days that bridge
Epiphany to Lent
can seem anything but ordinary
as the steady waxing light reflects
across old December's glaze of ice,
a biting wind hisses across
the stark bones of the bracken,
and treetops signal sparse
against a sky expecting still
more snow before nightfall.
Scarlet and speckled birds
announce themselves about
the brightness of the holly,
spray from the creek creates
bright frosted chandeliers among
the tangled overhanging branches,
and dusk draws down its spangling
of stars so crystalline they lift the eye--
heart too--toward a principality
that banishes any vestige
of routine predictability.
Ordinariness exists--if at all--
within the desiccated soul,
too distracted by its fearful self
to notice.
-J. Barrie Shepherd

The Year of "What I Have is Enough"

Lately I've been challenged by a homily my pastor gave a few weeks ago. She was discussing the Jewish Sabbatical year and the notion of rest--for the land, for people--and renewal as well. It was a year designed for self-evaluation and, in a sense, relief. There was no need to work the land; one ate what it produced on its own accord and debts that were owed were forgiven. The year provided a clean slate for all . . .and an opportunity to trust God anew.

In a sense, I'm in a sabbatical year. Having graduated college in 2001 and it now being 2007, I find myself needing to lay low, reflect, and learn contentment. I think that for a long time, I thought being content was something out of my control; it happened to me. . .all circumstances would collide in perfect harmony and everything would make sense. Or contentment was within my control; something I could wear, eat or not eat, drive, weigh, or even someone I could date or marry. But in truth, I'm finding that contentment doesn't come easily. Rather, it takes work and commitment--I contribute . . .I control my actions and evaluate my perspectives. It also takes a trusting that is counter-cultural to today's society of consumerism, and this trusting puts me in a position to not "control." So in usual Jesus-fashion, the preferred approach to life is somewhat upside-down . . .very backwards looking to today's average person.

So with that said, this is my professed year of "What I Have is Enough." I'm taking up the challenge to not buy anything additional to what I already own. No upgrades on cell phones or services; no new clothes or shoes. Instead, I will celebrate the abundance I already have. And I suspect that I will find a deeper rest than that quick fix that sometimes comes with a new purchase. Maybe (?) I'll even break this American addiction to buying, and instead pay more attention to the daily provisions that already exist . . .like having the use of all 5 of my senses, shelter, great neighbors and family (not to mention great friends), the ability to read and write, and so on.

I stand and wait for light
To open the dark night.
I stand and wait for prayer
To come and find me here.
-W. Berry, Sabbaths 2000

A gem from a website a friend sent me . . . .

When Tired

A student once asked his teacher,

"Master, what is enlightenment?"

The master replied,

"When hungry, eat. When tired, sleep."

Affirmation of Ministry

Today I joined Emmanuel UCC. This is a big deal as I'm a little commitment phobic when it comes to churches that are affiliated with a denomination, and I'm a bit of a theology snob (seminary does this to some people--my apologies).

For starters:

• I like women preaching and involved in decision-making.

• I love this world and want to take care of it.
  

• People who happen to be gay are just as incredible as people who happen to be straight.

• Words are extremely important to me. I like them used carefully, deliberately.

• And yes, I'm a big fan of Jesus' teachings. I'm a bigger fan of people who live out those teachings.

And that is only a beginning!

But the affirmation posted in our bulletin (and below) sums up my core hopes, and having read it before and with the congregation, I'm excited to know that I've made a good decision. Kind of like a wedding day, in a really bizarre way . . . .

And yes, for those of you who know me--I was a weepy mess. I get it from both parents. :)

Lord, I offer my whole being to Your purposes.
I will not dishonor my soul with hatred,
but offer myself to You humbly
as a guardian of nature, as a healer of misery,
as a messenger of wonder, as an architect of peace.
Lord, use me to bring good into the world.
Through Jesus Christ, my Lord. Amen.

A+

This evening's simple pleasure: listening to a new album the whole way through.

The candles are burning, the dog is sleeping, and Patty Griffin's Children Running Through has me feeling and, yes, loving her thoughtful lyrics and folksy gospel/blues vibe.

Well done in every way, Patty. Well done.

Uncle Mike

For those of you who know me and know my family--please keep my mom's younger brother in your prayers. He has been in the hospital for the past few days, and had surgery for a bowel obstruction 3 days ago. Unfortunately the surgery revealed extensive cancer. Mike is also mentally handicapped, and he associates the hospital with the place where his mother died, so this is obviously a terrifying experience for him. It's terrifying for my mother, too, as she is here in WI while he is there in CO.

I imagine they both feel helpless and scared, so please pray that they would be comforted as these next few days progress. Thank you.