Lately I have been experiencing a kind of cynical block about "religion." And by lately I really mean for the last several months. See, I am struggling with the balance of being excited about my faith and the power of God and the cheese factor.
What is the cheese factor, you ask? I can most accurately describe my attitude about it in two words: Christian DJs.
In order to break some of my cynicism I have started listening to more Christian radio, but I can't stand the DJs. They just infuriate me sometimes with their pat answers to everything, their happy, everything-will-be-ok-with-God comments. I can't really explain why it bothers me as much as it does. I think it comes down to a lack of faith on my part, that when I hear someone talking about praying and the power it has, sometimes I scoff in disbelief. Even though all my life I've experienced the power of prayer, I still have a hard time sometimes believing it does any good. This is my cynical side.
In light of so many atrocities in our world, I frequently despair that anything can make a difference. Sometimes not even our pleas to God seem to change things. And when I'm hurting and someone tells me they're praying for me, all I can do is smile at them and say thank you, even though I want to ask why, why they think it will make a difference...
Those are my darker moments. When I let myself undo the foundations of my whole life. Ultimately I am rooted on the promises of God, that He is faithful, that He never leaves us alone and vulnerable. All I have to stand on most days are those promises, and the lingering dream of who I could be if I truly, truly, firmly planted my feet in them, not to be moved.
The good news is that I have heard a few songs on the Christian radio station that I love. One is by Brooke Fraser (from Hillsong United). I love these lyrics. They are like water on my dry soul:
Walking, stumbling on these shadowfeet
toward home, a land that i've never seen
I am changing, less and less asleep
made of different stuff than when i began
and i have sensed it all along
fast approaching is the day
when the world has fallen out from under me
i'll be found in You, still standing
when the sky rolls up and mountains fall on their knees
when time and space are through
i'll be found in You
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Monday, July 21, 2008
summer reading list
I finally finished the first year of grad school! What a relief. I had to go out for ice cream Thursday night after finishing my final (three hand-written essay questions...yuck. Major hand cramping!). So now I will be taking a break until the winter quarter in January, what with the wedding and moving and all.
But just a disclaimer, if you've been noticing my reading list to the left, unless you want to feel really depressed, don't bother with any of the following books:
McTeague
In Our Time
Paris Trout
No Country for Old Men
Seize the Day
Winesburg, Ohio
Ballad of the Sad Cafe
I must say that part of the huge relief of finishing this most recent class was not having to read any more depressing, dark, hopeless books--or at least not having to finish them should I accidentally start one. Everyone in my class was joking about wanting to go see a happy movie after finishing the class...but no, we went to see The Dark Knight last weekend. Great movie, terribly dark. I think my professor I just had would love it.
So now I am moving on to happier things, like wedding planning and moving and finding another job, etc. This is a bittersweet time, as I LOVE summer, but am dying for the next 2 months to just disappear...I am ready to have all this wedding stuff taken care of and just be married.
But just a disclaimer, if you've been noticing my reading list to the left, unless you want to feel really depressed, don't bother with any of the following books:
McTeague
In Our Time
Paris Trout
No Country for Old Men
Seize the Day
Winesburg, Ohio
Ballad of the Sad Cafe
I must say that part of the huge relief of finishing this most recent class was not having to read any more depressing, dark, hopeless books--or at least not having to finish them should I accidentally start one. Everyone in my class was joking about wanting to go see a happy movie after finishing the class...but no, we went to see The Dark Knight last weekend. Great movie, terribly dark. I think my professor I just had would love it.
So now I am moving on to happier things, like wedding planning and moving and finding another job, etc. This is a bittersweet time, as I LOVE summer, but am dying for the next 2 months to just disappear...I am ready to have all this wedding stuff taken care of and just be married.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
watch your language
Recently I have become excessively aware of the way I speak. Finally, being an English major is starting to sink in.
What really triggered this new awareness was an incident last week. My boss and I had a "meeting" (lunch) with several women from the South Barrington community (= rich), and one of them was older, probably around 65 or so. We ended up talking to her for about 4 hours (I also have a theory that older women are lonely and take every opportunity they can to talk to anyone they can...another post, perhaps), and in the span of that 4 hours, she never once used the word "like" except in its appropriate sense--of comparison.
The word like is meant to be used in simile form (comparing two things using like or as). Bet you haven't thought about similes in a while. Consider this a brief summer school session.
Like has become the most overused word in the English language. And all of a sudden my awareness has been heightened, and it's driving me crazy. I accidentally yelled at Lucas last weekend for using it too much. I try to catch myself in conversation--not only is it a matter of sounding more intelligent, it is a matter of the state of the English language.
We have an excessive number of words constituting our verbal capacities, and we only use a tiny fraction of those words. I am afraid that we are becoming less eloquent as the years go by and technology makes it easier for us to slum our vocabulary. I get upset when I think about the fact that we are raising an entire generation on text message and IM lingo. These methods of communication are based on brevity, lack of punctuation is the norm, and spelling? Forget about it. If you can convey a word with fewer letters than it actually has, congratulations.
I get frustrated because I think of the papers I'm going to have to grade in future years (if I ever finish my degree).
I get frustrated because Americans already have a reputation as being one of the least expressive or eloquent nations of the world--a nation with mandatory education policies.
I get frustrated because I do it too.
So remember, "like" is a word to be used in comparison. Not as a stall tactic. Not as a filler when you don't know what to say. Not because everyone else is doing it.
And please, for the sake of your brain, watch your language.
What really triggered this new awareness was an incident last week. My boss and I had a "meeting" (lunch) with several women from the South Barrington community (= rich), and one of them was older, probably around 65 or so. We ended up talking to her for about 4 hours (I also have a theory that older women are lonely and take every opportunity they can to talk to anyone they can...another post, perhaps), and in the span of that 4 hours, she never once used the word "like" except in its appropriate sense--of comparison.
The word like is meant to be used in simile form (comparing two things using like or as). Bet you haven't thought about similes in a while. Consider this a brief summer school session.
Like has become the most overused word in the English language. And all of a sudden my awareness has been heightened, and it's driving me crazy. I accidentally yelled at Lucas last weekend for using it too much. I try to catch myself in conversation--not only is it a matter of sounding more intelligent, it is a matter of the state of the English language.
We have an excessive number of words constituting our verbal capacities, and we only use a tiny fraction of those words. I am afraid that we are becoming less eloquent as the years go by and technology makes it easier for us to slum our vocabulary. I get upset when I think about the fact that we are raising an entire generation on text message and IM lingo. These methods of communication are based on brevity, lack of punctuation is the norm, and spelling? Forget about it. If you can convey a word with fewer letters than it actually has, congratulations.
I get frustrated because I think of the papers I'm going to have to grade in future years (if I ever finish my degree).
I get frustrated because Americans already have a reputation as being one of the least expressive or eloquent nations of the world--a nation with mandatory education policies.
I get frustrated because I do it too.
So remember, "like" is a word to be used in comparison. Not as a stall tactic. Not as a filler when you don't know what to say. Not because everyone else is doing it.
And please, for the sake of your brain, watch your language.
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
the afterglow
Since Lucas has been living in Sandwich for the last few months, once or twice a week I end up driving out there so that we can see each other, which is a long haul but very worthwhile. One of the best parts about driving to Sandwich, though, is that it feels like driving out in the middle of nowhere--country roads hemmed in by cornfields, scattered houses, the occasional stop sign. All these things remind me of being back in central Illinois, where I grew up. My parents' house edges right up against a field, alternating between corn and soybeans, and driving out straight west from there house takes you deep into the heart of the stereotypical Midwest.
I love it.
I love driving out there at dusk, stopping the car, and looking at the glowing world. I think dusk may just be my favorite time of day, as the sun drifts below the horizon, leaving behind a spectacle of colors, bordering at times on brilliant. In the afterglow of the sunset, the tiny lights of evening poke their heads, and out in the country, away from the city lights that glare orange against the sky, you can see them all, tiny glowing points, sparkles, glitter against the night. One of my favorite high school activities was driving out to the middle of the fields and then lying on the hood of the car to take in the vast blackness scattered with stars. Where there are no city lights, the stars seem to multiply, and constellations pop out of nowhere. My dad and I spent one summer trying to memorize as many as we could, and I still have a few favorites that I can point out if it's dark enough to see them.
The other glow that creeps up in the summer over the fields is the lightning bugs. They may be the only tolerable kind of bug, mainly because they don't bite but also because they seem to float in a kind of magical glow over the corn fields, giving off an aura of pixie dust and magic. There is a sweet smell in the air--the scent of crops and humidity and sweat and earth, tinged with the coolness of evening--that I love to breathe deep. I can't get enough of it in the all-too-short summer months.
It's worth reveling in the summer afterglow. It never stays long enough to satisfy me, but maybe that's what makes it so delightful.
I love it.
I love driving out there at dusk, stopping the car, and looking at the glowing world. I think dusk may just be my favorite time of day, as the sun drifts below the horizon, leaving behind a spectacle of colors, bordering at times on brilliant. In the afterglow of the sunset, the tiny lights of evening poke their heads, and out in the country, away from the city lights that glare orange against the sky, you can see them all, tiny glowing points, sparkles, glitter against the night. One of my favorite high school activities was driving out to the middle of the fields and then lying on the hood of the car to take in the vast blackness scattered with stars. Where there are no city lights, the stars seem to multiply, and constellations pop out of nowhere. My dad and I spent one summer trying to memorize as many as we could, and I still have a few favorites that I can point out if it's dark enough to see them.
The other glow that creeps up in the summer over the fields is the lightning bugs. They may be the only tolerable kind of bug, mainly because they don't bite but also because they seem to float in a kind of magical glow over the corn fields, giving off an aura of pixie dust and magic. There is a sweet smell in the air--the scent of crops and humidity and sweat and earth, tinged with the coolness of evening--that I love to breathe deep. I can't get enough of it in the all-too-short summer months.
It's worth reveling in the summer afterglow. It never stays long enough to satisfy me, but maybe that's what makes it so delightful.
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
identity theft
Sometimes I have moments (days, weeks...) when I look at myself in the mirror and wonder who I really am. Generally I have a pretty good idea, but just occasionally it comes into question. So often I identify myself by the things I do...and lately that has all changed. Less often I identify myself by the things I know are true--even though I recognize those truths, they feel like the easiest things to be stolen away from me, leaving me with those moments of question.
In leaving my job at CCC, I felt like a huge part of my identity just disappeared. I have completely changed what I do for a living, what I do in my spare time, what occupies my mind, who I interact with on a daily basis. It's enormously dissatisfying to know that a part of you is missing. Currently on my reading list is Nancy Beach's book called Gifted to Lead--about being a woman leader in a world run by men. She reminds us that God didn't make a mistake when He made women leaders. That's reassuring. But only when I think of what could happen in my future life. Not in the context of my present life.
My identity constantly shifts--the things that identified me in high school and even college have morphed and adapted to new situations, my personality reflects some of these changes. There are parts of me that I like much better now than I did in high school. But there are parts of my high school and college identity that have been lost in the shuffle of my becoming someone different, someone more adult, someone more in control, someone needing order and balance in her life.
I don't think I can always control my identity. Sometimes it just happens to be who I am in the moments when I'm not conscious of my actions, when I have no one to impress and nothing to lose. I want more of those moments, but the reality is that I just care too much how I am perceived. I think this is a chronic condition...it's not going to go away no matter how successful or confident I become--I will still be somewhere inside the little girl I used to be...the little girl who envisioned herself doing great things but stayed within the limits of what she thought was actually achievable.
If I put my identity in the hands of the things I do or the hands of people around me, I will never keep it for very long. Those things are stolen from me every minute of every day. I am learning the art of gracefully accepting the identity stuffed inside my balanced and controlled exterior...and sometimes I look in the mirror and for a split second and see that true identity.
In leaving my job at CCC, I felt like a huge part of my identity just disappeared. I have completely changed what I do for a living, what I do in my spare time, what occupies my mind, who I interact with on a daily basis. It's enormously dissatisfying to know that a part of you is missing. Currently on my reading list is Nancy Beach's book called Gifted to Lead--about being a woman leader in a world run by men. She reminds us that God didn't make a mistake when He made women leaders. That's reassuring. But only when I think of what could happen in my future life. Not in the context of my present life.
My identity constantly shifts--the things that identified me in high school and even college have morphed and adapted to new situations, my personality reflects some of these changes. There are parts of me that I like much better now than I did in high school. But there are parts of my high school and college identity that have been lost in the shuffle of my becoming someone different, someone more adult, someone more in control, someone needing order and balance in her life.
I don't think I can always control my identity. Sometimes it just happens to be who I am in the moments when I'm not conscious of my actions, when I have no one to impress and nothing to lose. I want more of those moments, but the reality is that I just care too much how I am perceived. I think this is a chronic condition...it's not going to go away no matter how successful or confident I become--I will still be somewhere inside the little girl I used to be...the little girl who envisioned herself doing great things but stayed within the limits of what she thought was actually achievable.
If I put my identity in the hands of the things I do or the hands of people around me, I will never keep it for very long. Those things are stolen from me every minute of every day. I am learning the art of gracefully accepting the identity stuffed inside my balanced and controlled exterior...and sometimes I look in the mirror and for a split second and see that true identity.
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