On Thursday I made it all the way up the hill without walking my bike for the first time! I wanted to mention this unbelievable progress on Friday but I spent too much time trying to find out the exact elevation change (a la "our house is 1000 feet straight above the high school [at Woodstock]!" -- it sounds way more impressive.
On Friday I opened at the winery and it was busy. I took a lot of tables and started talking to people, which I've realized I love doing. Too bad it takes me so long to transition into "social" mode from my self-sufficient mornings at home, so I can hold a conversation and actually be able to register and respond when someone ribs me or asks me a question... What a strange thing to suddenly realize about myself.
Among the items stuffed in our P.O. box at the end of that day I found a fat envelope from my Grampi, which included a letter beautifully penned on a sheet of blank computer paper (the improvised margins and densely stacked script reminded me of my old obsession with handwriting analysis) and one of those stapled, pocket-sized devotional books often found stacked in church entryways. Honestly my first impulse was to roll my eyes, but I am aware of how lucky I am to get a handwritten letter from him so I set it aside to look at later.
He wrote about how much he loved visiting my school and attending my graduation -- he's been present for a good percentage of his grandchildren's graduations from high school, college, even fifth grade, eighth grade, or kindergarten. He reminded me how lucky I am to have spent the last four years at a Good Christian School, which is something a lot of my family members appreciate considerably more than I do. And I read, in his own hand: "Thanks for your comment about anthropology. It's an area of study I love." At which point I almost laughed. How far we have come!
So on Saturday morning I opened the little book to June 18, 2011, and read the reflection aloud to Ann. We giggled a little bit through it, that somehow the two of us are eating Saturday brunch together and reading Bible verses and devotionals. "This is bad," she laughed, "but can I translate the basic thesis to eyes on the prize?" As it turns out, the translation of the verse they included said something like "keep your eye on the prize of Christ" -- not exactly, but close enough to be hilarious.
I'm treating this lightly here, but the truth is I've been feeling over the past semester --I'll call them text messages from God, just a little vibration in my pocket that gives forth a message like, "Sup, girl?" Like, a few months ago on a Wednesday morning, I was sitting across from Mary in the caf crying about how I probably would never find anyone who wanted to take on my emotional baggage, no one who could help me carry it. She clamped her lips together, but not before she had blurted out, "Jesus!" I laughed, spraying tears all over our french toast. "I'm sorry," she said, grinning sheepishly, "but I couldn't help it."
And what are the chances that I would start doing devos on a day whose message is "stay focused on Christ"? I don't believe it's coincidence. When it comes down to it, I rarely do.
But I'm also not ready to settle into a church, not ready to dedicate my life's work to the Christian God. Right now I am uncharacteristically receptive to invitations to faith. I'm inclined to think that someone's got an eye out for me, that I matter intrinsically as a part of a Creation which begs my care and in which I play a crucial role -- but not that my steps are plotted out for me or that my ultimate purpose is already recorded by a pencil without an eraser. Maybe. I'm not going to touch that one right now. I'm not ready to say that the Christian God is the One and the Only (Alpha and Omega!). I doubt if I will ever be ready to pledge my life to mission work (which in my family seems almost as radical as joining a vegan nudist colony would be for most of my peers).
All I'm saying is, I'm feeling open-minded. Open-hearted maybe. It's time for another Reformation, a Great Awakening, a religious revival. Right now, I could get gung-ho about jumping on that worship-band-wagon...
On Friday I opened at the winery and it was busy. I took a lot of tables and started talking to people, which I've realized I love doing. Too bad it takes me so long to transition into "social" mode from my self-sufficient mornings at home, so I can hold a conversation and actually be able to register and respond when someone ribs me or asks me a question... What a strange thing to suddenly realize about myself.
Among the items stuffed in our P.O. box at the end of that day I found a fat envelope from my Grampi, which included a letter beautifully penned on a sheet of blank computer paper (the improvised margins and densely stacked script reminded me of my old obsession with handwriting analysis) and one of those stapled, pocket-sized devotional books often found stacked in church entryways. Honestly my first impulse was to roll my eyes, but I am aware of how lucky I am to get a handwritten letter from him so I set it aside to look at later.
He wrote about how much he loved visiting my school and attending my graduation -- he's been present for a good percentage of his grandchildren's graduations from high school, college, even fifth grade, eighth grade, or kindergarten. He reminded me how lucky I am to have spent the last four years at a Good Christian School, which is something a lot of my family members appreciate considerably more than I do. And I read, in his own hand: "Thanks for your comment about anthropology. It's an area of study I love." At which point I almost laughed. How far we have come!
So on Saturday morning I opened the little book to June 18, 2011, and read the reflection aloud to Ann. We giggled a little bit through it, that somehow the two of us are eating Saturday brunch together and reading Bible verses and devotionals. "This is bad," she laughed, "but can I translate the basic thesis to eyes on the prize?" As it turns out, the translation of the verse they included said something like "keep your eye on the prize of Christ" -- not exactly, but close enough to be hilarious.
I'm treating this lightly here, but the truth is I've been feeling over the past semester --I'll call them text messages from God, just a little vibration in my pocket that gives forth a message like, "Sup, girl?" Like, a few months ago on a Wednesday morning, I was sitting across from Mary in the caf crying about how I probably would never find anyone who wanted to take on my emotional baggage, no one who could help me carry it. She clamped her lips together, but not before she had blurted out, "Jesus!" I laughed, spraying tears all over our french toast. "I'm sorry," she said, grinning sheepishly, "but I couldn't help it."
And what are the chances that I would start doing devos on a day whose message is "stay focused on Christ"? I don't believe it's coincidence. When it comes down to it, I rarely do.
But I'm also not ready to settle into a church, not ready to dedicate my life's work to the Christian God. Right now I am uncharacteristically receptive to invitations to faith. I'm inclined to think that someone's got an eye out for me, that I matter intrinsically as a part of a Creation which begs my care and in which I play a crucial role -- but not that my steps are plotted out for me or that my ultimate purpose is already recorded by a pencil without an eraser. Maybe. I'm not going to touch that one right now. I'm not ready to say that the Christian God is the One and the Only (Alpha and Omega!). I doubt if I will ever be ready to pledge my life to mission work (which in my family seems almost as radical as joining a vegan nudist colony would be for most of my peers).
All I'm saying is, I'm feeling open-minded. Open-hearted maybe. It's time for another Reformation, a Great Awakening, a religious revival. Right now, I could get gung-ho about jumping on that worship-band-wagon...
C de T,
ReplyDeleteI thought of you when I listened to this recent 'On Being' podcast: "Presence in the Wild." (google it if you wish.) It was, actually, one of the saddest hours I've had in a long time, but there were many useful moments and phrases. Your post makes me think of the traditions and theology of Unitarian Universalism. I'm finding the language of UU being really conducive to the inclusive-yet-skeptical-but-always-spiritual frame of Heart I find myself in these days. Just thought I'd throw that out there!
eel