Tuesday, December 11, 2007
Tuesday, November 06, 2007
The Art of Travel
~Alain de Botton, The Art of Travel, p. 54
Saturday, October 06, 2007
"ride on the heights of the land"
For now, this passage from Isaiah 58:6-14 speaks for me.
'"Is not this the kind of fasting I have chosen: to loose the chains of injustice and untie the cords of the yoke, to set the oppressed free and break every yoke?
Is it not to share your food with the hungry and to provide the poor wanderer with shelter--when you see the naked, to clothe him, and not to turn away from your own flesh and blood?
Then your light will break forth like the dawn, and your healing will quickly appear; then your righteousness will go before you, and the glory of the Lord will be your rear guard.
Then you will call, and the Lord will answer; you will cry for help, and he will say: Here am I.
If you do away with the yoke of oppression, with the pointing finger and malicious talk,
and if you spend yourselves in behalf of the hungry and satisfy the needs of the oppressed, then your light will rise in the darkness, and your night will become like the noonday.
The Lord will guide you always; he will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land and will strengthen your frame. You will be like a well-watered garden, like a spring whose waters never fail.
Your people will rebuild the ancient ruins and will raise up the age-old foundations; you will be called Repairer of Broken Walls, Restorer of Streets with Dwellings.
If you keep your feet from breaking the Sabbath and from doing as you please on my holy day, if you call the Sabbath a delight and the Lord's holy day honorable, and if you honor it by not going your own way and not doing as you please or speaking idle words,
then you will find your joy in the Lord and I will cause you to ride on the heights of the land and to feast on the inheritance of your father Jacob."
The mouth of the Lord has spoken."
Wednesday, September 05, 2007
Thursday, August 30, 2007
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Madeleine L'engle, Walking on Water, pg 24
When the work takes over, then the artist is enabled to get out of the way, not to interfere. When the work takes over, then the artist listens.
But before he can listen, paradoxically, he must work. Getting out of the way and listening is not something that comes easily, either in art or in prayer.
Before I can listen to God in prayer, I must fumble through the prayers of words, of willful demands, the prayers of childish "Gimmes", of "Help mes," of "I want...." Until I tell God what I want, I have no way of knowing whether or not I truly want it. Unless I ask God for something, I do not know whether or not it is something for which I ought to ask, and I cannot add, "But if this is not your will for me, then your will is what I want, not mine." The prayers of words cannot be eliminated. And I must pray them daily, whether I feel like praying or not. Otherwise, when God has something to say to me, I will not know how to listen. Until I have worked through self, I will not be enabled to get out of the way.
Someone wrote, "The prinicipal part of faith is patience," and this applies, too, to art of all disciplines. We must work every day, whether we feel like it or not, otherwise when it comes time to get out of the way and listen to the work, we will not be able to heed it.
Mrs. Gleason, I Love Technology, too!
As Katie said today, "I love technology..." As much as I hate how numb-headed it can make me sometimes, where I then resolve to myspace/facebook/cyworld fasting because I find myself plastered to the screen, browsing through pictures and comments and junk for hours on end, I still love that technology allows me to talk on SKYPE.COM to my friends who are far far away, as I did today with Katie, and as I did on Sunday with Ruth. I love run-on sentences, too.
Maybe one day we will all live in this one village where our kids will be running around eating each others' cookies and painting each others' faces. Maybe. Man, that would be marvelous. Gabe, Nicole's baby, would marry one of my daughters and make beautiful bronzed babies. And we mommas/grannies would be fit and trim because we'd go for runs and marathons together. We'd make a large home for children who needed a safe place to paint, sing, write, and be loved on, and we'd do this together. There would be none of this gnawing missing feeling...we'd be building our lives together as we had once tried to seal with a seemingly stabilizing pact.
Well, life happens as it happens. And here we are, some still single, some still in school, some newlywed, some sick, some well, some thriving, separating, thinking, child-rearing, etc etc. All the people that I wish were near me today seem to be scattered all over everywhere, living lives that we all have to live and commit to for now. And I'd say it's a dung-like, shitty place to be sometimes, but I know that for now, it's also the kind of lives we must live and be faithful to. I do believe, as I know my favorite people believe, that one day these dreams of community can and will be ones we'll dream of while still awake, but for now, this'll do. And technology is our toy to play with, together.
But I gotta lay off on the numbing hours in front of this iBook (aka, laptop), for I have some projects to get to...
Starting from September, I will be working part-time in order to have extra time and energy to work on some projects that have been flipping around in my head and heart for quite a while now. I have no idea how long it'll take to complete, nor can I confidently say that it will ever really be completed, but I know I've made the right decision for myself to begin transferring these pieces of me into art forms. There are voices still giving me doubts about whether it is the wisest decision for me to do this now, but I have to listen to what my heart is saying because I've been shutting it up for a long time and I feel like I'm not living the truth. So here begin my adventures and I know this can't be done on my own.
So I pray and I pray. God, will you help me tell your truth. Of who you are, through what you've done in me, what you've done in those closest to me, what you've done in all parts of the world, all that you do now, and every single promise you will keep. Let me tell your story through the story you've given to me. Bare. As is.
Monday, August 20, 2007
Marry Teacher
One of these third grade students, Sarah, had a dream about me and she told it to the class today. It was filled with details and colors, I loved it. I'll try to recite it as close to how she told it...
During class one day I told all the kids that I was feeling really sick and had to go home. So I asked if Sarah would take me home. At my apartment, I put on a white wedding dress and veil and handed her an invitation that said, "Mary will marry, will you come to my wedding?" Then I kept making comments about how beautiful I looked.
So we got into a car that was decorated with balloons and drove to the wedding hall where the groom was waiting. He was chanting, "Mary, Mary, Mary...!!..." dressed in a red suit and yellow tie with "Mary Mary Mary Mary" written all over it in blue print. A co-teacher later figured out he might have been Ronald McDonald.
The person marrying us did the exchange of vows. He asked McDonald if he would take me as his wife and love me forever and Mac's response was, "I don't know." Then I was asked if I would take Mac and love him forever. I said, "um...maybe, maybe, maybe." Apparently, I always say that to my students, um maybe. I just kept saying how beautiful I was. Then I ran away, into the car, with Sarah. Mac ran after me, jumped on top of the car to make me laugh, landing on a balloon and popping it.
Then somehow we ended up back in the classroom but this time I was still in my wedding dress, veil, and holding a bouquet in front of me. I announced to the class, "Tomorrow, I'm getting married. Will you come?" And the kids all asked me if I would say yes to the question this time, and I just kept chanting, "Maybe, maybe, maybe." I then mentioned how beautiful I looked.
What a dream. I don't think I've ever really talked about my love life, sick days, or beauty with them before. Anyway, the entire class was laughing. Then I asked her if the man was handsome and she said he was cross-eyed and was wearing large-rimmed red glasses, under a mass of puffy hair. He also had a large hoop earring in one ear, and a small heart-shaped stud in the other. And he just kept chanting, "Mary, Mary, Mary," with this marching gesture with the arms.
Later, she told me that when she told her mom about the dream, her mom said that maybe I was going to get married this year. I asked Sarah how it made her feel when she found out I was going to get married in her dream. Children are so honest. She said it made her feel sad because it could mean that I wouldn't teach her anymore. How precious is that? But how real too...and I realized then that her dream was significant for me to hear as it reminds me that my singleness is precious. It's true, if I were getting married now, I may not be able to stay with them.
I'm like most single 24 year-olds, wishing for a soulmate, but I think for now, I'm okay with the maybe's. Sarah's dream was an insightful one, showing me that I have her and the other kiddies to love and enjoy for now. And maybe McDonald will show up sooner or later, but it's going to be okay without him right now. I do have a feeling he's out there somewhere, but maybe it's just not timing for me to meet him yet because I have a lot more to love in myself and to love in others. Plus, it may not be timing for him either, as he might have to tone down the colors a tad. Although, I must say, he sounded pretty hot to me.
Anyway, I'm glad I'm Beautiful Marry Teacher to my loves.