I find myself sitting in my little house that has become a refuge of sorts for me. It is indeed a little house that sits behind the larger “main” house. Someone built it a long time ago as a jam band garage of sorts. Heidi has since turned into a home office by day and I have turned it into a study room by night. The night is comfortable enough for my door to be open this evening. Unlike last night when it was chilly. Lyndsey stopped by to see if I would go and study with her. She scaled our 8 ft privacy fence. I left her hanging up there for a bit until I could figure out what she could step on to get down. She is young enough to be one of my youth kids from a good long time ago. Those guys are all out of college now and working on their lives. Some are married. One is an ad exec in New York. Another, the ad execs best friend, is married and expecting her first child. I still think of them.
I particularly think of them today. There was a terrible shooting at Virginia Tech yesterday. I know Blacksburg. It is an hour and a half from where I went to school. Tech is nestled in the mountains and has a beautiful rambling campus. It used to be a military school I think. The original buildings are stone. White stone now streaked with blood.
I talked with my friend Sam today. He is as conservative as I am liberal. We don’t agree on much except we both know that Jesus loves US. We discussed the shooting. He mentioned that the young man who killed these students and himself was from “CO-rea”. I mention this not only because of his East Tennessee accent, but because of his sometimes irritatingly hostile statements about those who are not from “around these parts”. He did mention that the young man was a legal resident from Korea. I applauded him for that. The immigrant card was off the table. Then Sam went on to talk about how he bought a gun in Roanoke several days before the shooting. I, of all people, said, “well you can do that”. He agreed. But couldn’t say much more about the purchase. Other than it was a gun intended to kill people. And not to hunt and not to have on the mantle.
I think about those kids up there. The RA who went to help when he heard a commotion. I did that once. It was friend who had crawled down the hall suffering excruciating pain from kidney stones. I sat with her head in my lap until the ambulance came. She was ok. This fella was not. I think about the 19 and 20 year olds who were from small towns in Virginia. Some were just starting their college careers. They could be youth group kids. They ARE someone’s children. And they got up one day to go to class and they suffered horribly.
The Tech President was being questioned today by Matt Lauer. (why not Meredith?). He discussed what they thought they knew yesterday. That by letting kids go to class it would be a way to protect them. He too was doing his job yesterday. I can’t imagine the guilt and second guessing he must be going through. As a former college staffer, I understand the responsibility he feels. Parents entrust their precious children to folks they don’t know in order for them to be educated. And now what?
Blame will be placed in all places. Sam mentioned lawsuits. Sure those will happen. But for what good? They are hiring more Campus Police at UTK. Great! Why did it take this? My guess is once the news dies down and state budgets get cut, those jobs will not be available.
And finally, what about the young man who was very troubled and angry it appears. He was supposedly a loner. A man with a dark sense of self. He too was someone’s child. His parents, much like the Columbine shooters parents, hurt. Who is to say their dreams aren’t shattered as well?
I don’t understand it. I don’t get it. I don’t get how we can live in a place that can find it so easy to hate the “other” when the other is loved by someone. And when we are all loved by GOD, for God’s sake. Sam would say this young man was not loved by God. He would say he will pay for his sins. I think perhaps this young man may be at peace. The demons quieted. Maybe not. I tend to look at things through rose colored glasses sometimes. But I can’t conceive of a God that doesn’t hurt with us. That doesn’t grieve with us while still trying to show us how to love.
Even in the awfulest of times.
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
And it's only Tuesday
1) Sunday – Easter Baptism. I heard, "you are a child of God".
2) Monday- My own Easter Sermon for Homiletics . I heard "spirit filled".
3) Tuesday – I heard Matt Lauer give Don Imus more airtime after he was suspended from CBS Radio.
4) Tuesday -I heard C. Vivian Stringer, a coach, a woman, a mother, speak out for her team who might as well be her family. “we had to experience racist and sexist remarks that are deplorable, despicable, and abominable and unconscionable. It hurts me." C. Viv, it hurts us all.
5) Tuesday - I heard three speakers at school talk about HIV/AIDS in the Black Church. We can’t talk in ANY church about sexuality. Based on # 3 and 4, we apparently can’t talk appropriately about each other.
Can we go back to number one and start over?
2) Monday- My own Easter Sermon for Homiletics . I heard "spirit filled".
3) Tuesday – I heard Matt Lauer give Don Imus more airtime after he was suspended from CBS Radio.
4) Tuesday -I heard C. Vivian Stringer, a coach, a woman, a mother, speak out for her team who might as well be her family. “we had to experience racist and sexist remarks that are deplorable, despicable, and abominable and unconscionable. It hurts me." C. Viv, it hurts us all.
5) Tuesday - I heard three speakers at school talk about HIV/AIDS in the Black Church. We can’t talk in ANY church about sexuality. Based on # 3 and 4, we apparently can’t talk appropriately about each other.
Can we go back to number one and start over?
Saturday, April 7, 2007
Prayer 40% Off
Prayer is 40% off at the 21st Century Bookstore.
I should say that only in the 21st Century would prayer be 40% off. As if it was a commodity of sorts. To some it is, I guess. My assumption is that this 40% off sale is for Prayer books maybe? I hope so otherwise I owe somebody something.
I should say that only in the 21st Century would prayer be 40% off. As if it was a commodity of sorts. To some it is, I guess. My assumption is that this 40% off sale is for Prayer books maybe? I hope so otherwise I owe somebody something.
Wonder if there is an after Easter Clearance?
Wow! That’d be a concept. Clearance after the resurrection! After nothing is left in the tomb?! Cool! Liquidation! I can see it now…. Shrouds and linens clearance.
My friend Lyndsey saw this sign a few days ago. I had seen it a few weeks ago and forgotten about it. We are in school together, she and I. The two of us along with our friend Anna Russell Kelly are our own version of the Three Amigos. But we really resemble the Three Stooges. We had a 3 second conversation in the hallway of my house last night. We were all talking at once or in some monosyllabic manner finishing the other’s sentences as we often do. We finish them for each other because one of the three of us is laughing too hard to complete a sentence.
When Heidi and I left Chattanooga for this adventure, I prayed there would be people here to receive us. I never dreamed I would find two 20 something’s who would care for me to see me through this place. Lynds and AR are “2nd Years”. They have been through this “1st Year” stuff and have tutored me along with plenty of realistic expectations and a calming presence when the work has been overwhelming for me. They are kindred spirits who have taken me into their lives.
Lyndsey is the one with the activist heart who keeps the fire going for all of us. I tell her we are twins of different mothers 20 years apart. The funny thing is while she reminds us of our responsibility to each other and to the world around us in this fired up manner she carries with her, she is the heart and soul of us. Truly. A heart that loves more than most. For longer than most. She can argue with a doorpost and it most likely will move. She has an ability to see the “man behind the curtain”. Her knowledge and understanding of theory and practice are amazing to me. I can do one or the other but I can’t put the two together for Pete. Her dreams of a PhD will be realized and she will go on to teach others to do for themselves in a manner that will benefit the communities they live in. I am proud of her.
AR is the funny, kindhearted, best-friend-forever. I want to call her naïve but it isn’t that really. It is an awareness of being in the moment with someone that is her nature. She too has an activist heart for the homeless and the underprivileged. She is uncertain a bit as to what is in store for her after school. She wants marriage and children and feels guilty for wanting that Volvo down the street. At the same time, she is a welcoming hospitable spirit that wants to serve those who have needs beyond their control. She is interning at a church next to the Nashville Mission. She is capable of arguing for those whose destinies have unfortunately been decided for them. AR gives voice to those who can’t always speak for themselves. I am proud of her as well.
I know from previous life experience in the “other” world that we can get sidetracked from our dreams and our call. I am living proof of that. Maybe not the sidetrack but the meandering of life I guess. I want us to all get where we are going. But together. I hope in their taking care of me now I can return the favor in the future. However that may be. I have friends who are incredible stalwarts in my life. I know that. But to have friends who share in the journey you are on and who let you be who you really are, that is a blessing. I guess God knew what was up when these two wandered in or actually I crashed their party. They are the arms I seek when I need a good hug. One that takes you in and holds every bit part of you. They are the ears who hear my "joys and concerns". Theirs is the laughter I hear when I get too excited to talk and end up in tears due to a spittle episode after a math lesson.
I pray our lives will always have room for all of us. Those prayers aren’t 40% off.
Wow! That’d be a concept. Clearance after the resurrection! After nothing is left in the tomb?! Cool! Liquidation! I can see it now…. Shrouds and linens clearance.
My friend Lyndsey saw this sign a few days ago. I had seen it a few weeks ago and forgotten about it. We are in school together, she and I. The two of us along with our friend Anna Russell Kelly are our own version of the Three Amigos. But we really resemble the Three Stooges. We had a 3 second conversation in the hallway of my house last night. We were all talking at once or in some monosyllabic manner finishing the other’s sentences as we often do. We finish them for each other because one of the three of us is laughing too hard to complete a sentence.
When Heidi and I left Chattanooga for this adventure, I prayed there would be people here to receive us. I never dreamed I would find two 20 something’s who would care for me to see me through this place. Lynds and AR are “2nd Years”. They have been through this “1st Year” stuff and have tutored me along with plenty of realistic expectations and a calming presence when the work has been overwhelming for me. They are kindred spirits who have taken me into their lives.
Lyndsey is the one with the activist heart who keeps the fire going for all of us. I tell her we are twins of different mothers 20 years apart. The funny thing is while she reminds us of our responsibility to each other and to the world around us in this fired up manner she carries with her, she is the heart and soul of us. Truly. A heart that loves more than most. For longer than most. She can argue with a doorpost and it most likely will move. She has an ability to see the “man behind the curtain”. Her knowledge and understanding of theory and practice are amazing to me. I can do one or the other but I can’t put the two together for Pete. Her dreams of a PhD will be realized and she will go on to teach others to do for themselves in a manner that will benefit the communities they live in. I am proud of her.
AR is the funny, kindhearted, best-friend-forever. I want to call her naïve but it isn’t that really. It is an awareness of being in the moment with someone that is her nature. She too has an activist heart for the homeless and the underprivileged. She is uncertain a bit as to what is in store for her after school. She wants marriage and children and feels guilty for wanting that Volvo down the street. At the same time, she is a welcoming hospitable spirit that wants to serve those who have needs beyond their control. She is interning at a church next to the Nashville Mission. She is capable of arguing for those whose destinies have unfortunately been decided for them. AR gives voice to those who can’t always speak for themselves. I am proud of her as well.
I know from previous life experience in the “other” world that we can get sidetracked from our dreams and our call. I am living proof of that. Maybe not the sidetrack but the meandering of life I guess. I want us to all get where we are going. But together. I hope in their taking care of me now I can return the favor in the future. However that may be. I have friends who are incredible stalwarts in my life. I know that. But to have friends who share in the journey you are on and who let you be who you really are, that is a blessing. I guess God knew what was up when these two wandered in or actually I crashed their party. They are the arms I seek when I need a good hug. One that takes you in and holds every bit part of you. They are the ears who hear my "joys and concerns". Theirs is the laughter I hear when I get too excited to talk and end up in tears due to a spittle episode after a math lesson.
I pray our lives will always have room for all of us. Those prayers aren’t 40% off.
Tuesday, April 3, 2007
National Champions 2007
I will attempt not to gloat. But I am happy. I will wear orange tomorrow.A few parting words:
Quit asking Candace Parker if she is leaving. She is not leaving despite Nancy Leiberman’s predictions of European riches.
Sidney finally found the basket. Go Sid Go!
Pat finally found a point guard.
Pat needs to find a comb. Or quit poofing her hair.
Pat has two more than Geno… and that is all that really matters.
Gail went to Texas. A pity she can't have some respect from a program she built.
Pokey is still missing. Probably best for the time being. Hang in there Pokey. Hopefully, there is grace to go around.
All will be well if Vanderbilt can keep Melanie. I hope so. I have grown fond of the Jersey Girl.
The next season starts in 197 days. If I can add, which is questionable.
The SEC Women’s Tournament is in Nashville next year.
I made a rather feeble attempt to exegete Revelation for the express purpose of this blog but I decided to let this be it. It became a Pat vs Geno eschatological synopsis and I got anxious. And then I wondered if I was in the 144,000 or if I just got confused and thought I was at Neyland Stadium waiting in line for the bathroom at a UT football game.
"It is done. I am the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End.”
I love basketball.
Sunday, April 1, 2007
Palm Sunday Fun
Palm Sunday. The day that is proclaimed to be the re-enactment of Jesus’ triumphal ride into Jerusalem on a donkey.
I love Palm Sunday. Not for the sentiment but for the simple fact that Palm fronds are way too fun. For everybody! At church, we were given palm fronds that were grown on a sustainable farm. At least that was our hope. I go to a progressive Baptist church and we are trying to do things “right”. One can only hope that when you order palm fronds from Guatemala that they are a) from Guatemala and b) are actually from the sustainable farm that advertises them. Otherwise, I am not sure what happens. Do you send them back?
The morning proceeds with the usual children’s “parade” down the aisle. Palms waving every which way. There is the little girl who waves it incessantly all the way to the altar. The little boy who sticks the end up his nose and then shows his friend what happens when you do this. He may leave it up his nose even. Embarrassing Mom and Dad and every one else. There is the little boy who waves his open hand palm to family members who are present, palm frond dangling at his side. All in all no one knows what to expect other than it will be a cutie patooties.
The choir then enters from the narthex. Voices carrying upward to the ceiling as we sing “All Glory Laud and Honor”. Now the fun begins. Leading the choir are those members who wave the fronds dramatically in the elbow, elbow, wrist-wrist-wrist action often associated with beauty pageants. Waving their fronds high in the air for the most effective performance of professional frond waving. The men are better at this, waving them instead in front of their music thus having to readjust their music folders AROUND the palm instead of waving the palm in a manner more conducive to holding their music. Maybe waving the frond in their neighbor’s ear. Finally the pastors who have been-there done-this so many times that they have t-shirt that says “I survived the Lenten Season”. They merely allow the palm to be carried as though it were a flag staff. It’ll wave then as it will.
The palms given to the congregation find themselves in all sorts of contortions and conniptions. We sit on them. We drop them in the floor. They serve as placeholders for the next hymn. For certain we do not know when to wave them. Is it during the choir introit? During the solo? We can certainly try our best waves in “Freebird” fashion like we did when we all had lighters in the arena rock days. I tried to do that during the offertory hymn but Heidi wasn’t paying attention and it wasn’t that fun then. Instead, during the prayer Heidi and I practiced our “beauty palm frond wave” as demonstrated by the choir. The older ladies in front of us were playing too. Waving them in each other’s hymnals as the invitation was sung. We are never too old to play.
I am not so sure Jesus’ last week started on such a high note. I would hope those folks in Jerusalem were better palm wavers.
But somehow, I don’t think Jesus would mind our lack of palm waving etiquette. As long as we know what comes next.
I love Palm Sunday. Not for the sentiment but for the simple fact that Palm fronds are way too fun. For everybody! At church, we were given palm fronds that were grown on a sustainable farm. At least that was our hope. I go to a progressive Baptist church and we are trying to do things “right”. One can only hope that when you order palm fronds from Guatemala that they are a) from Guatemala and b) are actually from the sustainable farm that advertises them. Otherwise, I am not sure what happens. Do you send them back?
The morning proceeds with the usual children’s “parade” down the aisle. Palms waving every which way. There is the little girl who waves it incessantly all the way to the altar. The little boy who sticks the end up his nose and then shows his friend what happens when you do this. He may leave it up his nose even. Embarrassing Mom and Dad and every one else. There is the little boy who waves his open hand palm to family members who are present, palm frond dangling at his side. All in all no one knows what to expect other than it will be a cutie patooties.
The choir then enters from the narthex. Voices carrying upward to the ceiling as we sing “All Glory Laud and Honor”. Now the fun begins. Leading the choir are those members who wave the fronds dramatically in the elbow, elbow, wrist-wrist-wrist action often associated with beauty pageants. Waving their fronds high in the air for the most effective performance of professional frond waving. The men are better at this, waving them instead in front of their music thus having to readjust their music folders AROUND the palm instead of waving the palm in a manner more conducive to holding their music. Maybe waving the frond in their neighbor’s ear. Finally the pastors who have been-there done-this so many times that they have t-shirt that says “I survived the Lenten Season”. They merely allow the palm to be carried as though it were a flag staff. It’ll wave then as it will.
The palms given to the congregation find themselves in all sorts of contortions and conniptions. We sit on them. We drop them in the floor. They serve as placeholders for the next hymn. For certain we do not know when to wave them. Is it during the choir introit? During the solo? We can certainly try our best waves in “Freebird” fashion like we did when we all had lighters in the arena rock days. I tried to do that during the offertory hymn but Heidi wasn’t paying attention and it wasn’t that fun then. Instead, during the prayer Heidi and I practiced our “beauty palm frond wave” as demonstrated by the choir. The older ladies in front of us were playing too. Waving them in each other’s hymnals as the invitation was sung. We are never too old to play.
I am not so sure Jesus’ last week started on such a high note. I would hope those folks in Jerusalem were better palm wavers.
But somehow, I don’t think Jesus would mind our lack of palm waving etiquette. As long as we know what comes next.
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