Mumford & Sons!!!!! AAAAHHHHHH!!!!!
Anyway...
*Update:
Besides loving the cd...
I texted my sister randomly this evening while making some food. I asked if she'd heard of Mumford & Sons. Her reply? Yes, I got their cd last night. Oh Dang! We both bought the cd within an hour of each other without knowing at all. Super cool sibling stuff. (Well, probably the only time it's ever or will ever happen. But still.)
29.8.10
Lunch! Lunch for everyone!
Sometimes you give without meaning to at all. I did this past Saturday and it wasn't super rewarding or anything, but at least I find it funny.
After church Ben and I got our peas and spaghetti all made up and we went and sat down at the tables in the church basement (really, it's like a fellowship hall, only downstairs). Someone came in and started talking with Ben. And then these boys were running around. One of them spotted the frozen brownies that I'd left on the counter to thaw for a bit while we ate lunch. I ended up giving them to the boys, figured they'd enjoy it. I said they could eat them after they ate lunch. Little did I know...
Their dad came in and caught the tail end of my instructions. He must've thought I was the man or something because right away he introduced himself as Tim. Tim is 28 and is married to his wife. Go figure. She's 35. They have four boys. Tim's shy, he says. He doesn't normally talk like this. But for the next three hours he basically talked non-stop. I'm a sucker. I let him do it and didn't do anything to try and stop him. Not even very many nonverbal signals or anything. Our "conversation" went from the kitchen to outside where it was quieter (and much hotter), to the shade nearby, to back in the basement in a children's sabbath school room. Meanwhile, the wife and kids help themselves to spaghetti of Ben's and mine, my peas, and most of my popsicles and juice. I just watched them running around eating my popsicles the whole time I "talked" to Tim.
In the end, Ben came and rescued me, I suppose, and I learned that I need to always have something to do next so that when the next Tim comes along I can peace out before hour two. Also, that I should always make enough spaghetti and peas for four growing boys and a super-patient mom (you wouldn't even believe...).
And that's how I shared with a whole family and none of us even knew it. At first.
After church Ben and I got our peas and spaghetti all made up and we went and sat down at the tables in the church basement (really, it's like a fellowship hall, only downstairs). Someone came in and started talking with Ben. And then these boys were running around. One of them spotted the frozen brownies that I'd left on the counter to thaw for a bit while we ate lunch. I ended up giving them to the boys, figured they'd enjoy it. I said they could eat them after they ate lunch. Little did I know...
Their dad came in and caught the tail end of my instructions. He must've thought I was the man or something because right away he introduced himself as Tim. Tim is 28 and is married to his wife. Go figure. She's 35. They have four boys. Tim's shy, he says. He doesn't normally talk like this. But for the next three hours he basically talked non-stop. I'm a sucker. I let him do it and didn't do anything to try and stop him. Not even very many nonverbal signals or anything. Our "conversation" went from the kitchen to outside where it was quieter (and much hotter), to the shade nearby, to back in the basement in a children's sabbath school room. Meanwhile, the wife and kids help themselves to spaghetti of Ben's and mine, my peas, and most of my popsicles and juice. I just watched them running around eating my popsicles the whole time I "talked" to Tim.
In the end, Ben came and rescued me, I suppose, and I learned that I need to always have something to do next so that when the next Tim comes along I can peace out before hour two. Also, that I should always make enough spaghetti and peas for four growing boys and a super-patient mom (you wouldn't even believe...).
And that's how I shared with a whole family and none of us even knew it. At first.
26.8.10
The Library
I went to the Portland library today with Ben. It wasn't a date. He had to help someone talk with a lawyer. (It was successful.) But we had fun putting coins in the meter before going in.
I found a couple books on Peru for my research paper. And the ladies downstairs where the "real" books are helped me figure out that I can find country studies done by the government online via links at their website. That's pretty cool, I thought. I also spent some time in their catalogue and on my sister's facebook page where she had asked for people to put some book recommendations up. It was a great resource for books that have been on people's minds recently. I thus spent some time at the fiction section because many of the suggestions turned out to be fiction. I guess I have to admit that I like fiction as well. I've never read too much non-fiction. It's a fact that I let myself feel guilty about. And frankly, I think I should feel guilty about. Don't worry about letting me know how you think either way. I won't like it no matter what, and right now I don't care, either.
I like libraries. And I like books. Is it Inkheart where the dad is a book repairer guy? Well, I thought that would be a neat job. Of course, I've always wanted to be a blacksmith, too. Neither will ever happen. I still like books though. I will write one someday. It will probably have some notable sentences, maybe a neat thought or two intermingled. But I think the best part will just be the feeling of having organized thoughts and creativity into something that someone can call a book. That, I imagine, is a decent feeling.
It was nice to go to the library today. Incidentally, the job of librarian has also intrigued me for a time. They seem like they work in a good place.
I found a couple books on Peru for my research paper. And the ladies downstairs where the "real" books are helped me figure out that I can find country studies done by the government online via links at their website. That's pretty cool, I thought. I also spent some time in their catalogue and on my sister's facebook page where she had asked for people to put some book recommendations up. It was a great resource for books that have been on people's minds recently. I thus spent some time at the fiction section because many of the suggestions turned out to be fiction. I guess I have to admit that I like fiction as well. I've never read too much non-fiction. It's a fact that I let myself feel guilty about. And frankly, I think I should feel guilty about. Don't worry about letting me know how you think either way. I won't like it no matter what, and right now I don't care, either.
I like libraries. And I like books. Is it Inkheart where the dad is a book repairer guy? Well, I thought that would be a neat job. Of course, I've always wanted to be a blacksmith, too. Neither will ever happen. I still like books though. I will write one someday. It will probably have some notable sentences, maybe a neat thought or two intermingled. But I think the best part will just be the feeling of having organized thoughts and creativity into something that someone can call a book. That, I imagine, is a decent feeling.
It was nice to go to the library today. Incidentally, the job of librarian has also intrigued me for a time. They seem like they work in a good place.
25.8.10
backward and forward, always the same
splashing patterns of rain
kissing the earth
covering my steps
underneath the weeping trees
silver clouds
echoing thunder
forgetting the sun
i drift away
leaving myself alone
yesterdays of warmth
memories of his
24.8.10
Yer In For the Day
Yes, urine for the day. I was forced out of bed by a beneficent bladder this morning. I got my clothes on, grabbed my backpack, and walked bleary-eyed toward the church. I put my stuff down on the table by the kitchen. I had to walk funny down the hallway toward the bathroom to keep from causing an accident. Then, relief.
I just thought I should share. How did you wake up today?
I just thought I should share. How did you wake up today?
17.8.10
Shepherds
I'm comfortable with pastors all around me. It's how I grew up. It's what I've always known. I'm comfortable as long as they keep their distance and let me keep mine. It's okay if they just hang out and talk and argue and discuss and yell with each other during a game of horseshoe. It's okay if they go play golf all afternoon or make jokes about being vegetarian. I'm fine with them all wearing polos and short-sleeve button-ups with their pleated pants. Shirt tucked in. Average brown belt to keep it all sharp. It's great that they go to bed early and wake up early. It's fine that even they get bored during their meetings and start shuffling their feet and clearing their throats. I don't even mind them saying things that I don't understand or that I find myself not really feeling comfortable with. Maybe even if that means I disagree with them, even if I don't understand or couldn't give any reasons for my disagreement. I'm fine with all that. With these pastors. It's how I've grown up.
And they're all suckers.
They don't know me and I don't know them. And we're all happy about it. Now, if they get too close we have a problem. If they start getting on my case for anything, with the ruse of caring, of course, then I'm suddenly a shadow behind the wall that's immediately gone up between us. But don't worry, Pastors, I'm a good kid. I do what's right. I do what you expect. I do what the Bible seems to ask. Most of the time.
For the rest of the time, I'm in the shadows. You and your friendly handshakes can keep on being fooled by my wily facade. And even if you, dear reader, end up being one of those pastors, or one of those people who knows one of those pastors, and you read this, and it leaves you with questions, and you wonder why I'm being so shadowy right here, then just know that those questions will probably never be answered nor the reasons for them completely understood. Not by yourself, and certainly not ever by me. And that's the way it goes for now. I suppose if it changes I'll let you know. Until then, smile on my dears.
(In case it wasn't obvious, this is a bit satirical or cynical or whatever. I'm not always happy [refer here], nor do I feel that my joy is complete. But I'm also not the Judge. If you, precious reader, really believe what you preach, and if you're genuinely past where I'm at in this walk, then I suppose it's your solemn duty to keep praying for the Me-s in our church. It is your duty, not to coddle us nor enforce religious practices, but to trust in Him in whom you believe, to let Him care for us, to let us be responsible now for our own steps [for you have done your part] and then demonstrate the spirituality of old so that we may see it from farther away than inside a strangling love embrace, to stop trying to impress us with the church or your ideas or what you "really want for us," to stop arguing with us, to stop feeding our delight in the ease of life. It is time that we struggle. Satan has afforded us enough escapes from life to last our lifetime. In the brief pauses in between these escapes, simply turn your face to the Father. We only need His reflection to blind our eyes. Only then will we stop persecuting our own church. Thank you. And that's all for tonight.
God bless.)
And they're all suckers.
They don't know me and I don't know them. And we're all happy about it. Now, if they get too close we have a problem. If they start getting on my case for anything, with the ruse of caring, of course, then I'm suddenly a shadow behind the wall that's immediately gone up between us. But don't worry, Pastors, I'm a good kid. I do what's right. I do what you expect. I do what the Bible seems to ask. Most of the time.
For the rest of the time, I'm in the shadows. You and your friendly handshakes can keep on being fooled by my wily facade. And even if you, dear reader, end up being one of those pastors, or one of those people who knows one of those pastors, and you read this, and it leaves you with questions, and you wonder why I'm being so shadowy right here, then just know that those questions will probably never be answered nor the reasons for them completely understood. Not by yourself, and certainly not ever by me. And that's the way it goes for now. I suppose if it changes I'll let you know. Until then, smile on my dears.
(In case it wasn't obvious, this is a bit satirical or cynical or whatever. I'm not always happy [refer here], nor do I feel that my joy is complete. But I'm also not the Judge. If you, precious reader, really believe what you preach, and if you're genuinely past where I'm at in this walk, then I suppose it's your solemn duty to keep praying for the Me-s in our church. It is your duty, not to coddle us nor enforce religious practices, but to trust in Him in whom you believe, to let Him care for us, to let us be responsible now for our own steps [for you have done your part] and then demonstrate the spirituality of old so that we may see it from farther away than inside a strangling love embrace, to stop trying to impress us with the church or your ideas or what you "really want for us," to stop arguing with us, to stop feeding our delight in the ease of life. It is time that we struggle. Satan has afforded us enough escapes from life to last our lifetime. In the brief pauses in between these escapes, simply turn your face to the Father. We only need His reflection to blind our eyes. Only then will we stop persecuting our own church. Thank you. And that's all for tonight.
God bless.)
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