Sunday, March 30, 2008

Lately I've been reading this book.

Never before have I felt such a connection to the world community and the need to include food consumption into my theology.

In our prayers at church on Sunday, we include a prayer asking God to give us all a reverence for the earth as his own creation, that we may use its resources rightly in the service of others and to his honor and glory. And such it should be, for we been given a great gift.

Tuesday, March 25, 2008

with honey's coffee in my hand.

today the wind blew my white curtain around the room
and the evening sun cast long shadows
through rippling curls of fabric.

the birds are singing and i'm ready for spring.

Saturday, March 8, 2008

On giving up things.

Today is the twenty-eighth day of Lent. I know that not because i've been counting, but because i read it in a book somewhere. In this period of the church calendar, those living in developed countries give up Special Things that hold their heart. Things like chocolate or television. And by giving up their daily allotment of Special Things, they create room for Jesus. Three-hundred and forty-five days of the year they fill themselves up with all sorts of Special Things and, in doing so, forget that they are, in fact, terrible people.

People and books tell them that they need something bigger; that these Special Things will not satisfy them any longer than it takes to taste a piece of chocolate or watch a television program, but they do them anyway. They forget. The way they fill their lives with Special Things is like putting scotch tape over a wound.

I believe that i must feel needy. I believe that my crack-addicted neighbor should make me hurt inside, and that if i forget to do something that i should feel bad about it. In comparison to the beauty of Canada's Lake Louise, i should feel small and ugly, and when the shadows of night creep after the setting sun, i should fear for my life.

I believe that to feel able to drive in my working, insured, job-supported car to purchase a wide-screen television and Wii whenever i would want would be the same as living a lie. For in such a state, i do not feel needy. I would feel able to cover any need with a containter of Butter Brickle Ice Cream.

And so, i believe in Lent. Not the scotch tape kind of Lent, but the frightening kind of Lent that tells me i am not worth saving from any sort of harm.

But that He still will.

Wednesday, March 5, 2008

sing to your mother, little bird

The birds have returned and this makes us very glad. Megan in particular scowls at the geese, They just poop all over and are annoying, she says, and I agree with her that they poop all over. But I remember that they are beautiful creatures with beautiful songs and not at all worthy of having their heads cut off and microwaved like some kids in the local dorm. I heard someone say they were a Natural Heritage once, but I'm not sure what it means to be a Heritage.

Today I stopped at the window and looked at Spring. I heard Spring in the tree outside the neighbor's house. The neighbor who would always ask me for cigarettes and then say Danke schön when I gave her one. She had cuts on her wrists and I wondered if she ever tried reading Tolstoy or Dickens, but I didn't ask her. The tree outside her house sings of Spring. At least thirty birds climb into that tree and sing their hearts out, and I wonder if anyone can doubt that Spring has finally come, but Effie still mumbles about the weather, Oh it's a cold one today, Oh, she says with a shake of her head. I want to tell her that the birds outside my crack-taking neighbor's house know that it's spring and that the geese who poop on the sidewalk know it's spring, but instead I agree, Oh yeah it's crazy cold out there.

I think that the earth can hear the little birds and the pooping birds and is starting to wake up. I can smell the earth on warm days and I know that she is turning over in her sleep, ready to rise from the dead for another season. And so I sing as well, strumming
Such Great Heights or Falling Slowly, which are both love songs but are sad and about losing something, on my guitar.

Maybe spring will come soon, and we will all gather at last to drink His wine, knowing that life has again come to this sad little, dead little planet of earth.

Monday, March 3, 2008

march is here, to bring out the earth.

Yesterday i took pictures for Mr. Luke. i grabbed my Polaroid camera, since i told myself that i wanted to send out the pictures with the morning post and hadn't time to develop them, and went to church.

Lunch with Mr. N-train followed church. We walked around campus trying to find geese for him to show disapproval of. This will give him a good idea of what life is like here, he said. So this was the plan. Get a good thumbs-down to the geese and send it along for Luke to see. Neither i nor Mr. N-train approve of the geese. Watch out for the goose poop i told him.

The geese did not cooperate, but ran off whenever we tried to approach. i thought we should try to corner them, but N-train showed his disapproval too hastily. It was not caught by the camera. On the other hand, we found two people, one of whom insisted that i tell Luke that she wanted a pony, and that he would understand, and the other who laughed very easily. They both said goodbye and we answered goodbye.

i dropped n-train off and went to coffee with two people i love dearly. i talked to them about life after cpo, and they talked about their surprise--something i'm not supposed to talk about, but i can talk to my family and c's family and my GF about. As we sat at the bar having coffee, we watched the cars go by. Since E&C had recently bought a car, and i had helped research, this was a very easy topic of conversation. E said that they were very happy with their car, but that the lady who had owned it before had smoked in it and put a lot of air fresheners in it and they've been trying to ignore the smell but sometimes it's just too overpowering. i think their car smells like gum.

So tomorrow i will send off my letter to Luke. i have one more picture to take, of an old friend that Luke spent a lot of time with. He referred to this thing that i'm going to take a picture of as a "she" but i don't know how he could tell the difference. Trees don't usually have genders. i think i heard once that they were in fact both genders. But to Luke it was a she.