yi ye zhi qiu
"what did i do today? i looked through photographs. when i see your pictures i laugh because i like you " - grandma
Friday, November 27, 2009
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
slice of infinity (jill carattini)
http://www.rzim.org/USA/Resources/Read/ASliceofInfinity/TodaysSlice.aspx
"Jonah was a prophet by profession. He knew the liturgy and worship of the people of Israel by heart. So it is not unreasonable that as his life was ebbing away in the depths of the sea, Jonah cried out with the words of a psalm he had certainly heard countless times before. And yet, the words no doubt had a depth of meaning for him unlike anything they had ever had. As he was losing consciousness—literally in Hebrew, "in the feebleness of his person,"—Jonah not only remembered the LORD, but in some ways was seeing Him for the first time. Like one woken to a world both real and imaginary, Jonah quickly clung to what was real.
Jonah's behavior up until this point suggests the mentality that God was not entirely omnipresent, but present only in Israel, in the temple, and in the places of his own interest. As Jonah ran to Tarshish to avoid the call of God to go to Nineveh, he ran believing there was a place he could go where God could not find him. But as he sunk further into the depths of the sea, the prophet realized he was mercifully mistaken. His language seems a play on words—As I was losing consciousness, I remembered the LORD—or else, it was a sudden recognition of the Really Real in the imaginary world he had occupied. Losing consciousness, Jonah was actually gaining it.
Perhaps not wanting to consider the discomfort it would take to uproot our own embedded fallacies, we often minimize the distress that broke Jonah's silence with God. But the popular notion that Jonah went straight from the side of the ship and into the mouth of the fish is not supported by either the narrative as a whole or Jonah's cry for help. H. L. Ellison suggests, "[Jonah] was half drowned before he was swallowed. If he was still conscious, sheer dread would have caused him to faint—notice that there is no mention of the fish in his prayer. He can hardly have known what caused the change from wet darkness to an even greater dry darkness. When he did regain consciousness, it would have taken some time to realize that the all-enveloping darkness was not that of Sheol but of a mysterious safety."(1)
In the mysterious safety of the fish, Jonah shows us the strange world that unwound his imaginary one, and in it, the God who hears. Though the deep surrounded him and reeds were bound to his head, Jonah was heard—and his awareness of this was an essential turning point in his story. In prayer and darkness, Jonah admitted that the role of salvation is not in his hands. If only momentarily, the drowning prophet clung to a truth more hopeful than escapism and more able than idols: "Salvation belongs to the LORD" (2:9).
It is hard to believe that Jonah would have considered being swallowed alive a rescue, and yet it is precisely Jonah's considerations from which he needed to be rescued. At times, the deliverance we need is that of deliverance from ourselves. The reluctant prophet introduces us to the reality of self-deception and what is all too often our ironic refusal to face the face of God. Though our thoughts be wound in self and seaweed, and the depths of our imagined autonomy threaten to drown us, rescue is a valid hope. God is far more real than we often imagine.
---
my ideas of the realness of God being challenged over and over again in this exhaustion
http://www.rzim.org/USA/Resources/Read/ASliceofInfinity/TodaysSlice.aspx
"Jonah was a prophet by profession. He knew the liturgy and worship of the people of Israel by heart. So it is not unreasonable that as his life was ebbing away in the depths of the sea, Jonah cried out with the words of a psalm he had certainly heard countless times before. And yet, the words no doubt had a depth of meaning for him unlike anything they had ever had. As he was losing consciousness—literally in Hebrew, "in the feebleness of his person,"—Jonah not only remembered the LORD, but in some ways was seeing Him for the first time. Like one woken to a world both real and imaginary, Jonah quickly clung to what was real.
Jonah's behavior up until this point suggests the mentality that God was not entirely omnipresent, but present only in Israel, in the temple, and in the places of his own interest. As Jonah ran to Tarshish to avoid the call of God to go to Nineveh, he ran believing there was a place he could go where God could not find him. But as he sunk further into the depths of the sea, the prophet realized he was mercifully mistaken. His language seems a play on words—As I was losing consciousness, I remembered the LORD—or else, it was a sudden recognition of the Really Real in the imaginary world he had occupied. Losing consciousness, Jonah was actually gaining it.
Perhaps not wanting to consider the discomfort it would take to uproot our own embedded fallacies, we often minimize the distress that broke Jonah's silence with God. But the popular notion that Jonah went straight from the side of the ship and into the mouth of the fish is not supported by either the narrative as a whole or Jonah's cry for help. H. L. Ellison suggests, "[Jonah] was half drowned before he was swallowed. If he was still conscious, sheer dread would have caused him to faint—notice that there is no mention of the fish in his prayer. He can hardly have known what caused the change from wet darkness to an even greater dry darkness. When he did regain consciousness, it would have taken some time to realize that the all-enveloping darkness was not that of Sheol but of a mysterious safety."(1)
In the mysterious safety of the fish, Jonah shows us the strange world that unwound his imaginary one, and in it, the God who hears. Though the deep surrounded him and reeds were bound to his head, Jonah was heard—and his awareness of this was an essential turning point in his story. In prayer and darkness, Jonah admitted that the role of salvation is not in his hands. If only momentarily, the drowning prophet clung to a truth more hopeful than escapism and more able than idols: "Salvation belongs to the LORD" (2:9).
It is hard to believe that Jonah would have considered being swallowed alive a rescue, and yet it is precisely Jonah's considerations from which he needed to be rescued. At times, the deliverance we need is that of deliverance from ourselves. The reluctant prophet introduces us to the reality of self-deception and what is all too often our ironic refusal to face the face of God. Though our thoughts be wound in self and seaweed, and the depths of our imagined autonomy threaten to drown us, rescue is a valid hope. God is far more real than we often imagine.
---
my ideas of the realness of God being challenged over and over again in this exhaustion
there will be a day
wrote this to cccnc blog, in response to large group meeting on suffering -
i’m sorry i did not attend the previous counterparts to this large group meeting. suffering is something that has been on my heart lately, and a couple of thoughts that swim around in whirlpool of exhaustion have been: “the world is such a large sea and my boat is so small.” and “where is joy?” i literally wake up and ask, where is joy? perhaps that’s just a consequence of being a baby adult, maybe.
but i think it may be rooted in some deeper blindness and broken images we’ve created for ourselves. dreams of being great for God shattered for the moment. beliefs of who we are suddenly revealed as fantasies. putting much of ourselves in certain people we thought would always be there. even a torn idea of a good world and a garden of eden that we’ve suddenly been cast out of. and then there’s doubt in God’s ability to use me, suddenly thinking, i can’t walk on water. yes, jesus can, but can he use me to do so? the sea is so big…and the winds are so strong. and i am just a weak weak little girl.
and what do we do? sleep. sleep from sorrow, like the disciples at gethsemane. television, videogames, work – whatever postpones dealing with the issue at hand, because the body is weak even if the spirit is willing.
i won’t go into detail now regarding why this issue has become a sudden interest, and i don’t know what you’ve discussed, but for whatever reason, i just wanted to jot down some thoughts.
something that has stuck with me on the issue of suffering came from greg ganssle who gave a series on talking about jesus. in one session, (and in a very similar article) he said: “When a person asks, “What about God and evil?” I usually ask, “What kind of evil do you have in mind?” I ask this question, because I want to know what kind of question the person is asking. I want to know, especially, if he is thinking of evil in general or if he is dealing with and struggling to understand some particular experience with evil. So I ask, “What kind of evil do you have in mind?”" the responses to these two questions are drastically different. one is a philosophical question, the other is existential.
a lot of the times we’re asking for the latter. the issue then becomes whether God is able or willing to help. and in the story of the leper who comes to jesus and says, “if you are willing, you can make me clean” we find some semblance of an answer. how does Jesus respond? he says i am willing and touches the leper. the kicker is jesus doesn’t heal the man and then touch him. he touches the man while the leper was still unclean, and only then does he heal him. “He reaches across barriers, and he touches those who are untouchable. He entered our world with all its joys and sorrows and he showed us that God is real and his presence is available to all who call upon him…In fact, God entered human history to solve the problem of suffering.” We now have the means to overcome suffering around and in us. That’s huge. When I’m suffering, my biggest wonder is when will this end? Will it end? There must be the hope that it will.
“Our hearts are still broken and we still ask the question, “Why?” The Christian response is not an answer to that question, so much as an encounter with the one who enters our suffering and bears it for us and through us.”
and finally, for some reason, when i’m suffering i just want to go home. not chicago home, not even college home – but perhaps moments of rest and peace they represent. nostalgia for something hoped for. most likely, heaven. and that’s why i put up the link for the jeremy camp song. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=le-TG4sRRiQ) it’s on repeat on my itunes. perhaps our suffering now will allow us to experience heaven in that much more glory.
“They admitted that they were aliens and strangers on earth. People who say such things show that they are looking for a country of their own. If they had been thinking of the country they had left, they would have had opportunity to return. Instead they were longing for a better country – a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared a city for them.” (a holiday at the sea - reminder from josh)
God has prepared a city for us. the trouble is not that we yearn and dream too big, but rather that we dream too small. we cannot see the greatness in store for us in God’s plan.
“Meanwhile the cross comes before the
crown and tomorrow is a Monday
morning.” ( the weight of glory, cs lewis)
and everyone around us is most beloved by God.
i just pray that we do become blind to the fact that everything, all eternity, has been woven in the beautiful tapestry of God’s plan – and the suffering we experience now is part of an amazing plan beyond time- something Jesus reminded his disciples as they came back from the cross, their hopes shattered. Is there meaning to suffering? Yes, but only through God’s grace, not from any good that we can do (lucas).
and these questions and desires and cries, as lucas reminded me, are all things God wants to hear from us, as honest and raw as they and we are. and thru all these, God challenges our conceptions of how much He loves us time and time again.
if there's anything good about this teaching gig, it's that it tears me down so that i can only look up to God.
i’m sorry i did not attend the previous counterparts to this large group meeting. suffering is something that has been on my heart lately, and a couple of thoughts that swim around in whirlpool of exhaustion have been: “the world is such a large sea and my boat is so small.” and “where is joy?” i literally wake up and ask, where is joy? perhaps that’s just a consequence of being a baby adult, maybe.
but i think it may be rooted in some deeper blindness and broken images we’ve created for ourselves. dreams of being great for God shattered for the moment. beliefs of who we are suddenly revealed as fantasies. putting much of ourselves in certain people we thought would always be there. even a torn idea of a good world and a garden of eden that we’ve suddenly been cast out of. and then there’s doubt in God’s ability to use me, suddenly thinking, i can’t walk on water. yes, jesus can, but can he use me to do so? the sea is so big…and the winds are so strong. and i am just a weak weak little girl.
and what do we do? sleep. sleep from sorrow, like the disciples at gethsemane. television, videogames, work – whatever postpones dealing with the issue at hand, because the body is weak even if the spirit is willing.
i won’t go into detail now regarding why this issue has become a sudden interest, and i don’t know what you’ve discussed, but for whatever reason, i just wanted to jot down some thoughts.
something that has stuck with me on the issue of suffering came from greg ganssle who gave a series on talking about jesus. in one session, (and in a very similar article) he said: “When a person asks, “What about God and evil?” I usually ask, “What kind of evil do you have in mind?” I ask this question, because I want to know what kind of question the person is asking. I want to know, especially, if he is thinking of evil in general or if he is dealing with and struggling to understand some particular experience with evil. So I ask, “What kind of evil do you have in mind?”" the responses to these two questions are drastically different. one is a philosophical question, the other is existential.
a lot of the times we’re asking for the latter. the issue then becomes whether God is able or willing to help. and in the story of the leper who comes to jesus and says, “if you are willing, you can make me clean” we find some semblance of an answer. how does Jesus respond? he says i am willing and touches the leper. the kicker is jesus doesn’t heal the man and then touch him. he touches the man while the leper was still unclean, and only then does he heal him. “He reaches across barriers, and he touches those who are untouchable. He entered our world with all its joys and sorrows and he showed us that God is real and his presence is available to all who call upon him…In fact, God entered human history to solve the problem of suffering.” We now have the means to overcome suffering around and in us. That’s huge. When I’m suffering, my biggest wonder is when will this end? Will it end? There must be the hope that it will.
“Our hearts are still broken and we still ask the question, “Why?” The Christian response is not an answer to that question, so much as an encounter with the one who enters our suffering and bears it for us and through us.”
and finally, for some reason, when i’m suffering i just want to go home. not chicago home, not even college home – but perhaps moments of rest and peace they represent. nostalgia for something hoped for. most likely, heaven. and that’s why i put up the link for the jeremy camp song. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=le-TG4sRRiQ) it’s on repeat on my itunes. perhaps our suffering now will allow us to experience heaven in that much more glory.
“They admitted that they were aliens and strangers on earth. People who say such things show that they are looking for a country of their own. If they had been thinking of the country they had left, they would have had opportunity to return. Instead they were longing for a better country – a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared a city for them.” (a holiday at the sea - reminder from josh)
God has prepared a city for us. the trouble is not that we yearn and dream too big, but rather that we dream too small. we cannot see the greatness in store for us in God’s plan.
“Meanwhile the cross comes before the
crown and tomorrow is a Monday
morning.” ( the weight of glory, cs lewis)
and everyone around us is most beloved by God.
i just pray that we do become blind to the fact that everything, all eternity, has been woven in the beautiful tapestry of God’s plan – and the suffering we experience now is part of an amazing plan beyond time- something Jesus reminded his disciples as they came back from the cross, their hopes shattered. Is there meaning to suffering? Yes, but only through God’s grace, not from any good that we can do (lucas).
and these questions and desires and cries, as lucas reminded me, are all things God wants to hear from us, as honest and raw as they and we are. and thru all these, God challenges our conceptions of how much He loves us time and time again.
if there's anything good about this teaching gig, it's that it tears me down so that i can only look up to God.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
When we talk about complex subjects, the important thing is to remember the process is often more important than any conclusions the majority, or perhaps the loudest voice may come to - unless we're seeking to convert (which is sometimes the case) - tho even in these cases, i'd argue that we must speak to the heart, to stir up power and voice rather than to silence in victory lost. complex subjects are often the springboard into people's souls- thus we should go into these conversations with the goal to understand, to connect - if not on the level of the actual topic of matter, on the level of a common sympathy that we share a genuine desire to seek truth. In such a way, we care more about the person with whom we converse than about convincing them and the world that we're, in fact, right. Perhaps, then, speaking the truth does not correlate so well with being right.
----
"Listening means more than thinking about what you will say next"
----
"Listening means more than thinking about what you will say next"
Saturday, October 17, 2009
semicolons and commas
the problem with writing a journal entry after a long hiatus (vocab word for my students this week) is that there's an expectation (from whom i'm not sure) that it will be a compilation of reflections from the last entry until now. something of the substantial sort perhaps. it is and it is not. it is in that this moment contains all moments prior i suppose (and in some sense all following as well if you take it in a c.s. lewis style).
but nevertheless, it is here, and i have no clue what it will be.
tho the only wisdom this entry can endeavor to touch upon is that i'm so far from good (more suprise than i'd ever think) and very much in want.
of the following:
peace from God
comfort
acceptance
ability
and that there is much else i don't have mastery over. not even 80% (tfa joke, unfortunately).
myself
responsibility
love
kindness
selflessness
joy
and everything else that makes up the fruit of the spirit.
especially self-control. strange that when i feel like i have no control, self-control quickly dissolves as well. tho this is not how it's supposed to be. supposedly i'm to be able to have self-control because i have hope and find stability in something greater. perhaps it's not enough faith that i won't drown while i walk in this new storm. that's something else i just realized. jesus walks on water during a storm. so thus peter does too. maybe he would have been learned to trust jesus with the sea. maybe he was at that point where he has enough faith in the ability for God to use him during calm waters. but now there's the storm factor...(it's only a new factor because it is only now that i realize it was there, thus it's new to me...maybe this is not that that significant, but for some reason, i believe it is because a new layer of blindness has just been stripped in my memory of the story i've been obsessed with for the past few months, and will probably continue to be for a while). and he gets scared.
so the lack of self-control manifests itself in a lack of actions: i miss people but i don't contact them. people reach out to me but i don't always respond. and i'm insecure so i watch tv. when i'm supposed to be lesson planning, writing emails, being...responsible for those i've committed to, at least in my most idealistic moments, to be committed to. according to that darn personality test, i'm supposedly a crusader. but i'm also paralyzed a lot of the time in ...what is it? fear? hopelessness? stress?
i don't like teaching. there i said it. i know it's a great privilege, and some side of me likes that i'm here...but i don't like playing the bad guy. and i hate seeing my weaknesses directly affecting people i'm supposed to be serving positively -are these weaknesses (selfishness, inexperience, being unorganized, etc.) a deep injustice i'm committing against my students? ... and i haven't been able to tap into the juices of goodness and meaning creativity for those God-filled lessons i dreamed about - helping my students discover the world as it is meant to be, to understand eden - instead i'm being sucked into to the realization of my nakedness, some bitterness that even my students have noticed (miss, why are you so morbid all the time?) we're reading lord of the flies, which i'm a little nervous about because what if all i do is focus on evil and forget to keep my heart grounded upwards towards good?
is what i'm doing exuding Jesus? probably not because i miss Him. I miss Him in friends, in church, in the godpod i adored last year. and i miss Him in prayers. i miss Him in community and individually. not even "in anything" - i miss Him. yes, He's here, and yes, I have moments when i realize it's all Him - but i have yet to see myself change into a better teacher because of Him - and maybe that's it. maybe i need to see my identity fully in Him rather than as a teacher or friend, or whatever - of course that's always been the case - that's always been the answer. but i still have yet to understand a)what that means and b) what else that does not explain. so maybe that's it, but it's not all of it. maybe once i seek to just be His, everything else will reflect Him as well - in the meantime, tho, i still feel guilt for not doing what i'm supposed to be doing according to what i - and everyone else - believe i should be doing - which is committing fully to children.
do we all suffer with illusions of greatness in the future?
i can't even handle myself - at this moment i never want to handle anyone else. i have to give hugs and kisses and love without any responsibility. of course it's pretty much the opposite right now. and so at this time, it's mostly desert desert desert.
(random mind wandering mm dessert.
rita's water ice has great pumpkin-flavored italian ice. not everything is symbolic or great. some things just are.
maybe. mirages. mirages of desserts. that's pretty hellish. like those cooking shows. i'd imagine hell to be a place where they show you delicious food without giving you any.)
anticlimactic. because i'm about to end here. but maybe it should be anticlimactic because that's what i feel at the moment, even tho there have been some wonderful moments with love from friends and family and the realization that my students are wonderfully loved by God as well (though i have yet to fully grasp that in my heart so that i can realize this all the time). still at this moment, i feel like i ought to hide behind this bastion (another vocab word for the week) of hope/hopelessness? that separates saturday from sunday (the last layer of security for the weekend) and maybe myself from others.
which leads me to a recent thought that i haven't quite mapped out (maybe instead of settling with anticlimactic, i'll just push on forward blindly - which is also what i feel like i'm doin)- if the church is one body what exactly does it mean for us to have an identity? is alice 1) me, my identity that He created for me and 2) the lens thru which i'm supposed to develop an understanding of humanity/ our relationships/ and our brokeness? if i am not my own, then does that make this "me - mind, thoughts, body" somehow (not irrelevant but) no longer the center of my world, and simply a temporary being for me - a soul- to reside and grow into something greater than just itself?
ok trippy. maybe also completely wrong. in fact dino says it is wrong to say individual identities don't matter because names are important. and dying to ourselves isn't dying to our identities - but rather dying to our desires. somehow i'm not really clear about how that works anymore.
nevertheless, i only wonder about this because i am beginning to see more of the fall of humanity thru an understanding of how i act and react to new obstacles. if i ever thought myself wise and kind/good - almost beautiful because i (thought i) loved people - i am now realizing how superficial this goodness was - not to deny power to any lessons i learned and character i gaiend before, but i think the genuine good was, after a while, glossed over with a veneer of goodaliceness that covered also the bad - and i guess just recently, some deep scraping away of such has been occuring - and maybe it's a good thing - i just wish that will be the last, and that this isn't something that will happen throughout my life (this = learning a lesson and growing painfully, then peace until i realize the peace is only temporary and is covering up some more darkness that must be uprooted in a difficult process) - tho i'm almost certain it will. yes for my own good. ("my"? what's that again?) but misery! where's the joy?
of course, i know just because i can see the world's fall in my heart doesn't mean that's the only purpose for me to have an identity that is alice. maybe it's just one "perk" and one way God works.
so i know i can't separate myself off, but i know i'm not indiscriminantly mixed with other people, so and i know that i can't go the other way around which also cuts me off in a sense - and claim that my identity does not exist... but at the same time, i also hate feeling a bit diluted. teacheralice is never completely away. work never ends abruptly, tho it may roll into rest. same with this whole growth and peace business.
and knowing the importance of others makes it that much harder knowing that i don't have a stable church body here in philly because i'm too scared and/or exhausted to commit to one - in spite of knowing it's so important - is that what it feels like to decide to go into rehab?
so the line between then and now and forevermore does not quite exist, because this moment contains all moments and every decision i make is just a compilation of all other decisions...and if i say i'm connected to everyone else, am i going to enter the boundaries of a major eastern religion? but we already established that identity matters. and what about forgiveness? where's forgiveness and how do we settle that with consequences? are we the sum of our actions? i don't think so...tho now i'm getting a little more confused...
well so sleep and wake - here i go enter into sleep - sorta - i'll probably still dream about the things i fret over while i'm awake.
of course i want some things to be destroyed/purged forever. die to myself. so that i can be part of something/someone greater. so that i don't have to feel like i'm choosing this or that so and so versus so and so, but that i can be "forever friends" (a la elizabeth and sunday school) with you even if at this moment i feel disconnected from you.
And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die. (a la donne and w;t if you've ever seen/read the play)
i think i'm at some state of spiritual confusion.
but nevertheless, it is here, and i have no clue what it will be.
tho the only wisdom this entry can endeavor to touch upon is that i'm so far from good (more suprise than i'd ever think) and very much in want.
of the following:
peace from God
comfort
acceptance
ability
and that there is much else i don't have mastery over. not even 80% (tfa joke, unfortunately).
myself
responsibility
love
kindness
selflessness
joy
and everything else that makes up the fruit of the spirit.
especially self-control. strange that when i feel like i have no control, self-control quickly dissolves as well. tho this is not how it's supposed to be. supposedly i'm to be able to have self-control because i have hope and find stability in something greater. perhaps it's not enough faith that i won't drown while i walk in this new storm. that's something else i just realized. jesus walks on water during a storm. so thus peter does too. maybe he would have been learned to trust jesus with the sea. maybe he was at that point where he has enough faith in the ability for God to use him during calm waters. but now there's the storm factor...(it's only a new factor because it is only now that i realize it was there, thus it's new to me...maybe this is not that that significant, but for some reason, i believe it is because a new layer of blindness has just been stripped in my memory of the story i've been obsessed with for the past few months, and will probably continue to be for a while). and he gets scared.
so the lack of self-control manifests itself in a lack of actions: i miss people but i don't contact them. people reach out to me but i don't always respond. and i'm insecure so i watch tv. when i'm supposed to be lesson planning, writing emails, being...responsible for those i've committed to, at least in my most idealistic moments, to be committed to. according to that darn personality test, i'm supposedly a crusader. but i'm also paralyzed a lot of the time in ...what is it? fear? hopelessness? stress?
i don't like teaching. there i said it. i know it's a great privilege, and some side of me likes that i'm here...but i don't like playing the bad guy. and i hate seeing my weaknesses directly affecting people i'm supposed to be serving positively -are these weaknesses (selfishness, inexperience, being unorganized, etc.) a deep injustice i'm committing against my students? ... and i haven't been able to tap into the juices of goodness and meaning creativity for those God-filled lessons i dreamed about - helping my students discover the world as it is meant to be, to understand eden - instead i'm being sucked into to the realization of my nakedness, some bitterness that even my students have noticed (miss, why are you so morbid all the time?) we're reading lord of the flies, which i'm a little nervous about because what if all i do is focus on evil and forget to keep my heart grounded upwards towards good?
is what i'm doing exuding Jesus? probably not because i miss Him. I miss Him in friends, in church, in the godpod i adored last year. and i miss Him in prayers. i miss Him in community and individually. not even "in anything" - i miss Him. yes, He's here, and yes, I have moments when i realize it's all Him - but i have yet to see myself change into a better teacher because of Him - and maybe that's it. maybe i need to see my identity fully in Him rather than as a teacher or friend, or whatever - of course that's always been the case - that's always been the answer. but i still have yet to understand a)what that means and b) what else that does not explain. so maybe that's it, but it's not all of it. maybe once i seek to just be His, everything else will reflect Him as well - in the meantime, tho, i still feel guilt for not doing what i'm supposed to be doing according to what i - and everyone else - believe i should be doing - which is committing fully to children.
do we all suffer with illusions of greatness in the future?
i can't even handle myself - at this moment i never want to handle anyone else. i have to give hugs and kisses and love without any responsibility. of course it's pretty much the opposite right now. and so at this time, it's mostly desert desert desert.
(random mind wandering mm dessert.
rita's water ice has great pumpkin-flavored italian ice. not everything is symbolic or great. some things just are.
maybe. mirages. mirages of desserts. that's pretty hellish. like those cooking shows. i'd imagine hell to be a place where they show you delicious food without giving you any.)
anticlimactic. because i'm about to end here. but maybe it should be anticlimactic because that's what i feel at the moment, even tho there have been some wonderful moments with love from friends and family and the realization that my students are wonderfully loved by God as well (though i have yet to fully grasp that in my heart so that i can realize this all the time). still at this moment, i feel like i ought to hide behind this bastion (another vocab word for the week) of hope/hopelessness? that separates saturday from sunday (the last layer of security for the weekend) and maybe myself from others.
which leads me to a recent thought that i haven't quite mapped out (maybe instead of settling with anticlimactic, i'll just push on forward blindly - which is also what i feel like i'm doin)- if the church is one body what exactly does it mean for us to have an identity? is alice 1) me, my identity that He created for me and 2) the lens thru which i'm supposed to develop an understanding of humanity/ our relationships/ and our brokeness? if i am not my own, then does that make this "me - mind, thoughts, body" somehow (not irrelevant but) no longer the center of my world, and simply a temporary being for me - a soul- to reside and grow into something greater than just itself?
ok trippy. maybe also completely wrong. in fact dino says it is wrong to say individual identities don't matter because names are important. and dying to ourselves isn't dying to our identities - but rather dying to our desires. somehow i'm not really clear about how that works anymore.
nevertheless, i only wonder about this because i am beginning to see more of the fall of humanity thru an understanding of how i act and react to new obstacles. if i ever thought myself wise and kind/good - almost beautiful because i (thought i) loved people - i am now realizing how superficial this goodness was - not to deny power to any lessons i learned and character i gaiend before, but i think the genuine good was, after a while, glossed over with a veneer of goodaliceness that covered also the bad - and i guess just recently, some deep scraping away of such has been occuring - and maybe it's a good thing - i just wish that will be the last, and that this isn't something that will happen throughout my life (this = learning a lesson and growing painfully, then peace until i realize the peace is only temporary and is covering up some more darkness that must be uprooted in a difficult process) - tho i'm almost certain it will. yes for my own good. ("my"? what's that again?) but misery! where's the joy?
of course, i know just because i can see the world's fall in my heart doesn't mean that's the only purpose for me to have an identity that is alice. maybe it's just one "perk" and one way God works.
so i know i can't separate myself off, but i know i'm not indiscriminantly mixed with other people, so and i know that i can't go the other way around which also cuts me off in a sense - and claim that my identity does not exist... but at the same time, i also hate feeling a bit diluted. teacheralice is never completely away. work never ends abruptly, tho it may roll into rest. same with this whole growth and peace business.
and knowing the importance of others makes it that much harder knowing that i don't have a stable church body here in philly because i'm too scared and/or exhausted to commit to one - in spite of knowing it's so important - is that what it feels like to decide to go into rehab?
so the line between then and now and forevermore does not quite exist, because this moment contains all moments and every decision i make is just a compilation of all other decisions...and if i say i'm connected to everyone else, am i going to enter the boundaries of a major eastern religion? but we already established that identity matters. and what about forgiveness? where's forgiveness and how do we settle that with consequences? are we the sum of our actions? i don't think so...tho now i'm getting a little more confused...
well so sleep and wake - here i go enter into sleep - sorta - i'll probably still dream about the things i fret over while i'm awake.
of course i want some things to be destroyed/purged forever. die to myself. so that i can be part of something/someone greater. so that i don't have to feel like i'm choosing this or that so and so versus so and so, but that i can be "forever friends" (a la elizabeth and sunday school) with you even if at this moment i feel disconnected from you.
And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die. (a la donne and w;t if you've ever seen/read the play)
i think i'm at some state of spiritual confusion.
Friday, August 14, 2009
"I was amused and somewhat astonished at a critic a few years back who wrote an article analyzing Dandelion Wine plus the more realistic works of Sinclair Lewis, wondering how I could have been born and raised in Waukegan, which I renamed Green Town for my novel, and not noticed how ugly the harbor was and how depressing the coal docks and railyards down below the town. But, of course, I had noticed them and, genetic enchanter that I was, was fascinated by their beauty. Trains and boxcar and the smell of coal and fire are not ugly to children. Ugliness is a concept that we happen on later and come self-conscious about. Counting boxcars is a prime activity of boys. Their elders fret and fum and jeer at the train that holds them up, but boys happily ocunt and cry the names of the cars as they pass from far places." - Ray Bradbury
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