Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Quote of the day
From Governor Schwarzenegger: "I think that what we need is the weather- to change. We need rain, we need the wind to stop, and we need it to get wet out there. That's what we need right now." To really get the full comedic force of this quote, go to npr.org, click on "governor schwarzenegger" and hear the accented version. Quick, what are you waiting for? Do it now!
Monday, October 22, 2007
san diego is burning?
This past weekend I escaped to San Diego with two girlfriends. We had a picnic and watched seals and beautiful people for hours at La Jolla, spent an hour trying to find parking in the Gaslamp District and then wore out feet out walking blocks and blocks in heels, sipped wine in the sun in Temecula overlooking a vineyard while the wind threatened to snatch anything not nailed down, marveled at IKEA and signs advertising an "electric car charging station," talked about men. We had a good time, even if the first place we chose to go dancing turned out to be so sketchy we left without going in, and the second one didn't actually play salsa music, and there were those inevitable tense direction-less exchanges that happen when no one really knows where they're going in a big city.
That last part took me back to college road trips, where June and/or Rachael and I explored Alabama, New Orleans, Arizona, San Francisco, strong personalities clashing into occasional flares of rage, quickly forgiven because where can you find better friends than this? Is there anyone you'd rather see the Grand Canyon or the Maple Leaf or the redwoods with, or talk about God at 11pm on a dark highway, or get a speeding ticket with? Of course not. And because we deeply and unconsciously knew that true relationships do not form or survive without confronting conflict.
Well, that's a tangent. June and Rachael, if you're reading this, you'll always be my best friends even if June never comes back from China and Rachael stays in Alabama forever. You know that.
On the way back to Yuma through the undescribable boulder-strewn mountains that I will never in a million years get used to, the crazy fall winds named "Santa Anas" picked up, threatening to fling the little rental Nissan off into the vast valleys on either side of the road. Luckily the wind didn't continue into the desert, because otherwise we would have been caught in a vicious sandstorm like the one that shut down the highway two weeks ago. This morning I read that San Diego county- actually some of the suburbs, not the city itself- is on fire, wildfires popping up all over, fed by the gusting winds and a drought. We did pass through some smoke on Sunday as we left Temecula, but we had no idea of the extent of the fires that were to come. People are losing their homes and the fire department just can't contain all the burning. That makes me sad, because Southern California is as gloriously beautiful as it is unaffordable, the red tile roofed houses on mountains spotted with white rocky outcroppings and pencil-thin trees, the huge waves, the unnervingly shiny-new and clean cities. I would say it's God's country, except that I'm pretty sure that his Son and 90% of the world's population couldn't afford to live there. So I'll just say it's gloriously beautiful and leave it at that. =)
That last part took me back to college road trips, where June and/or Rachael and I explored Alabama, New Orleans, Arizona, San Francisco, strong personalities clashing into occasional flares of rage, quickly forgiven because where can you find better friends than this? Is there anyone you'd rather see the Grand Canyon or the Maple Leaf or the redwoods with, or talk about God at 11pm on a dark highway, or get a speeding ticket with? Of course not. And because we deeply and unconsciously knew that true relationships do not form or survive without confronting conflict.
Well, that's a tangent. June and Rachael, if you're reading this, you'll always be my best friends even if June never comes back from China and Rachael stays in Alabama forever. You know that.
On the way back to Yuma through the undescribable boulder-strewn mountains that I will never in a million years get used to, the crazy fall winds named "Santa Anas" picked up, threatening to fling the little rental Nissan off into the vast valleys on either side of the road. Luckily the wind didn't continue into the desert, because otherwise we would have been caught in a vicious sandstorm like the one that shut down the highway two weeks ago. This morning I read that San Diego county- actually some of the suburbs, not the city itself- is on fire, wildfires popping up all over, fed by the gusting winds and a drought. We did pass through some smoke on Sunday as we left Temecula, but we had no idea of the extent of the fires that were to come. People are losing their homes and the fire department just can't contain all the burning. That makes me sad, because Southern California is as gloriously beautiful as it is unaffordable, the red tile roofed houses on mountains spotted with white rocky outcroppings and pencil-thin trees, the huge waves, the unnervingly shiny-new and clean cities. I would say it's God's country, except that I'm pretty sure that his Son and 90% of the world's population couldn't afford to live there. So I'll just say it's gloriously beautiful and leave it at that. =)
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
musings on God's will
For starters, I just saw an article on Yahoo news about how the ACLU helped a Christian graduate of West Point gain conscientious objector status and be released from the military. The man said his Christian beliefs would not allow him to kill another human being, and he now wants to enter seminary. Interesting, huh? Also, note to Religious Right: the ACLU does actually come out on the side of Christians sometimes, so I guess they are not ALL God-hating atheists dragging our country into the gutter with the help of Hillary Clinton. whew.
In Yuma-land, not so much to report. I am increasingly bored with my job and unsatisfied with my life here but feel a little trapped for now. Turns out those misgivings I had about taking this job in the first place were right, but in my May poverty-stricken panic and blind groping for direction I stuffed them down and dove in.
Did I miss God's will? If I did, I have to place part of the blame squarely on His huge shoulders, because he was not altogether forthcoming with his directions. Why is that? Why are we expected to obey this elusive will if the Will-giver repeatedly hides the ball? So now am I supposed to say that He has a purpose for my frustrating and often lonely months here? Isn't that really just saying I should make the most out of anything which comes along, which is true independently of Him? I do not have answers and probably spewing my questions out into the void of cyberspace is not the best way to deal with them. I guess I am hoping that at some point in the future this will all make sense, and then I can say: look, go back and see how bad it was and it was all worth it, see? But right now I am finding it hard to hide my scorn for that smug fulfilled future version of me.
Rather than say, God has a specific plan for my life, and He'll lead me to each step, doesn't it fit more with reality to say that He gives us general principles of how life is best led, of how to treat others and live with integrity and find true meaning, and then helps us find peace and satisfaction and even joy in the situations we get ourselves into through the application (or mis-application) of those principles? Because if He had a clear plan that he wanted us to follow, the guidance would have to be a lot more concrete. Otherwise God is just petty and a bit capricious, and I am not so doubtful of his character to believe that is true.
My little brother has been sending me letters every week, faithfully laboring over penciled sentences on the backs of postcards. But for weeks I haven't received any, and I just realized why- his earnest efforts have been going undelivered. A missed "A" in the address made all the difference. It breaks my heart to think of all his work lost, swallowed in the depths of the US Postal Service.
I feel bad, because Phillip's letters were lost. But I don't feel responsible- I gave him the right address and somehow in the transition from Dad's email to Mom's notes to Phillip's letter that "A" was forgotten. But what if I had merely told Phillip: I live somewhere in Yuma Arizona, I'm not going to tell you exactly, you try to figure it out. Then of course I would feel bad for the loss of the letters, because it was my own fault that Phillip wasn't able to guess my address! How could he?
So that's why I don't think that God's plan is all that specific. Because otherwise, him expecting me to follow it, given his complete lack of direction to me, would be just as absurd as me expecting Phillip to get my address right when I didn't tell it to him. So do I believe that God sent me specifically to Yuma where he knew I would be frustrated and lonely? No, because I believe that he loves me, and don't even tell me it's because he wanted to teach me humility because believe me, I am well aware of my faults. Do I believe that He had some other specific place I was supposed to go instead that I missed the memo on? No, I can't. Rather, God wants me to use my skills to make the world a better place, to show his love and justice and peace to others. Whether I do that in Shanghai China or Mobile Alabama is more a matter of where my God-given desires and talents and the circumstances that come along lead me. He'll bless my efforts to find ways and places to serve him, and he'll usually comfort me when things go wrong. But I'm done with expecting him to give me geographic directions.
In Yuma-land, not so much to report. I am increasingly bored with my job and unsatisfied with my life here but feel a little trapped for now. Turns out those misgivings I had about taking this job in the first place were right, but in my May poverty-stricken panic and blind groping for direction I stuffed them down and dove in.
Did I miss God's will? If I did, I have to place part of the blame squarely on His huge shoulders, because he was not altogether forthcoming with his directions. Why is that? Why are we expected to obey this elusive will if the Will-giver repeatedly hides the ball? So now am I supposed to say that He has a purpose for my frustrating and often lonely months here? Isn't that really just saying I should make the most out of anything which comes along, which is true independently of Him? I do not have answers and probably spewing my questions out into the void of cyberspace is not the best way to deal with them. I guess I am hoping that at some point in the future this will all make sense, and then I can say: look, go back and see how bad it was and it was all worth it, see? But right now I am finding it hard to hide my scorn for that smug fulfilled future version of me.
Rather than say, God has a specific plan for my life, and He'll lead me to each step, doesn't it fit more with reality to say that He gives us general principles of how life is best led, of how to treat others and live with integrity and find true meaning, and then helps us find peace and satisfaction and even joy in the situations we get ourselves into through the application (or mis-application) of those principles? Because if He had a clear plan that he wanted us to follow, the guidance would have to be a lot more concrete. Otherwise God is just petty and a bit capricious, and I am not so doubtful of his character to believe that is true.
My little brother has been sending me letters every week, faithfully laboring over penciled sentences on the backs of postcards. But for weeks I haven't received any, and I just realized why- his earnest efforts have been going undelivered. A missed "A" in the address made all the difference. It breaks my heart to think of all his work lost, swallowed in the depths of the US Postal Service.
I feel bad, because Phillip's letters were lost. But I don't feel responsible- I gave him the right address and somehow in the transition from Dad's email to Mom's notes to Phillip's letter that "A" was forgotten. But what if I had merely told Phillip: I live somewhere in Yuma Arizona, I'm not going to tell you exactly, you try to figure it out. Then of course I would feel bad for the loss of the letters, because it was my own fault that Phillip wasn't able to guess my address! How could he?
So that's why I don't think that God's plan is all that specific. Because otherwise, him expecting me to follow it, given his complete lack of direction to me, would be just as absurd as me expecting Phillip to get my address right when I didn't tell it to him. So do I believe that God sent me specifically to Yuma where he knew I would be frustrated and lonely? No, because I believe that he loves me, and don't even tell me it's because he wanted to teach me humility because believe me, I am well aware of my faults. Do I believe that He had some other specific place I was supposed to go instead that I missed the memo on? No, I can't. Rather, God wants me to use my skills to make the world a better place, to show his love and justice and peace to others. Whether I do that in Shanghai China or Mobile Alabama is more a matter of where my God-given desires and talents and the circumstances that come along lead me. He'll bless my efforts to find ways and places to serve him, and he'll usually comfort me when things go wrong. But I'm done with expecting him to give me geographic directions.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Purgatory or something like it
Sometimes I feel like I spend most of my life waiting around for something to happen. I feel that way now more than ever. I just found out on Friday that I passed the Arizona bar exam. Relief! Elation! No more waiting around in this quasi-lawyer state! Except... for that nice little letter I got today: congrats, you've passed the bar exam, but we don't have your character report completed yet. In other words, the waiting is not over yet.
But will it ever be? I will be a lawyer soon- hopefully very soon- but then there will be more waiting. Because let's face it- I'm not all that happy in Yuma, and I don't plan to stay here too long. So my life here is also a waiting time- waiting for when I've put in enough time that I can not feel too guilty about leaving for the life I really want.
And then- won't I be waiting for something else? Like finding that person I want to spend the rest of my life with- can I ever really be settled, sure of where I am until that important part of my life falls into place?
I guess my point is, all of life is purgatory if you make it that way. So I should be trying to get out of the middle-land, not wallowing in it. But to be honest, it is hard right now. Happiness is so elusive, and the waiting is so tangible.
But will it ever be? I will be a lawyer soon- hopefully very soon- but then there will be more waiting. Because let's face it- I'm not all that happy in Yuma, and I don't plan to stay here too long. So my life here is also a waiting time- waiting for when I've put in enough time that I can not feel too guilty about leaving for the life I really want.
And then- won't I be waiting for something else? Like finding that person I want to spend the rest of my life with- can I ever really be settled, sure of where I am until that important part of my life falls into place?
I guess my point is, all of life is purgatory if you make it that way. So I should be trying to get out of the middle-land, not wallowing in it. But to be honest, it is hard right now. Happiness is so elusive, and the waiting is so tangible.
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