Sunday, February 03, 2008
GOT OUR SEA LEGS
Philip and I just got back from a quickie trip we took to sail on a segment of the maiden world cruise of the Queen Victoria -- one of the perks of my job. :) Check out pics here.
Thursday, December 20, 2007
THE CHRISTMAS STORY
OK, a couple things before I start: My husband is so cute and smart. I loved that post about Google Maps. Also, I love Christmas. I was feeling pretty stressed and insecure when I wrote that last post of mine, but there's no changing the fact that I love Christmas desperately.
Glad that's said. Now, for the real post...
Which is related to loving Christmas. I got an email today with some Scripture in it. I don't read the Bible much, honestly. I don't know if it's the language or the confusing parts or the layers upon layers of context that escape me or the fact that it's not chronological which is kind of annoying, but I don't. But there is one story that I love and never get tired of, and it hits me square in the gut every time - the Christmas story.
My favorite thing about it is what it tells us about God. He sees that there is a distance between him and people, a disconnect. People are struggling with all sorts of problems, both caused by their own selfishness and also caused by circumstances out of their control. Bottom line: The world is broken. So he decides to leave heaven or the spiritual realm or wherever it is that God lives, and come here to earth to intervene and bring hope and help and a life-giving way of life, and to let people know once and for all that they are OK with him.
So the first thing that is so mind-blowing is that God doesn't stay out there somewhere in the cosmos - he comes here. Emmanuel - "God with us."
Then, he comes in the most underwhelming way possible. He chooses to come as a helpless, fussy baby, born to a poor woman who isn't even married yet, who's on the road, who can't even find a warm bed. She and her fiance end up in a barn, which smells like animal excrement and is cold and dirty. Their families and friends are far away; they're all alone. There are no midwives or doctors around to help them. She gives birth in this place, which is a messy, dangerous, painful process, and there is no bath to wash her or the child, and there is no cushioned cradle in which to lay him or fresh baby clothes to dress him in. So they find some scraps to wrap him in, and then she places him in the feed trough.
Seriously!
I've got to tell you, I wrestle with this whole Christianity thing all the time. The church sometimes drives me nuts. The Christian culture and assumptions often make me feel uncomfortable. Etc. But Jesus breaks my heart in half.
People were expecting a dashing warrior king to come and save them from the oppressive Roman empire with a powerful sword. The wise men, searching for Jesus, went straight to the reigning Jewish king, assuming that's where the Messiah would be. Nope. He's in a stinky, dark cave with some cows and donkeys. And who does God announce this incredible news to - that he's here, among us? Shepherds. Working men with little status or money. And who does he reveal his guiding star to? Wealthy foreign astrologists. It's so bizarre, so upside-down, but it somehow makes sense.
God's actions indicate that he came for the broken, the lonely - the average, everyday person just trying to get by, and he came for the seekers - those who know there is more to find and it's worth searching for. God's choices suggest that he likes surprises, he's impossibly humble, and his priorities are backwards - in a good way. He doesn't care about appearances, and he sometimes chooses to work through difficult situations so that he will be enough. And the nativity shows that he trusts us, people, to participate in the story he's writing.
Glad that's said. Now, for the real post...
Which is related to loving Christmas. I got an email today with some Scripture in it. I don't read the Bible much, honestly. I don't know if it's the language or the confusing parts or the layers upon layers of context that escape me or the fact that it's not chronological which is kind of annoying, but I don't. But there is one story that I love and never get tired of, and it hits me square in the gut every time - the Christmas story.
My favorite thing about it is what it tells us about God. He sees that there is a distance between him and people, a disconnect. People are struggling with all sorts of problems, both caused by their own selfishness and also caused by circumstances out of their control. Bottom line: The world is broken. So he decides to leave heaven or the spiritual realm or wherever it is that God lives, and come here to earth to intervene and bring hope and help and a life-giving way of life, and to let people know once and for all that they are OK with him.
So the first thing that is so mind-blowing is that God doesn't stay out there somewhere in the cosmos - he comes here. Emmanuel - "God with us."
Then, he comes in the most underwhelming way possible. He chooses to come as a helpless, fussy baby, born to a poor woman who isn't even married yet, who's on the road, who can't even find a warm bed. She and her fiance end up in a barn, which smells like animal excrement and is cold and dirty. Their families and friends are far away; they're all alone. There are no midwives or doctors around to help them. She gives birth in this place, which is a messy, dangerous, painful process, and there is no bath to wash her or the child, and there is no cushioned cradle in which to lay him or fresh baby clothes to dress him in. So they find some scraps to wrap him in, and then she places him in the feed trough.
Seriously!
I've got to tell you, I wrestle with this whole Christianity thing all the time. The church sometimes drives me nuts. The Christian culture and assumptions often make me feel uncomfortable. Etc. But Jesus breaks my heart in half.
People were expecting a dashing warrior king to come and save them from the oppressive Roman empire with a powerful sword. The wise men, searching for Jesus, went straight to the reigning Jewish king, assuming that's where the Messiah would be. Nope. He's in a stinky, dark cave with some cows and donkeys. And who does God announce this incredible news to - that he's here, among us? Shepherds. Working men with little status or money. And who does he reveal his guiding star to? Wealthy foreign astrologists. It's so bizarre, so upside-down, but it somehow makes sense.
God's actions indicate that he came for the broken, the lonely - the average, everyday person just trying to get by, and he came for the seekers - those who know there is more to find and it's worth searching for. God's choices suggest that he likes surprises, he's impossibly humble, and his priorities are backwards - in a good way. He doesn't care about appearances, and he sometimes chooses to work through difficult situations so that he will be enough. And the nativity shows that he trusts us, people, to participate in the story he's writing.
TRUE DAT, DOUBLE TRUE
I've been bored at work this week. Not bored, as in I have nothing to do, but bored as in I would rather be anywhere else. Christmas-break-itis? Probably.
In the wake of my boredom, I started playing around with customized Google Maps. Samberg was right, Google Maps are the best. I've come up with my first cut at a hiking loop that I really enjoy up in the southwest Smokey Mountains. The high point of the trip is sitting on top of Gregory Bald and being able to see for miles around. The loop is about ~20 miles and can easily be done in two nights. Google Maps allowed me to put custom markers on the map (with details on each), but unfortunately, I wasn't able to trace the exact trail. You probably can and I just haven't figured it out. So, for your enjoyment:
In the wake of my boredom, I started playing around with customized Google Maps. Samberg was right, Google Maps are the best. I've come up with my first cut at a hiking loop that I really enjoy up in the southwest Smokey Mountains. The high point of the trip is sitting on top of Gregory Bald and being able to see for miles around. The loop is about ~20 miles and can easily be done in two nights. Google Maps allowed me to put custom markers on the map (with details on each), but unfortunately, I wasn't able to trace the exact trail. You probably can and I just haven't figured it out. So, for your enjoyment:
Friday, December 14, 2007
I BLAME MARTHA. AND MYSELF.
I am having a problem with something. This is a problem I experience all throughout the year, but Christmastime seems to exaggerate it. I'm not sure how to sum it up. It's something like: Secretly-on-the-inside-I-want-to-be-Martha-Stewart-but-I'm-not-very-
good-at-it-and-I-think-it-would-be-fun-if-I-was-but-instead-I'm-
frustrated-because-I'm-not.
I expressed this problem out loud to a friend today, whom I love dearly and whose honesty I treasure, but her response was that I was making her skin crawl. I tried taking the issue to another brutally honest friend, who said I was being whiny and even mimicked me mockingly. So. I am not up for negative responses at the moment. If you can't relate or think I'm ridiculous, etc., please keep that opinion to yourself.
To expand on my problem, I'll offer some examples. In my head, I think the idea of throwing parties, having people over for dinner, and the like, sounds fun and hospitable and relationship-building. At Christmas, add to that things like sending Christmas cards, putting up extra decorations inside and out, attending festive activities, baking cookies and sharing them with others, buying thoughtful gifts, etc. All pleasant, pretty, interpersonal.
But then my selfish, obsessive nature takes over and turns it all into two things: 1) a way to assert how together and stylish and well-rounded and successful I am, and 2) a self-defeating discovery that I am not together and I do not have enough fashion sense or money to be all that stylish and I fail at many things all the time -- especially those things I put pressure on myself to do because they seem so good and feminine and fun -- and that other people, who don't seem to be trying at all and don't seem to wrestle with these demons, are really good at succeeding in these areas.
I want to enjoy all that the Christmas season has to offer. I want to make the most of every holiday. I want to have a comfortable, attractive home and welcome people into it. I want to keep loved ones updated on our life with the hope that they will keep me updated on theirs. I don't want to be smug or competitive or self-centered or jealous or discontent or insincere...
Philip always tells me I think too hard about things. That may be true. But I don't know how to turn my mind off. My friend says I should just not be competitive. Just stop it. Stop comparing. Stop piling expectations on myself and everyone and everything around me. Just don't send out a Christmas letter because people who read it are bound to make fun of it and be annoyed by it and poke holes in it, no matter how good my intentions may have been, and they probably weren't that pure anyway, and it'll be one less thing to think about during a crazy time of year. Well, your letter is on the way this year, people, for better or for worse.
I don't know what to do about these feelings, and throwing it out into cyberspace seemed a little safer than talking to a human being about it, as I was quickly invalidated when I tried to do that. (And my obsessive, over-analytical mind thinks, "Was that what I needed? A kick in the pants? Because maybe that was a message from God to just Get Over Myself. But I still feel bad, and actually a little worse than before I said anything. And all I want is to feel some peace.")
The end.
P.S. I really don't have anything against Martha Stewart. I think she genuinely enjoys renovating old houses and coming up with creative interior-design ideas and crafts and gardening and so forth. She just found a way to make a profit off of what she already loves doing, so good for her. She probably didn't set out to make me and whoever else feel insecure. It's OK, Martha, I'm not mad.
good-at-it-and-I-think-it-would-be-fun-if-I-was-but-instead-I'm-
frustrated-because-I'm-not.
I expressed this problem out loud to a friend today, whom I love dearly and whose honesty I treasure, but her response was that I was making her skin crawl. I tried taking the issue to another brutally honest friend, who said I was being whiny and even mimicked me mockingly. So. I am not up for negative responses at the moment. If you can't relate or think I'm ridiculous, etc., please keep that opinion to yourself.
To expand on my problem, I'll offer some examples. In my head, I think the idea of throwing parties, having people over for dinner, and the like, sounds fun and hospitable and relationship-building. At Christmas, add to that things like sending Christmas cards, putting up extra decorations inside and out, attending festive activities, baking cookies and sharing them with others, buying thoughtful gifts, etc. All pleasant, pretty, interpersonal.
But then my selfish, obsessive nature takes over and turns it all into two things: 1) a way to assert how together and stylish and well-rounded and successful I am, and 2) a self-defeating discovery that I am not together and I do not have enough fashion sense or money to be all that stylish and I fail at many things all the time -- especially those things I put pressure on myself to do because they seem so good and feminine and fun -- and that other people, who don't seem to be trying at all and don't seem to wrestle with these demons, are really good at succeeding in these areas.
I want to enjoy all that the Christmas season has to offer. I want to make the most of every holiday. I want to have a comfortable, attractive home and welcome people into it. I want to keep loved ones updated on our life with the hope that they will keep me updated on theirs. I don't want to be smug or competitive or self-centered or jealous or discontent or insincere...
Philip always tells me I think too hard about things. That may be true. But I don't know how to turn my mind off. My friend says I should just not be competitive. Just stop it. Stop comparing. Stop piling expectations on myself and everyone and everything around me. Just don't send out a Christmas letter because people who read it are bound to make fun of it and be annoyed by it and poke holes in it, no matter how good my intentions may have been, and they probably weren't that pure anyway, and it'll be one less thing to think about during a crazy time of year. Well, your letter is on the way this year, people, for better or for worse.
I don't know what to do about these feelings, and throwing it out into cyberspace seemed a little safer than talking to a human being about it, as I was quickly invalidated when I tried to do that. (And my obsessive, over-analytical mind thinks, "Was that what I needed? A kick in the pants? Because maybe that was a message from God to just Get Over Myself. But I still feel bad, and actually a little worse than before I said anything. And all I want is to feel some peace.")
The end.
P.S. I really don't have anything against Martha Stewart. I think she genuinely enjoys renovating old houses and coming up with creative interior-design ideas and crafts and gardening and so forth. She just found a way to make a profit off of what she already loves doing, so good for her. She probably didn't set out to make me and whoever else feel insecure. It's OK, Martha, I'm not mad.
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