Friday, May 30, 2008

I Am Going to Miss My Friends

I'm going to miss my friends at camp so much this summer. I am going to miss staff meetings and yelling at people to be quite because my sister is talking.

I am going to miss Joe Fahlman talking too loud about the Bible and all-staff singing times in the dark.

I am going to miss silent retreats with my friend Ben.

I am going to miss short, knowing conversations with Blueberry. I am going to miss the resounding chorus of praise my body sends up at night when I finally get to go to sleep. I am going to miss investing in the other staff members, especially the new ones (helping make them feel welcomed and loved).

I am going to miss running my heart out during darebase and the great tennis ball caper.

I am going to miss all the people you meet just by walking from one place to the other. Such beautiful, wonderful people.

I will miss my sister, and I will miss my brother.

Thursday, May 29, 2008

And to Mr. Chesterton, a very Happy Birthday

Jeffrey Overstreet is noting the birthday of one of my favorite people (follow the link! there are great quotes!). G. K. Chesteron was a man who was alive and always supremely ecstatic to be so. I'm grateful to him for (among many, many other things) the joy and graditude he showed and lived out in his life and in his writings.

Happy Birthday, G. K. I thank God for you.

"It is possible that God says every morning, 'Do it again' to the sun; and every evening, 'Do it again' to the moon. It may not be automatic necessity that makes all daisies alike; it may be that God makes every daisy separately, but has never got tired of making them."

— G. K. Chesterton

In Philip Yancey's Soul Survivor there is a chapter on G. K. Chesterton as is the case as well with Frederick Buechner's Speak What We Feel. Please read!

Wednesday, May 28, 2008

Birds of Paradise OR What Men Go Through

More Planet Earth fun (I found this at the same time as the last one; I just didn't want to bombard you with too many).

Let no one make the claim that being a man is easy.

Monday, May 26, 2008

The Road

This movie, just got done filming in Portland (just down the road from me). About a year or so ago Morgan Freeman was down the street making a film and now this. Our local seminary has become something of a hub for Hollywood traffic, it would seem. Cormac McCarthy is very dark (from what I hear), so I might not end up seeing it, but I enjoyed reading the article none-the-less. I am consistently impressed by Viggo Mortensen's attitude and comments toward other people (from reading this and watching the behind the scenes documentaries for The Lord of the Rings). He seems almost Christ-like to me, though I know he's not a Christian. I also liked reading about the little boy who will be playing Viggo's son. It looks like the movie is going to look nice too (nice in a post-apocalyptic sort of way).

Has anyone seen No Country for Old Men (the same author of The Road)? Is it worth wading through the darkness? I would love to see the good craftsmanship that (I hear) is there (plus I want to see more Coen Brother's movies and get a better feel for them; this is in part because I feel the need to learn better the language of film and also just because I'd like to see more well-made films); I'm just not sure if it's worth it. Oh well, we'll see.

Oh, I did not mention that I would like to read the book The Road. But I do.

For some reason the previous sentence made me think of Housekeeping, which I am reading right now, by Marilynne Robinson. I should tell you that it is lovely. Her words strung together are so lovely. If, while I am reading it next time, I come upon such a well-strung sentence, I will be sure to put it up on this blog, so that you can see what I mean. Her style is also crisp and clean and fits the ice and snow of the landscape she writes about here.

Oh, and if you haven't read Marilynne Robinson's Gilead, you are missing out on a wonderful experience, on much sunlit beauty. Thank you, Father for that book.

Remember (Grateful Tuesdays #25)

Dear Heavenly Father,

Our Father in Heaven. Our Father. The Father of us, your bride. Father, down-on-your-knees, giving horsey-back rides, intimately involved with us, Immanuel. You love me, Father. You love me, God. And I thank you for that.

You love me through all of who I am. And, maybe more to the point, the all-that-I-am-not that clutters things up. To be honest, God, I don't have a really firm grasp on who I am these days. I'd like to see myself a little clearer, bring myself into sharp focus.

Or, much more better (this being said in a rough, British accent), I would love to know that you see me. That's why I'm doing all this you know. All this living and stuff. I think. I hope. Like I said, I'm loosing track of myself a little these days.

But no matter, let us take some time to redirect that heart of ours.

Father, Daddy, thank you for... little things. For details, Father. Do you care about these things? I have to believe that you do. After all, you are the same God who created the sub-atomic particle, right? And the little burst of emotion that comes on us in moments. Like a wave at an airport or seeing how a gift is wrapped.

So I have to believe that you do. (I will also share with you that I think I would go crazy if I feel that these little things could not be honored, if you and us all had better things to do with our time.)

Mmm. But don't you make a fantastic big picture as well? How beautiful your stars are, Father. I do love them so. (I'm tempted to ask that you allow me to see them better somehow, but I will instead turn my thoughts to how you have shown your love to me on nights where they all blaze out in front of me! Where it feels that the weight of their glory, their song could crush me! could pull you in.) What grace you show me Father, with your love song, with this planet, with human interaction, with a well-crafted television show or a... scent in the air and the feel of it all. You love me, God. That's painted everywhere, plain to see.

Ah, but am I going numb? This would be sad to see, wouldn't it, God? Sad for my ears to go deaf to your music or to (God, please keep!) attribute these notes to someone else. Or me. Or no one. (God keep me.)

But these kinds of things don't happen. I mean that, my worst fears don't come true. They just don't. You steer and craft and protect and you guide. I give myself to you, and know that you're going to use me to your best. And you know that's what I want. You are my Father, and you never tire of Fathering me, never fail. Always do, guide and helm. That's you, God. That's what you're like. You love me deeply.

So I need Fathering in many more areas. I do I do. But you'll do this; thank you, God.

Thank you for Bruce Springsteen, Father. Thank you for his passion. Thank you that yours beats his by a long stretch.

Thank you for my circular (play) glasses. Thank you that they look so funny and help me not to take myself as seriously.

Oh! Thank you for Leif Enger, Father! And his so well-constructed sentences.

Ooh, and for Derek Webb, Father, thank you for him. He's got some issues, doesn't he, Father? Some anger, I think? But I think I hear so much of the Gospel in his music. You know, of restoration and that things need restoring in the first place. Thank you for people who mourn the things that are not right and lead me to the same. Thank you for the Queen of Arts and England and how I feel she mourns for things (fallen birds, dying things, wrong relationships) that are not right. That she feels deeply.

I thank you, God, in general for people who feel deeply. May I feel deeply; may I smell deeply and hear deeply and see truly. And may I know you.

Thank you for loving me. And holding me (I know you have; you love me more deeply than anyone ever has or will).

In Jesus' Name,


Wednesday, May 21, 2008

My great-grandfather was a very cool man...

I was going through some photos recently and thought I'd share this one with you, so you could see some of the people that contributed to my gene pool. Great Papa was very cool.