A D D
I am probably not the first pastor to say this, nor will I be the last. But truth be told, I’m not really big on giving sermons. And actually, I’m not big on public speaking at all. Part of it of course, is the whole standing up in the front thing. But the more I do this, the more I realize that it could be my ever shortening attention span. This may also be why Facebook works for me. Blogging is more like a task. Here I am, beginning of a (Chinese) New Year, and ready to get rolling on the blog again. But it takes ideas, time, and ugh, well developed thoughts. Thoughts that somehow need to fall into some sort of organization. So why don’t I just turn to Twitter? The antiblog really. Forty keystrokes kills it. I dunno. Feels almost like an IQ test to me. Or perhaps it is the real outlet for people short on thought long on time. It takes time as well, but I feel I have more to say. I would want to get my time’s worth and get the most meaning out of my spoonful of alphabet soup. So I’ve come full circle and am somewhat caught within the Facebook confines. A little room to go either way.
Bad writing.
Being a writer is a pretty tough act. For one thing, you actually have to write. But then again, do you? I consider myself a writer, but it’s been a while since I’ve written anything. So is writing what I do or who I am? If I don’t write, am I still a writer? If a tree falls in the forest….
Double Whammy
What I’m talking about
This whole issue intrigues me. In part because I also take to the blogosphere to unleash my thoughts. In part because of the very very inneresting reaction that it’s gotten. The good news is that this lady had 9 followers on her blog. Herself, her husband, and 7 other friends. Last I checked, she had 504
Are her comments inappropriate? I think I had a High School teacher, back when blogs were yet to be birthed, that just told us these things. Is it that the students themselves are unable to take such criticism? Is it that we, as a nation of insecure parents are perhaps the ones that are unable to take the criticism?
Hero or Victim? Saint or Sinner?
you decide.
Tigers v. Tiaras
Every now and then I think that maybe TV is not quite as bad as I think it is, and every now and then I am right. Those are the nights when I stay up watching Letterman while doing laundry. And then there is the every so often curiosity that demands to know what everyone else is talking about ventures into the reality world. All I can say is being proven wrong was never quite so traumatic as it is here and now in our youtube fed haze. So I found myself wondering what Toddlers and Tiaras was all about. Goodness!!! Um. OK. First off. Have you noticed that all these little girls have names like McKenzie, Jordyn, Aubrey, Cassidy and the like? None of them are named Alice or Mary. Whats up with that. Is there something wrong with Alice or Mary? Or Jane? We don’t come across many Janes these days. Now that would be a truly unique name. And then the parental interviews… YIKES
Is it just me? Is it not wrong?
But then it struck me. Despite the whole tiger mom controversy, we are all in our own ways tiger moms are we not? We all have our goals that we have set out for our kids. It could be success, it could be self esteem, it can even be beauty pageant worthy. For the most part, we are all building a future for our kids.
I’m not sure where I’m going with this. The only thing I can say with any surety all is …. Lord save me from the tiaras!
Confidently Speaking.
The other day a friend was telling me about how even parenting has evolved and progressed since the days when we were kids. I suppose this implication here is that parents today are better than our parents were. I dunno. I’m not yet qualified to make a statement on my parents’ parenting skills, but I think I turned out ok no? The discussion led us down the road of what exactly is it that has evolved and what do we consider progress? The answer seemed to be that parents now understand to esteem the self esteem of our children, and the significance of building confidence in the individual. And in fact, I see that all around me now, parents, educators, friends, we try our best to help our kids feel good about themselves. We try to let them know that they are totally OK so that they can develop that sense of confidence that seems so crucial to success these days.
I’m no exception, I too find that I hope for my kids to be confident. However, I often wonder what it is that they are confident about. What do they place their confidence in and what do they base it upon? Do they have an eternal confidence or one that is easily shaken by skinny jeans or bell bottoms?
How do we establish spiritual confidence in our kids? What is that you do to help your kids establish eternal confidence?
The Librarian
I have a confession. Despite being an English major, I never even once during the whole course of my college career checked out a book from the library. I’m not even sure how that would be done. And now that I come to think of it, I don’t think I ever wrote a research paper. Which is interesting because I clearly remember the emphasis that was given to art of annotation and such while in High School. The whole idea being punctuated by the thought that English Professors in college would never accept poorly annotated documents. I’m not sure how many annotations I used in college. I’m sure at least a few for my thesis, but really, it wasn’t a big deal. But I digress. I’m talking about libraries today. I think I might have gone into Moffitt once maybe twice. Well, maybe there was a third time. This is not to say that I did not study in libraries. I did. My libraries of choice were Doe and Bechtel. Bechtel because it was the closest and had heat, and Doe because, well, who can resist Doe? High lofty ceilings, the stuff that dreams are made of and all. Very Paper Chasey.
This is Doe. The Doe that I remember.
I want you take special note of the books that line the wall.
I do like libraries. As a matter of fact I love libraries. Books for free! Who can beat that? It’s a wonderful idea. And one that I hope has been succesfully passed on to my kids. Which reminds me, I really need to find Zoe’s overdue library book. But anyways. The other day I was on the SCU campus and I happened to walk past the library. I would not have recognized it as such.
yes. This. Is. The. Library. I almost had a heart attack. No kidding. Rows upon rows of metal boxes. I was looking in through plate glass windows. And all I could see were these little metal crypts. You go out onto a catwalk, punch in a number at the computer, and a robot arm brings you the coffin that your books are in. I immediately envisioned opening one of the boxes to find a head. I know. Too many late night movies. But seriously. How could this be a library? Where is the smell of musty books? The old decrepit bindings falling half off? The dewey decimal tags? But apparently, this is now the library. While looking into this whole ordeal, I came across this..
Am I the only person who thinks this is freaky?
(Un)Friendly
A friend who has over one thousand Facebook friends recently added me to her ever growing list of Facebook friends. I am sure that sometime soon I’ll be one in a million. I suppose she is a friend, well, at the very least, the daughter of a someone I used to work with. While clicking approve, or add, or whatever it is that you click to signify that it’s ok and you really are friends, I experienced a sudden epiphany. A vision? A revelation of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, who was and is and ever more shall be? No. Just the fact that I really like the number 222. And that I think it’s quite a large number. And in fact, despite my very cheerful and bubbly enthusiasm, in every personality test I’ve ever taken, I’ve always scored a little higher than Eeyore would have on extroversion. Perhaps I am a true double minded person. Perhaps I am truly insane. Perhaps I don’t know myself. Perhaps I am just a little too comfortable with being not quite. At any rate. My minor epiphany led to my next big decision. Two Hundred and Twenty Two friends are too many for me to handle! And so, I felt the need to purge my Facebook list. Does that mean I am never again adding anyone? Never let it be. I would add Michelle Obama in a New York minute. But I would first whittle my list down by just that one person.
It all seems so… callous no? This, I must sacrifice him to add her or her to add him whateverever. But lets just think about this for a minute. Despite the fact that Facebook is wonderful as a networking device where I can have countless relationships and adds and status updates from a bajillion people, is that what I really want? I work a lot with High School youth, and one thing that I’ve observed is that the ones that spend the most time on Facebook and other networking websites are the ones that are the most socially awkward and unable to hold any sort of content filled conversation. Honestly, I don’t think I was much better. Pretty darn awful actually. And I’m still not great at the whole conversation thing. But I can’t help but feel there is some sort of correlation there. It may be the chicken or the egg, but I don’t think it’s helping me.
A friend that I haven’t seen since ninth grade recently posted, “Best to unfriend those who aren’t really”. I was mighty surprised that I made the cut. It’s good to know that I’m not all alone in the FB universe….
The Mediator is Always Misunderstood
This past week I spent a (rough) day in legal mediation. No worries, not my own, but just as support for someone else. And I just want to say, man! Those mediators have a tough job. The man spends the whole time running between two rooms where the two parties are situated and when he is in our room, he represents the other side, when he is in their room he represents us. I can only say that if he represented us as well as he represented them then we had really good representation. But the thing is, no one likes you! Everyone thinks you are taking sides. But really, he’s not. It’s understood that he is the mediator. This little window into the abyss of our legal system really enlightened me as to why people get so angry at reconciliations. The other day I attempted, in vain, to moderate a slight, difference of opinion if you will between some young folk (ah… the smell of teen spirit). It didn’t go well. I was totally misunderstood and the point was not only well taken, but completely lost. But after the little mediation mingle, I realized the difficulty yet the beauty of it all. Given that I really had not accounted for immaturity (I forget what it is to be a teenager sometimes… just sometimes), the two situations were really mirror images. In both I saw how both sides of the dispute were clouded by their own inability to see and think beyond themselves, not to the other end of the dispute, but to what the neutral party was offering.
It brings to mind how little we appreciate and understand the great work of Jesus. Hebrews tells us that …
But you have come to Mount Zion and to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to innumerable angels in festal gathering, and to the assembly of the firstborn who are enrolled in heaven, and to God, the judge of all, and to the spirits of the righteous made perfect, and to Jesus, the mediator of a new covenant, and to the sprinkled blood that speaks a better word than the blood of Abel.
Amen.
Age to Age
I spent the better part of last week in the hospital. My dad had lung surgery and the whole getting better process took longer than anticipated. Because it wasn’t what any of us had anticipated, we were caught off guard and schedules had to be changed. The good news is that Dad is fine. The time I spent with my parents was meaningful. A real reflection on life and a scary glimpse of old age. Whenever we (young’uns) are called on to help our parents, especially in these types of situations it brings out not only the best in all of us, but a lot of food for thought along the circle of life lines. Which I won’t bore you with here because I’m sure that everyone, at the point when we realize our parents are getting really old and we are headed down the same road, has similar thoughts.
This was also the first time my kids have been separated from me for an extended time. Yes, I was worried, but luckily, God blessed me with a great husband and fairly easy kids.
Airport Arrival
lip owie
As a gift I had gotten some bandaids in the Cedars gift shop. Z put them to good use right away. I think it would make a good diet plan as well.
Recent Comments