Rainy day

"Spirituality is anything but a straight line; it is a mixed-up, topsy-turvy, helter-skelter godliness that turns our lives into an upside-down toboggan ride full of unexpected turns, surprise bumps, and bone-shattering crashes. In other words, messy spirituality is the delirious consequence of a life ruined by a Jesus who will love us right into his arms." From Messy Spirituality: God's Annoying Love for Imperfect People by Mike Yaconelli (p. 17)
So it's raining here. And, the clouds and damp air outside almost make me believe that I'm in Oregon rather than Minnesota. But then the lack of mountains easily provide me my bearings.
It rained yesterday, too. And, I saw a little girl proudly wearing her pink, Dora the Explorer raincoat and carrying its matching umbrella. She was so pleased by the getup that she was so reluctant to put the umbrella down and take off the coat when she came inside.

A month gone by

There are times when all you can do is just float. Things around you seem to swirl. Perhaps you're overstimulated to begin with so you're juggling too many plates or balls or whatever metaphor you use to describe the events and circumstances in your life. And, then you feel like everything is moving in slow motion. The words you say seem to be in a foreign language to the people around you because although you may think that you are making sense, they have no clue or point of reference as to what you're saying. And, the things you do, the simple tasks that usually take you just seconds to do seem to drag on.
But, then you laugh at yourself and realize that the loopy, slightly groggy state you're in can be remedied by a few hours of sleep, a night of food and laughter with friends, and a hope that tomorrow will be much better.

Hope in the midst of doldrums

"We don't yet see things clearly. We're squinting in a fog, peering through a mist. But it won't be long before the weather clears and the sun shines bright! We'll see it all then, see it all as clearly as God sees us, knowing him directly just as he knows us!
But for right now, until that completeness, we have three things to do to lead us toward that consummation: Trust steadily in God, hope unswervingly, love extravagantly. And the best of the three is love."
From Eugene H. Peterson's The Message: The Bible in Contemporary Language. 1 Corinthians 13:12-13.

Daisies are happy flowers

I guess I've become a true Minnesotan because I'm going to use this posting to talk about the weather. Well, it's been positively glacial here lately. Luckily, we still see the sun. When it does pop out of the clouds, though, that means it's going to be a colder day. It took me awhile to get used to that fact because on the west coast, the appearance of sun usually signifies warmth. But, wintertime in Minnesota is definitely an exception to that theory.
It's just been so cold lately (usually close to or below zero) that I've become rather melancholy. But, I see the sun now, and I'm starting to thaw. Once you have experienced temperatures that cold, suddenly you're happy just to alive. And, things like daises give you a spring in your step.

Hiatus

So it's been awhile since I've last posted here. What have I been doing? Well, I suppose what most people do during the holiday season: eat a ton of food, spend more money than usual, and have great times with friends and family. Now that it's close to the end of January 2007, I'm beginning to readjust to my "normal" life: scrapping ice off my car windows, gathering documents needed to do my taxes, and possibly trying to walk more on the treadmill.
But what is "normal" anyway? Patsy Clairmont wrote a book titled Normal is just a setting on a dryer, and I am beginning to agree. Does the fact that I watched the Golden Globe Awards and looked up the Academy Award Nominations on the Internet make me "normal"? Or, does it just make me a consumer of the widely advertised Hollywood culture? Is the fact that I haven't watched 24 or Gray's Anatomy a reason for concern or it is just evidence that I need to be committed to an asylum? Come on. Me missing Jack Bauer's fight against terror and Dr. McDreamy's beautiful hair. You better pull out the straight jacket now.
Frankly, I don't know what's "normal." There was a time in my life where I tried to be what I conceived to be as normal. You know, find out what TV shows or Super Bowl commercials people might be talking about the water cooler at work, and see the latest blockbuster movie that all the critics are raving about. But, then I realized that I don't have time to do all that. I mean I could devote my life to doing or finding out what I conceive to be "normal," but then that would not really be living. And, the movies, TV shows, songs, and books that I tried to learn so much about would eventually become obsolete to be replaced by more and then I would really really need to be sent to the nut house because I would be suffering a severe case of information overload. Not to mention depression because all the information in my head would consist of the sugary sweet variety. I mean I'm all over occasionally tasting brain candy. Sometimes it hurts too much to think after dealing with all the manic drivers and sinus headaches in life.
But, sometimes it's nice to fill the brain with something slightly more substantial. That's why I've lately found Donald Miller's books Blue Like Jazz and Through Painted Deserts so enjoyable to read. But, who knows I might be back to watching American Idol come Tuesday.

Concession Obession

Do you remember how I said I go in spurts with having a favorite movie? Well, lately I've kind of been stuck on watching Holiday Inn (minus the song and dance numbers). A person can only hear Bing Crosby sing about Easter bonnets, white Christmases, and firecrackers a few times. Depending on the person, though, maybe once is one time too many. But, my appetite for watching holiday cheese and sap usually increases around Thanksgiving and Christmas.
And, recently, I've found The Lake House intriguing. Movies have conditioned me to desire that predictable happy ending. And, a lot of times I view my life like it could be a movie. I automatically assume that I know what plot lines, characters, and climaxes are to come, but that is so not the case. And, then I find myself disillusioned, depressed, and desperately in the need of chocolate. But, The Lake House kind of got me thinking about how I need to reframe my view of life. It involves waiting, usually for something a person does not see or know will happen in the end. But, I guess that what faith is - letting go of what one can see and control and having hope that their story will end happily.

Three magicians, a king , and a queen

I admit there's nothing really going on in my life to merit the above title. I didn't discover that I have a royal genealogy line or find that I have a new talent for disappearing. I've just been watching a lot of movies lately. (Which for those who know me well, that isn't that surprising.) But, I've actually being going to the theater to watch movies with friends instead of plugging them in my DVD player at home. So for those of you that guessed that I saw The Illusionist, The Prestige, Marie Antoinette, and The Last King of Scotland, you get a gold star.
What else have been up to since I last blogged? I bought a new pair of Converse shoes. Not the brown ones that seem to be in fashion this season. The store had chocolate brown ones, but of course, not in my size. So what do I do? I buy a pair of olive green ones to squelch my desire for a new pair of Cons. And, strangely, I wondered if I had become as bad as those people who have to have the latest pair of Nikes.
Granted, Converse shoes are a little cheaper than Nikes. But, although I was happy with my purchase (they actually have an arch support and a tread), I thought it was ironic that lately, I have been thinking about how to simplify my life and focus more on my relationships with God and people rather than material possessions. But, yet, I buy a new pair of Cons. I know that my life should be about God rather than the color of Converse shoes that I'm wearing. And, in the long-run, my relationships with Him and other people will last longer than any pair of shoes. But, stuff like Converse shoes is still tempting, and I guess my new olive green pair can remind me that I'm not immune to the tantalizing lure of materialism.