Month: May 2007

Day 48

They say that the smile is the most contagious expression. I think “they” should add that it can also be a rather awkward expression . . .

I smile a lot. I can’t help it. I’ll be trekking along down Wisconsin Ave and I’ll remember something funny, which will inevitably make me smile. It seems that most people don’t smile randomly while they walk. I do (smile, that is).

This cheerful tendency has some unfortunate side effects.

Take today, for instance. I was minding my own business, traipsing along and smiling to myself about this, that, or the other thing, which was all well and good ’til I accidentally made eye contact with a young man. Oops. Making eye contact. Smiling. Not a good combination. Of course he smiled back, with one of those do-I-know-you-and-and-why-are-you-grinning-at-me smiles. His puzzled expression only added to the ridiculousness of the situation. Of course, I started to laugh, so I did the only thing I could do.

I kept walking. Quickly. And I did not look back.

That weird encounter is similar to one we’ve probably all had: you know, the instance where you think someone is waving at you, so you wave back (sometimes quite enthusiastically). Mid-wave, you suddenly realize that they weren’t, in fact, waving at you; they were actually waving at the guy sitting 2 rows behind you. You always feel a little awkward after that. At least I do.

Onward.

Proverbs 15:13 A joyful heart makes a cheerful face, But when the heart is sad, the spirit is broken.

Proverbs 17:22 A joyful heart is good medicine, But a broken spirit dries up the bones.

These seemed to be appropriate verses for today’s entry (minus the whole “awkward” element, of course).

Day 49

“Why do writers write? Because it isn’t there.” – Thomas Berger

One of the many things that is so enjoyable about language is its infinite possibility. The combination of words and thoughts we can create is staggeringly vast. Each day we utter sentences that have never been uttered before.

The fluorescent green-striped and pink polka-dotted mollycoddle of a collie marched his way to Mars, skipped over Saturn, and tumbled head over tail back to Earth, where he landed in a swimming pool inhabited by shiny black opossums who bore a strange resemblance to Davy Crockett.

I can 100% guarantee you that that crazy, rather nonsensical sentence has never been written before in the history of mankind. I wrote it because it wasn’t there. Ever. But now it is.

Write a brand-new sentence yourself and feel free to post your creative writings in the comments section. I’m sure I’ll get a kick out of them.

Onward.

I couldn’t sleep this morning early – I wasn’t fully awake, but I was having some vague uneasiness about the impending day, so I got up and turned on some lights and opened my Bible. I read the first 4 chapters or so of Ephesians before sleep started to reclaim my brain. I find it amazing how the Word of God can slice through even my grogginess and comfort and renew my mind.

Some things I was reminded of in the pre-dawn:

I have been blessed with every spiritual blessing in the heavenlies in Christ.

I was dead in trespasses and sins, but God (two of the most beautiful words in the entire Bible) who is rich in mercy made me alive by his grace.

He is my peace.

And I can know the love of Christ which surpasses knowledge.

Day 50

I’m exhausted. Plumb tuckered out. My brain feels like it’s gone through the wringer.

Why, you may ask?

I’ve just spent a good hour or so trying to decipher the Milwaukee County Transit System Bus Schedule. It’s like trying to figure out clues on a treasure map, but the clues are in a different language. It’s tough enough trying to find the correct routes using the magic multi-colored decoder ring, but trying to figure out where you need to be when is even more fun.

“Well I could catch the bus at 6:53 at N. 12th, but then I’d be cutting it close for my 7:10 transfer at Oklahoma. Still, if I take the 6:35 bus, I’ll be waiting for 15 minutes at Oklahoma in the elements, whatever they may be. So, do I want to be risking missing the second bus or do I want to bide my time in torrential rain, hurricane force winds, and temperatures that may well dip into a range comfortable only to polar bears? Hmmm.”

Being the overly cautious individual that I am, I’d probably pick the latter.

Onward.

Yesterday I read an article by a pastor in northern Minnesota on how to respond to unexpected trials. I can’t quote him exactly, but he said something along the lines of “To expect not to have hardship and trouble in this like is to have the wrong expectation.”

Jesus said it like this in John 16:33 –  “In this world you will have trouble.”

I’m so glad he added, “But take heart! I have overcome the world.”

Day 51

In Flanders fields the poppies grow
Between the crosses row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

– Lieutenant Colonel John McCrae

Day 52

This morning on the way to church, my friend Bill and I saw a doe and her tiny fawn. Very nearly unfortunately, they were standing like statues in a patch of shade in the middle of the road. But we stopped in time and all stared at each other for a while. The baby was beautiful – obviously quite brand-new with those little white spots on his back and legs so spindly he could hardly stand up on them. His mama eventually took off and he tried to follow, toddling along on someone’s front yard, then cowering behind a tree as we pulled up alongside.

I think Bill got a semi-decent picture of the pair – I’ll post it if and when I can. It was a sweet way to start the day.

And the day has turned out to be quite lovely, by the way. Coming home after lunch, we took a detour down by the lake (Michigan, fyi). The lakefront was a panoply of activity -kites flying, sailboats sailing, and people playing frisbee, rollerblading, and picnicking against the backdrop of the blue sky, the bluer water. I held my arm out the car window into the cool breeze and warm sunlight, as if by reaching out so far, I could somehow capture it all and take it home to save for a gray sky day.

I love days like today.

Onward.

Romans 1:16 “For I am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ, for it is the power of God unto salvation for everyone who believes”

That’s the 3-5 year-old Sunday School verse this month. Today, several of them recited it with minimal assistance. There’s something pretty special about a three year old reciting a verse about the salvation and God’s power. Do they understand it at this point? Not totally. Still, it’s in their head. It’s God’s Word.

And God’s Word does not return empty (Isaiah 55:11).

Day 53

I have this thing for sad music. I like it when a song brings tears to my eyes. It’s not that way with movies so much. With those, I want my happy ending. Yet I’m content to have a song that leaves me contemplative and a little wistful.

On my computer, I have a whole playlist of songs that are melancholy – songs about saying goodbye, losing a friend, taking things for granted, hard times, homesickness. Some of them I love because of a single line, others I enjoy from beginning to end.

Maybe I’m a little odd in that way, but I think I’ve figured out a couple of reasons why these types of songs get to me. Fist off, they remind me of heaven.

What? Mournful music reminds me of heaven?

Yeah. When I hear James Taylor singing Stephen Foster’s “Hard Times Come Again No More”, I think about that time when all hard times will end. When Bebo Norman grieves the death of a friend in “Rita”, he says, “The finest moment no man can measure, is to look your Savior in the eye.”  Mary Fahl’s “Going Home” (from the Civil War film Gods and Generals) reminds me that I am going home.

Secondly, we live in a world that’s overwhelmed by bitter, wracked by pain. Music that addresses that is honest music. Not that music that sings of beauty and happiness is not honest – I love joyous music. Gladness is also a part of this earthly life. But songs that look at our struggle and aching (without going overboard into despair) seem to touch me more. 

Because out of the melancholy, I take comfort in the settled assurance that I am going home. After all, I am saved by his grace. I am made for eternity.

Day 54

Right before I closed down the info desk last night at 10 PM Central Time, I took a quick glance over at home. This was the webcam capture at 5:59 AM East Africa Time:

You can just start to make out the images of the mountains in the gray morning, and as I walked home in the moist windswept darkness, I began to imagine the stirrings of my family as their night yielded to the rising sun. It’s imaginations such as those that make me feel closer to the ones I love.

So while they began a day, mine ended with a sleepy smile, and the whisper of “Good morning, good night.”

Day 55

Did you know that cicadas taste like shrimp? Nor did I, until I heard a entomologist (insect guy) on the radio describing how he likes to grill them. Good to know, considering Brood XIII of this delicacy is soon going to emerge from the ground by the billions and start overrunning (overflying?) my part of the country, as they do every 17 years or so.

If we could get them and the flying ants from Kenya together, we could have a good old fashioned Insect Fry. Now that would be tasty.

Onward.

1 John 5:9-13 If we receive the testimony of men, the testimony of God is greater; for the testimony of God is this, that He has testified concerning His Son. ¹⁰ The one who believes in the Son of God has the testimony in himself; the one who does not believe God has made Him a liar, because he has not believed in the testimony that God has given concerning His Son. ¹¹ And the testimony is this, that God has given us eternal life, and this life is in His Son. ¹² He who has the Son has the life; he who does not have the Son of God does not have the life. ¹³ These things I have written to you who believe in the name of the Son of God, so that you may know that you have eternal life.

That pretty much says it all.

Do you have the Son? Do you have eternal life? If you will simply trust in His work for you, you can KNOW for certain that you are going to Heaven.

Do you know?

Day 56

This is “Pearls Before Swine” from earlier this week – reminds me of the good ol’ days back in Kenya. A little.

Being a cartoonist has got to be a fun gig. I’d take up a comic strip if I was a funny, over-the-top-creative person. Alas, I am not.

Onward.

Speaking of chameleons, believers shouldn’t be one of those:

Romans 12:2 “Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.”

Day 57

When my family came back to the States for furlough in 2002 and I flew back to PA for a visit, I figured it would be a good time to catch up on the fulfillment of my sister-ly duties, which obviously included imparting my vast stores of wisdom to my younger siblings.

A great opportunity presented itself when we came back from the library one afternoon with our laundry basket full of books, and I settled down on the couch with then 8-year-old Daniel to puruse a children’s book on ancient Greece. As we were reading about various historical figures, Pythagoras came up.

“He was an important mathematician,” I told my brother, “He discovered an important equation called the Pythagorean theorem.” I was about to continue my explanation, but before I could –

“Oh, yeah, ” Daniel said, very matter-of-factly, “a² + b² = c².”

Good gravy. I think I was still at the this-is-how-you-color-inside-the-lines stage when I was in second grade.

Proverbs 2:6 “For the LORD gives wisdom; From His mouth come knowledge and understanding.”

Day 58

Growing up, there’d be those times when my mother would ask me, “Did you leave your brain under the bed?” Because  it sure seemed like I had. At least then I would have had an excuse for the mindless things I did. (And still do. Sigh.)

For instance: talking. Too much. Without thinking. Lately it’s been occurring to me that I’m not as keen on this speech apparatus thing as I once was. After I’ve put my foot in my mouth (again), I can see that it’s way more trouble than it’s worth. The mouth, I mean. Not the foot. I still have a pretty good relationship with both my feet as I wrote about in the 29 March entry.

Yes, I know my aversion to the whole speech deal is a strange thing to hear from someone who intends to make a living helping people speak better, but seriously. James was not kidding when he said that “no one can tame the tongue” (James 3:8). It’s a scary thing.

The reason that I’m thinking these thoughts is that this morning Emily (Emily-my-friend as opposed to Emily-my-sister) and I read Proverbs 21 (i.e. the “Proverb of the Day”). Here’s verse 23:”He who guards his mouth and his tongue, guards his soul from troubles.” I really need the Lord’s wisdom to keep my mouth shut when I should.

And his courage to speak up when it’s hard.

Day 59

Oh, no. Not for me. For about 2000 other MU students. For me, that day is still 364 days away, and . . . oh, there’s another good countdown. P’raps I shall take that into account when this one draws to a close.

Anyway, today got me to thinking about the ultimate Graduation Day, the Day which is drawing ever closer but for which there can be no countdown, ’cause I don’t know when it is. Might be today. Might be 70 years from now (though I hope not). What I do know is that it’s the Day when I leave this earth and “graduate” to Home. Heaven.

I can’t wait.

What, do I have some kind of morbid death wish? No way! If you know me at all, or if you’ve read my blog for any length of time, you’ll know how much joy and delight I take in life – in its big events, in its smallest details. I love life. Life is good. Truly.

Heaven’s better. Infinitely so. Because that’s where my Savior is.

A friend once said to me that for the believer, dying is just going to sleep and waking up with Jesus by your side. Is there a more beautiful thought in the universe?

If you’ve trusted Jesus Christ alone for salvation, none can be sweeter.

Day 60

Preface to today’s entry: I wasn’t going to write the following story. I didn’t want my readers to pity me or think this is a backdoor way of trying to get money. It’s not. But it is a way I see God working, so I’m going to share. Okay. Disclaimer aside. Read on.

It’s not unusual for people to have breakfast with the morning paper, but today, breakfast came with the morning paper.

As is my custom on Saturday morning, I threw on some clothes and shuffled outside to get the Journal-Sentinel. When I picked it up, I saw that the bag it came in was one big advertisement for General Mills’ “Whole-Grain” cereals. I got inside, flipped the bag over and found, to my great delight, three mini boxes of cereal.

I say to my great delight, because I’m a graduate student. I am not wealthy, to understate my financial condition. I live pretty much paycheck to paycheck and things can get a little tight. Or a lot tight.

So, even though I do have food in the fridge, I still laughed and gave thanks when I saw those Cheerios and Cinnamon Toast Crunch. It was more than just cereal to me. It was the Lord nudging my heart, reminding me that he is my provider. Yes, I should work hard to earn money – that’s Biblical. But at the end of the day (or in this case, the beginning), it is my God who is the One who provides for me, sometimes in very unusual ways.

Like the time he sent breakfast with the morning paper.

Day 61

One of the jobs I currently do is probably the most mind-numbing job I’ve had – and like any semi-skilled hourly-wage worker, I’ve had several of those. In this one, I go through Wisconsin charitable foundations’ tax forms (990s) and extract important information, like the type and amount of the grants they have given out, their directors’ names, etc. Doing this for several hours a day can make you a little crazy. But even this oft monotonous work is not without its’ humorous moments.

For instance, last year, a co-worker found a grant – actually a scholarship – given to a young man. There was his name, and next to it was the amount of the scholarship – $0. That’s what prompted my friend to make the above comment.

Another foundation’s giving for the year consisted, in its entirety, of a lovely grant to the March of Dimes . . . in the amount of $1. Yes, sometimes the generosity can be just plain overwhelming.

Today I uncovered a grant of $13,800 ear-marked for, and I quote, “Combustion of biogas from food residuals”. Hmmm.

Onward.

2 Corinthians 1:3-5 Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, ⁴ who comforts us in all our affliction so that we will be able to comfort those who are in any affliction with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. ⁵ For just as the sufferings of Christ are ours in abundance, so also our comfort is abundant through Christ.

The God of ALL comfort. He comforts us in ALL our affictions. I like that.

And then he can use us to comfort others in ANY affiction, even if we’ve never gone through that particular trial, because it is truly with HIS overarching, all-encompassing comfort.

I like that too.

Day 62

Last week, I had a craving for kettle corn, so I went to the store and bought these single-serve packets of popcorn for 27 cents apiece. Splashed on the front of the package was the following: “Reduced cooking time!” (And in smaller letters, it mumbled something about compared with a regular-sized bag of popcorn.)

Please. That’s advertising gimmick-ry at its worst. Really? You mean to tell me that cooking a smaller amount of food takes less time? Quite amazing.

I wonder if people actually fall for it. I suppose they do. We aren’t as bright as we sometimes think we are.

Onward. 

A wonderful song I learned in Duluth (author unknown):

Rest, the Lord is near,Refuse to fear
Enjoy His love.
Trust. His mighty power
Fills every hour
Of all your days.

There is no need for needless worry,
With such a Savior,
You have no cause to ever doubt. His perfect Word
Still reassures in any trial.

Rest, the Lord is near
Lift up your prayers
for He is strong.
Trust. He’ll bring relief
and perfect peace
will calm your mind.

Call Him if you grow frightened
Call Him.
With loving care,
He’ll lift the burden and you’ll
Rest, the Lord is near
Refuse to fear
Enjoy His love.

Day 63

When I saw her face on the front page today, she caught my heart. The first thing I thought was, She could’ve been one of my kids – one of those dear little rascals I taught letters and sounds to last semester.

But she wasn’t one of “mine”. This 4-year-old in a pink tank top who smiled micheveously up at me from the newspaper was the one who was jumping rope outside her house on Monday night. She was the one was who was killed in a drive-by shooting by a “gutless thug” (as Mayor Barrett called him) who only shot his intended target in the leg.

I can’t help but wonder if that little girl was saved – had anyone shared the gospel with her? Was she even at the age of accountability so that she could understand and respond by simple childlike faith to the news of Christ’s death for her and ressurrection?

These questions, along with many others, will go unanswered. People will try to answer the whys and the whats. They will talk of too many tragedies, of gang problems or gun problems, of changes that need to be made in crime-ridden areas of the city. They will come up with solutions – more police patrols, more legislation, more cracking down. But they won’t come up with a solution for man’s heart of darkness.

And what has saddened me today is, they won’t come up with a solution for Jasmine.

Day 64

As per the American Heritage Dictionary:

jar•gon n. The specialized or technical language of a trade, profession, or similar group.

Yesterday’s entry got me to thinking about what is commonly referred to as “lingo”. For the most part, we are all speakers of the same language. We can communicate; we understand each other. Then you get into a car with two engineering students for the ride to church, and though you believe they are speaking English, they may as well be chatting in Urdu for all you can understand of their conversation.

Of course it goes both ways. We all have a “second language” within our professions and special interests. I discuss things with my SLP pals that are completely incomprehensible to my engineering friends. (I know – I’ve tried explaining certain aspects of the field to them at times – with mixed results.) 

Sports are also notoriously jargon-y. Take baseball, for instance. If you are a novice wanting to learn the game, you probably shouldn’t do so just by listening to it on the radio. It’s been around for about 160 years, and is full of baffling lingo that broadcasters use liberally. “Full house”? “Sacks are jammed”? “Back-to-back jacks”? ” “4-6-3”? “Texas leaguer”? “Double switch”? At least have someone there to explain. Or get a book.

The whole jargon thing becomes most problematic when something like the following situation arises: a hilarious event occurs in your morphology class (That’s the study of word formation – and believe it or not, funny things did happen.) so you try to tell your non-linguistics friends, certain they’ll share your enjoyment. You’re rolling on the floor. They don’t get it. Therefore, they don’t laugh.

Kind of anti-climactic when you waited all afternoon to share the joke.

Onward.

Psalm 138:8 The LORD will accomplish what concerns me; Your lovingkindness, O LORD, is everlasting; Do not forsake the works of Your hands.

As I alluded to in the previous entry, I sort of hit a road block yesterday. Smooth sailing, then WHAM. Time to rearrange my focus, to ask some questions:

Does the Lord know about this? Yes. Did he see it coming? Of course. Is the Lord the Lord over this situation? Oh, yes. Will he accomplish what concerns me? Yes. Is his lovingkindness truly everlasting? Yes. Will he forsake this child, this work of his hands?

No. Never.

So I rested.

Day 65 

There’s not a more fun way to write words than by using International Phonetic Alphabet.

I realize that, having written the above statement, I just lost half my readership for today’s entry. (Thank you to the 2.5 of you who are still bearing with me.) But I’m serious. What other alphabet can be used to write any language in the world? Not a one. The good ol’ IPA has a symbol for every sound humans produce in our thousands of languages. From glottal stops (the little catch you feel in your throat when you are in the middle of “uh-uh”, as in “no”) to nasals (think “m” “n” and “ng”) to alveolar stops (“t” and “d”) to non-English sounds like clicks and trills and pharyngeal fricatives. Oh, and all the vowels, too.

Check it out here: http://www.omniglot.com/writing/ipa.htm 

And if you ever get the chance, take a phonetics course. It is seriously fun – you sit around making odd noises and attempting to correctly pronounce words that look like, using our alphabet, “mahmoofeeseeheekah”. But not exactly like that, because unfortunately I don’t have IPA script on my computer. Bummer.

Onward.

Ever been expecting something big to happen, and then all the circumstances go in the completely opposite direction? Yeah, me too. It sure takes the wind out of your sails, throws you for a loop, knocks you down, and all the other metaphors we use for disappointment.

It’s times like these I need the Shepherd. He knows.

Where He leads me I must follow
Without Him I’d lose my way
I will see a bright tomorrow
If I follow Him today

Like a lamb who needs the Shepherd
At His side I choose to stay                                                                                                                                                           Through the night His strength I’ll borrow
Then I’ll see another day

Life is like a winding pathway
Who can tell what lies ahead?
Will it lead to shady pastures,
Or to wilderness instead?

Like a lamb who needs the Shepherd
When into the night I go
Help me find the path that’s narrow
While I travel here below

Though you walk through darkest valleys
And the sky is cold and gray
Though you climb the steepest mountains
He will never let you stray

Like a lamb who needs the Shepherd
By your side He’ll always stay
‘Til the end of life’s long journey
He will lead you all the way.

– R. Carmichael

Day 66

Around the blogosphere today, millions of people are writing about their moms. It’s Mother’s Day after all, so it is The Thing To Do.

Resistance is futile. I’m joining the masses. ‘Cause whatever any of you think, I, along with my five siblings, have the bestest mom in the world. Indubitably.

Nine or so Septembers ago, I had to have an operation done in Philadelphia, so the day before the surgery, my parents and I headed into the city where we would spend the night at a hotel. My dad dropped my mom and me off and headed somewhere to do some business of some kind. It was a beautiful late summer day, and “we girls” set off exploring the downtown area. This was before I became city-fied by Chicago and Milwaukee, so the energy and bustle were quite the experience for me.

My mom was born and raised in the area, and went to school in Philadelphia, so it was fun for her on a different level. Maybe that’s why she was willing to sing “Old Man River” on a karaoke machine on a side street. It was part of a promotion for the musical that song was in, and she really managed to ham it up. (This was made easier, I’m sure, by the fact that she didn’t know “Old Man River”.) As a typical teenager, I wavered between laughing at the dissonant echoing of her voice on the brick buildings and wanting to melt into a puddle from embarrassment.

A little bit after the karaoke adventure we wandered into a bookstore, which is a very dangerous place for Morrisons. We tend to get a little stuck. Surround us with thousands of books and it’s good luck to anyone trying to pry our eyes away. That day was a little different, because that day, we saw The Dictionary. As in Mr. Webster’s Unabridged. 25 pounds or so of words, words, words, all defined to the nth degree. Truly a thing of beauty. And what’s this? It’s on sale? For $10? What a bargain! So we bought it, of course not taking fully into account the fact that we would be lugging our well-defined words around with us for the remainder of the afternoon.

It actually wasn’t all that bad, and the day made for some fun memories with my mom. I can still see her half-laughing/half-singing that goofy song into the microphone, her eyes shining with the fun of it. It was the same sparkle I saw later when we found the dictionary and she said to me, “Should we get it? Let’s get it!”

In the scope of my life, those were two very small events, but they have been ingrained in the “special times” area in my memory. Maybe it was because of the big-city atmosphere, the warm sunny day, the impulsivity, the carefreeness.

But mostly, I think it was because I did it with Mom.

Day 67

Is there anything odder in our experience than dreams? When I was little I kept having these awful nightmares about someone close to me getting struck by lightning as we were walking down the street. (That’s not actually a warning to anyone to stay away from me during a thunderstorm, by the way.)

These days, the dream that comes back over and over is far less sinister, but disconcerting nonetheless. In this dream, I discover at the end of a semester that I’ve forgotten to go to a class I registered for. Or I forget to show up for the final. Either way, I flunk the course and must retake it, effectively decimating both my GPA and bank account in one fell swoop.

I think the anxiety regarding forgetting a class started when I was taking online courses. There were times when I would go for a week or so before suddenly remembering I was taking a course on the Internet. There’d be this panicked scramble to see if I’d missed any assignments, or, horror of horrors, an actual test due date. No great damage was done by my temporary neglect, and I did manage to pass all 3 classes.

Despite this, the terrible idea of forgetting a course is still there, somewhere in the deep recesses of my hippocampus. (Or whichever part of the brain controls memory. I can’t remember.) Wish it would leave me alone to enjoy summer. . .

Onward.

John 7:43 “So there was a division among the people over him.”

Tomorrow I am subbing for a Sunday School teacher who is going through the book of John with the 6-12 year olds. The study guide I’m using points out the above verse as the key verse for the chapter.

It got me to thinking – when it comes to Jesus, there’ll always be a division. He is the dividing line in the sand. You mention Jesus, and people will either side with you or they’ll be dead set against you.

He is the Truth, and there can be no wishy-washiness with that.