As your stand there on the podium, beckoning us to believe, we lift our voices and shout our praise. We wave our “hail hosanna” cardboard signs crying victory in your name. We bow and uphold you for the promised change you jingle in your pocket. Change that will feed the hungry, shelter the homeless, provide for the needy, and lower taxes. Your face glows as you draw us near to you and summon us to hope. Your messianic voice cries salvation from the sin in which we’ve been forced to wallow. Your face shimmers in divine light with reflections of halos round your head. You are the answer. You bring redemption. We dance in the aisles, while tongues of praise pour on you as rain. Delegates sing hymns of your glory and chant triumphant battle cries. Your promises ring prophecies in our ears. In you we place our trust. Our hope is in you. Show us your way. Guide us in what you know of truth. For we know that in you, all will be made right.
We will be restored.
In your name we’ll become The United States of a new creation. The old has gone, the new has come.Save us, O redeemer. Our children nestle against your neck, raised up rightly in adoration of you. Your redemption will spread through the ages. Tears of hope for tomorrow fall down our cheeks as you kiss our babies, grasp our hand, and lead us to the Promised Land full of milk and honey and all that we believe us to deserve. In you, we can. With our hope in you, country first shall be last. Those who choose you are free indeed. Let freedom ring. Save us from our enemies. Deliver us from evil. For yours is our kingdom, our power and glory for years,
Anytime I make a mixed CD, it ends up being a near "best of Derek Webb," cd. With all the craziness the United States election brings, this song is pretty much all I can think of.
I’m so tired of these mortal men with their hands on their wallets and their hearts full of sin scared of their enemies, scared of their friends and always running for re-election so come to DC if it be thy will because we’ve never had a savior on Capitol Hill
you can always trust the devil or a politician to be the devil or a politician but beyond that friends you’d best beware ’cause at the Pentagon bar they’re an inseparable pair and as long as the lobbyists are paying their bills we’ll never have a savior on Capitol Hill
[Bridge] all of our problems gonna disappear when we can whisper right in that President’s ear he could walk right across the reflection pool in his combat boots and ten thousand dollar suit
you can render unto Caesar everything that’s his you can trust in his power to come to your defense it’s the way of the world, the way of the gun it’s the trading of an evil for a lesser one so don’t hold your breath or your vote until you think you’ve finally found a savior up on Capitol Hill
Coldplay's song "Lost" seems to be fitting. I'm in the exact same place I was two years ago. I've felt for sometime that coming back from Seattle was like backing my car into a mud puddle.Going backwards and getting stuck. Now the wheels are spinning in place, tossing mud on my surroundings, as I sit stationary.
I'll finish up at USF in December....again. I felt my time in Sioux Falls was up in 2006. Then I forgot that. Now I remember. I'm learning to embrace that part of myself that isn't content to sit idle. Not everyone is blessed with a desire to go. So I'll go. I just have to figure out...Where?
I'm excited to be taking a writing class again. It's so good to bring writing forward from the back burner. I'm probably going to post some of the stuff I write for class. Here's the first essay I wrote this semester.
Waves (or The Day I Saw God)
In 1923, poet William Carlos Williams wrote, “so much depends upon a red wheelbarrow.” Well, pardon the thievery, Mr. Williams, I must insist, that in fact, so much depends upon the ocean. Until last year, I’d forgotten how big the ocean is. It sounds a silly thing to say, I know. Obviously the ocean is gigantic, who forgets that? Though large it is, it is the vastness that makes me stand in awe. It is here, gazing upon the ocean, mouth agape at its awesomeness, that one stares into the face of an entity infinitely bigger than the self. Together, here, on the shore of the sea, Christians, Atheists, Agnostics, and others find a commonality in the immensity of such a sight. Though perhaps others experience different, I saw God at the Ocean.
I awoke in the apartment that was still quite foreign to me, in a city I couldn’t yet tell would be home. Shifting on the futon my hosts had so graciously allowed me for the week, I stared at the grey hovering masses of mist and cloud passing the window, wondering what I might do with my time that bleak Sunday morning. The previous Sunday morning found me snug in the bed of the wicker room, while my grandmother busily placed the Christmas decorations back in what would be their cardboard homes for the next 12 months. Just weeks prior to that, my college diploma was plopped in my hands, my roommates had moved on, and the end of an era came crashing down around me.
Not more than a month earlier, I was to be found sitting at a desk three times a week studying the book of Genesis. Being in so much contact with Abraham at the end of an era is a precarious thing when you’re the owner of a restless heart, or you’ve just quit your job, and have nearly everything you own in your car. Or all of the above.
So six days after deciding to move to Seattle and three days after arriving there, I listened to the hum of the city below me. Seeing as how I couldn’t look for a job or a place to live as it was Sunday, I came up with the only logical solution. I was going to the Ocean. Geography will tell you that Seattle is not situated directly next to the Pacific Ocean. Growing up in a Midwestern landlocked state will tell you that is not important when you’ve just driven 1500 miles. What’s 100 more?
After a lunch at Barbara’s by the Sea, a quaint little café’ overlooking the docks, I pulled my car into a parking lot next to the breaking wall. As I opened my door my ears were greeted by the sound of thunderous waves demanding to know why I hadn’t been to visit in so long. I ran to them as after a long lost love. They were a long lost love, and we had found each other at last. And we embraced.
I stood at the edge of the water, staring into the infinite sea. I waited. At any given moment I would be engulfed, the vastness would overtake me and I would be swept out to sea, forever to be with my beloved. But, alas, the waves landed consistently at my feet, making fall in the same place they had collapsed daily for millennia upon millennia. This would not be the day I would be taken. Today, only my toes would taste its frigid kiss, my nostrils seduced with its cool salty air.
I drew back from the line where water met earth. I pulled my scarf nearer, as the January wind blew in harshly against my face. I found myself entranced by broken sea shells that littered the shore. I felt an affinity for their beautiful brokenness and saw myself in them. I took my place on a piece of driftwood, piled up with thousands of other pieces the ocean had enticed in some far off land and spit out miles away from home. The dull grey sky loomed overhead.
And then, they arrived. Silhouette’s down the shore, making their way toward my ocean. I burned with anger that others would infringe on my interlude with the sea. I’d have cast stones, had my good Midwestern upbringing not thought it impolite.Yet as I sneered, the two silhouettes took their places silently on the sandy shore, assuming the same position I found myself in, gazing at the boundless sea, waiting to be engulfed, swept up by their beloved. Then suddenly, as if granted permission after a silent prayer, a single silhouette strode toward water. His shadowy surfboard hit the waves and he sailed away from the shore. He paddled farther out and my heart chased him, envious of his ability to be joined with the water. As he made his home among the waves, my eyes found their way to his companion, sitting silently on the shore, still, as I was, contemplating the sea. The sky began to send us a mist. Neither of us moved. The sight was too grand. From behind the mist came the setting sun. No bright orb present, but an orange glowing curtain draping itself over us. The radiant mist hung heavily as even the infinite waters were absorbed by the light. What were Moses’ thoughts when God placed him in a cleft and passed by in all his glory? Here sat mortals contemplating the infinite, the infinite then dwarfed by the divine. Surely, this is how Moses saw, nestled in the cleft, eyes upon the ocean of God.
Check out http://www.wordsmith.org/anagram/index.html Here are some anagrams of my first and last name:
As Smiles Go (my favorite...kind of wish I would have titled my blog that)
Me Is Go Lass-true! I am a lass who goes. As Less Go Mi Gas Mess Oil--oil for gas got us in this mess (ie, iraq) Gas Lose Mis Gas So Miles--i have gas, so i can go miles. makes all the sense in the world Gas So Smile-you know that's just funny Less Mis Ago-it's true...I'm more me every day! I Mess Goals --yep, that too Goal Is Mess Mess Is Goal--have you ever seen my room? You'd think it was my goal. Sea Log Miss-I don't know about the log, but I sure miss the sea Sale Go Miss Males Go Sis Ages Mi Loss--I'm sure that will ring true in a few years Ages Slim So--isn't it the opposite? Mega Sis Sol--yep, my sister brings major sunshine Game Is Loss A Semi Gloss--like paint. partial artist. A Miss Ogles--I was told I look like a lesbian, by a lesbian. Not that that's bad. I don't know what a lesbian looks like. I like all the lesbians I know. Lass Egoism Missal Goes--I do have a tendency to just take off... Sigmas Oles--hooray for taking greek! Sigma Loses-Boo for losing all the knowledge I learned in greek Gasses Limo Images Loss and last but not least, another personal favorite: Ales Go Miss---feel free to add the ing
For several years now, I've had a mental list of well known people I'd like to sit down and have coffee with. I actually got to sit down with one of them, before I'd even written down such a list. 5 1/2 years ago, I sat at Starbucks in Little Five Points, in Atlanta, GA with Jay Bakker (Son of Jim and Tammy Faye). Here are others that I've yet to cross off my list:
Kathleen Norris Alex Trebek Jane Goodall Krista Tippett Ann Lamott Samantha Brown Chris Martin Derek Webb Shane Claiborne Greg Graffin
Of course this list is by no means finished. Any recommendations are welcome, and I'm sure I'll be continuing to add more as well.
Hello, good morning, how ya do? What makes your rising sun so new? I could use a fresh beginning too All of my regrets are nothing new
So this is the way that I say that I need You This is the way This is the way
That I'm learning to breathe I'm learning to crawl I'm finding that You and You alone can break my fall I'm living again, awake and alive I'm dying to breathe in these abundant skies
Hello, good morning, how ya been? Yesterday left my head kicked in I never thought I could fall like that Never knew that I could hurt this bad
I'm learning to breathe I'm learning to crawl I'm finding that You and You alone can break my fall I'm living again, awake and alive I'm dying to breathe in these abundant skies
So this is the way that I say that I need You This is the way That I say I love You This is the way That I say I'm Yours This is the way This is the way
what if when we die, we're shown not a recount of our lives, but a reel of our wasted potential? i've seen videos, mostly in a high school youth group, that show teenagers dying in some horrific car accident, some who are Christians and some who are not. each are shown a "video" of their lives, documenting both poor and wise choices they made. the Christians, of course, go skating into heaven, while the non-Christians/poor choice makers (because Christians don't make poor choices, of course) tremble and wail, fall to their knees, and beg for forgiveness on the wrong side of the Jordan. while i'm fairly certain there won't be a heavenly video screen at all, and Christians obviously make poor choices daily (or, like me, hourly and on-going), i've begun wondering if when i die, i'll see who i could have been, compared with who i was. perhaps a scarier video than one exhibiting my poor choices....not that those won't be countless. i've spent so much of my life paralyzed with insecurity, laziness, bitterness, cynicism, and on and on, to be shown who i could have been could leave me wailing with the damned. and while "Grace will lead me home," it won't change the decades spent wasting away the person i was created to be.
though now that i write it, and admit that it won't change it, perhaps this Grace i speak of can draw me out of this wasted potential. or at least decrease the time spent wallowing in apathy. i've been mulling over a question as i begin preparing to apply to Mars Hill Graduate School. a question that's kind of the theme of the school: "What if i truly believed the Gospel could change the world?" now i wonder, "what if i truly believed the Gospel could change me?" a new revelation (for me).
So, along with the rest of the world, I've been watching the Olympics. And while the athletes are incredible, and I value the time and hard work they devote to their sports, not to mention their ridiculous amount of talent, the thing I love the most about the Olympics is that thousands of athletes from nations all over the world come together. Throughout the history of the Olympics, folks from warring nations compete against one another and embrace when the competition is over. Just recently, Russian and Georgian competitors both medaled in their event and went on to say there are no hard feelings between them, as their arms were draped around one another. In fact, one of them said that if the world thought more like Olympic athletes, there would be no war. When the Olympics originated in Greece, warring city-states would cease battles so that athletes could pass through safely. And it's not just the Olympics that draws people together...obviously. A few months ago when the U23D movie came out, I sat in awe as thousands of people from all over South America joined together, singing unanimously the words of the biggest rock band in the world. Bands like U2 could play on the boarder of Israel and Palestine, with citizens of each joining together belting out the words to "With Or Without You." It's cliche' to say that music can save the world, but maybe we ought to give it a shot. Thus, it's become evident that unity is not impossible. If people like Michael Phelps and Bono can unite the citizens of the world, what the hell is wrong with world leaders that they can't get their acts together? Really, it's not that hard. I believe there's some sort of rule that's golden or something....
But there I go, being all idealistic again. Phelps and Bono....they're not world leaders. They're extreme people who make us hope, think, and dream together. Phelps isn't even trying to do this, it just happens because he's a freaking bionic fish disguised as a human being. But it happens none the less. We, as a whole world, are captivated by him. Even his competitors cheer him on as he chases history. So, for the next 10 or so days, while wars continue, we should cherish this little bit of unity that is taking place in Beijing.Citizens of China have been cheering on any athlete in their sight. Let's cheer for them, too.
Ever noticed how wonder and wander have only a 1 letter difference? I almost titled my blog "words of a wanderer," but wandering is exhausting, and I'm not sure I always hope to be a wanderer, though I intend on being a wonderer forever. However, it may turn out that a wanderer is something I'll continue to be for some time as well.
I am currently at my grandparents house in the Black Hills. My grandmother and I just came back from town, and had an interesting conversation on the way back. It seems I'm quite consistently trying to justify my idealism with real life. It's occured to me that my idealism makes me into a hypocrite.
I was listening to NPR on my way out here on Wednesday. On Dakota Midday the host was interviewing Dick Myers, author of Why We Hate Us. I found the title intriquing. The book is about why as Ameicans we have so much, an abundance really, yet we are cranky, angry, and cynical most of the time. He cited the lack of community as a primary reason for this. My grandma and I started talking about this, and we both agreed that our society has become so dependent on luxuries (cell phones, computers, multiple cars, etc) and this has lead to the deconstruction of communities. Then she brought up an interesting point. "It's impossible to move backward," she said. People aren't going to give up their cell phones, video games, computers, and what not. "There just aren't enough people who are willing to do this." She said all this in response to my comment that many emerging churches are really trying to stress simplicity and commuinity. I was struck for a moment, suddenly thinking maybe we're fighting a losing battle. What's the point if this idealistic notion of simplicity can never be attained?
Then another thought occured to me. I keep looking outward at the "we." "We," being the Church with a big C, as well as society, I think. First, I have to look inward. I've had this constant inner struggle I'm needing to work out that is not letting my ideals make me into a hypocrite. It's true, I'm probably not going to give up my computer, cell phone, or whatever else. But I can use these things responsibly.
It's true, and I hate to admit it, but our society can't go back. No...it won't go back. But as an individual I can live the way I believe life should be lived, and surround myself with others who value those things as well. I want to live genuinely. And I hate using that word, because it's so cliche' right now, but it's the truth. As long as I'm letting my ideals make me a hypocrite, I'm not living genuinely. Thus, it's the every day small choices I make that are the significant ones. I know I'm probably way behind the times here, as most of my friends have figured this out a long time ago, but I think I was trying to incorporate too much. I can't change my whole life without changing small parts first. The choices I make show what I value, and I've not been super impressed with myself in many of these choices, particularly when it comes to sacrificing something I enjoy or think I need. And so, I set out to live considerately, in each decision that I make. And perhaps through these small choices, my whole life will finally resemble the ideals I spout. The whole society will never change, but it's only a losing battle if I join them without a thought....or maybe even with one.
