Distractions

Snowcapped mountains preface the
sun-filled city
and steal my attention
Wind rustles the pages of my unfocused work

Beauty beckons thoughts elsewhere

processing

I'm up and blogging again...mostly because I need to process stuff and my journal is almost full. So I may (or may not, we'll see how it goes) find myself blogging after classes, since I process while I write. So, while it occasionally may appear it, I'm not trying to write fallacies....I'm just trying to sort stuff out.

Reader-Response-a dangerous way of interpreting the bible? Does an author have only one intent in her writing? There are 8 billion people in the world. There's no way we're all going to read things the same way. As a writer, if I'm going to write with one specific intent, I'll write clearly. When I write with metaphor, I have to be aware that people are going to interpret that in different ways. I may have one specific incidence in mind, but people can't climb into my head and know that. They can have conversation with me, I can share my meaning, but any images I use are going to be seen differently in their minds.
True, I believe scripture to be God-breathed, or divinely inspired or whatever you want to call it. But as each of us makes up a portion of the body of Christ, should we not take into account how another views Scripture? Does the Spirit interact with us in different ways or the same? Do we put aside our worldview to interpret scripture or let scripture shape our world view. Both, I think.
What does it mean that the Bible is living?
I don't know...more to wrestle with, I guess......though I suppose that is the reason I'm in seminary(among others I'm sure will be revealed to me later)

...and particularly an evangelical seminary....

I'm sure I'll edit this later, as more processing continues.

a letter

Dear Sirs and Madam,

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,

Amen.

This Literal Chasm

This Literal Chasm

Black and white

Things are not

Messy

Things are

What is grace?

What if I don’t repent of a single sin?

Or does your grace cover all?

How do I follow the one I call Savior?

How does one worship in spirit and in truth?

Where are you?

Who are you?

Where are you not?

Even in the depths of Sheol, you are there.

As I wail in my pit

You are there

If I climb out

You are there

If I remain?

If I see your light beckoing

To climb out of my abyss

But instead, cling clumsily to the side

Because it hurts to much to climb out

Will you pull me out?

You will.

But on which side of the Jordan?

Yes, it is written.

Yes the Lord of hosts demands justice

Yes he loves us too much

To let us wallow in our pit

But it’s a long, slow rope that pulls us out

We get banged up and bloodied against the wall as we rise

And our breath may escape us before we reach the top

But we follow as he beckons

Until we breathe our last

Banish my pride, Lord

Mend this broken heart

Broken mind

Broken spirit

Broken home

Broken society

Broken church, oh Lord, we’ve broken your body

Cast us not away for our ignorance, Lord

We try to earnestly seek you

But we’re so easily distracted

So easily distracted

So easily distra

Don’t study theology, kids

But, oh how I love it

How big is your box Lord?

That too is cliché

Are we damned?

I don’t even try not to badmouth coworkers

Though you say it is murder

How many have I killed?

Hundreds

Whose faces stare gauntly at me

From the other side of the chasm?

In my mind?

Lord, save us all.

I beg you.

In your mercy, Lord, save us all.

There is too much here.

The enemy, too powerful.

Bind him.

Save us.

As we remain in our pits

Clinging clumsily to the sides

Because it hurts too fucking much to climb out

Rescue us, before breath escapes

Or Lord,

Revive us after

In your arms of mercy.

On the banks of the Jordan

When all shall have their fill

And you will be our light.

Some may be damned in the kingdom come

Lord save us all in the kingdom not yet.

This I beg.

Jesus, only you are truth.

You are the culmination

Lord your spirit is upon me

In my shortcomings and wrong beliefs

I feel you in the breeze on my face

You love me

Savior on Capitol Hill

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

2 years behind and just as lost

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?

Waves (or the day I saw God)

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.

Anagrams

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

Coffee List

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.

Learning

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

question

why do people who pride themselves on being so open minded, turn their hearts and mind off completely to anything that has to do with Christ?

I suppose He told us that would happen.

to see who I could have been

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).

unity: i'm pretty sure it can be more than a catchy word on a bumper sticker

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.

1

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.