Justice Conference - Part 3 : : Mike & Danae Yankoski : : Justice in Daily Life

I'll admit, I had some serious feelings of insignificance and inadequacy as I listened to this young couple and all that they have accomplished. They had good things to say and really got me thinking about my choices and how they effect the whole chain.

-Love is to transcend justice. There can't be love if justice is being violated. Can't have love without justice. Love is the fulfilling, completing, of justice.

-The process can be as important as the destination, the means as important as the end.

-Open you eyes! How do we respond? What is the Lord calling you to do?

-Loving our neighbor as our self means desiring/seeking their shalom.

-Characterize the journey with the flavor of the destination. {Jenn's example: If my end goal is to work with street children in Tegucigalpa who are addicted to yellow shoe glue, then my path should not include wearing shoes that use that glue, made in regions where this is a problem.}

-What are you supporting in your daily choices?

-In response to an irate demand, can we respond in love?

-When we have made a mistake, do we defend ourselves or apologize and ask forgiveness?

-How do I love my neighbor, both near and far, in my daily choices?

-What are the consequences of thinking of morality only in an individualistic way?

-We are created in the image of God to participate in the kingdom of God, not carry the weight of the world.

-As believers we are both invited and commanded to participate in the kingdom of God. The invitation is costly and will cost us everything. It is through this participation that we can find the hope of the Gospel, of life in Jesus Christ.

Mike & Danae Yankoski :: Justice in Daily Life from The Justice Conference on Vimeo.

Justice Conference - Part 2 : : Nicholas Wolterstorff : : What Is Justice?

I ♡ Nicholas Wolterstorff!

From his wild white disheveled hair, to his sweater vests, to the hankie he pulled out to wipe his nose, his demeanor screamed "professor." The introduction built him up, I was hopeful that he would be good - but could I stay awake? It had been an awfully long day already and he was just starting his talk at 8:30pm. I didn't think anyone could be that good. I was wrong. I couldn't get enough, riveted, I scrambled to take notes that I hoped would make sense later.
You are welcome to read my notes, but you'll probably be better off just scrolling down and watching the man say it for himself.

Dr. Nicholas Wolterstorff - What Is Justice?

-Ulpian defines Justice as the rendering to each person what is his/her rights or dues.

-Justice reigns when people are able to enjoy their rights.

-A right is respect to someone. They are protective autonomy actions.

-Sociality belongs to the right to be treated a certain way - normative social relationships.

-Rights = worth, value, dignity of human beings; primarily we are loved by God and redeemingly loved by God. If you are deprived of your rights, you are being wronged.

-Rights talk, love talk, moral/duty talk - they all can be abused.

What if we tossed out the question of justice? Moral order has two dimensions - actor/receiver, giver/recipient, doer/done to. Talking in terms of right and wrong enables the person to talk about how they have been wronged - their moral conviction - enables the victim. If we only use obligation/duty language a wife could only say to her abusive husband "You are not living up to your moral duty." But with receiver language, the wife can also say, "I have been wrong."

The trumping force of rights is that I must, ought, treat you this way. Rights are a brake on paternalistic benevolence. 

And this is just what I was able to scribble down. Every word he said, every phrase, had weight. There was no fluff.  



Nicholas Wolterstorff :: What is Justice? from The Justice Conference on Vimeo.

There is a reason I don't have bumper stickers

Leaving work late I hurried across the river and hopped onto I-84, looping over to I-205. Class started at 7pm, could I get there on time? As my exit neared I had to make a choice - do I get behind the Ford Explorer that is only going maybe 50, or do I speed up and hope that I could dive in front of the slow poke? What to do with 1 mile to the exit? Of course the answer was speed up, tail-gate the vehicle in front of me and then quickly cross a couple lanes of traffic to get to the exit. As my car struggled to take the sharp turn of the exit at the speed I was going I chastised myself. Was that really necessary? What did I gain by that risky behavior? I felt like God was nudging me, "Why did you drive that way? What's behind it?" My answer doesn't make me look very good - I don't like to go slow, I don't like being behind people, and I really don't like having to submit to someone else. Oh... that last part is really not good. If I were respecting those around me I would have gotten behind the putt-putt, submitted my driving preference to theirs, creating a safer road for all of us. It is so hard to give up our independence, to humble ourselves and submit to someone else. If only people knew how to drive!

Tuesdays can be Thankful Days Too

I wasn't able to carve out the time to add to my thankful list yesterday, the multitude on Mondays. But you can be thankful on a Tuesday just as well as on Monday, right?

I am thankful...
30) That God's mercy and grace is new every morning, every moment.
31) For a warm welcome back at River West. Whether I was just visiting or staying is yet to be seen.
32) For an encouraging coach and roommate as I make life changes for good health.
33) For the people that make me laugh, because I love to laugh. And work would be dreadful without the characters who keep me entertained.
34) For second chances. Really thankful.
35) I was able to stop and watch a glorious numinous sunset from my desk this evening.

Lament for the lack of civility among single men

I need to read myself to sleep at night. Sometimes all I can manage is a few lines, but a few days ago I had not one but two sodas; I could handle more reading that night. I picked up the latest copy of Christianity Today and picked an article based solely on the title - "Sex Economics 101." Kind of catchy, isn't it? It got my attention; admit it, it would have grabbed yours too. The subtitle is "Mark Regnerus, the early-marriage sociologist, shares his latest research on young adults' sexual attitudes and behavior." I started to read it with a general curiosity given that I have worked and still do on occasion with teens and young adults. What intrigued me is that, while the researcher is focused on "emerging" adults, what he describes fits with my generation as well - the mid 30's-40's. And it helped interpret how I have been struggling with the results of online dating. Quite frankly, the article depressed me. After reading it I felt like it will be a phenomenal miracle of epic proportions if I ever get married.
Some key quotes:
"Historically, sex was a key motivator for men to marry. Try to reduce that tension, that function, and all hell breaks loose—which is what we are witnessing."


"Because whoever is the minority gender, so to speak, has more power, and especially in this sense, because women want marriage more than men do. So when there are more women in the pool, it lends itself to women competing for men rather than the other way around."


"This is not to suggest that men can't commit. They can, but they have to do so today in an environment of such rich choices. It makes it difficult for them."

The end of January I started corresponding with a fella, let's call him Doug. He seemed nice enough and decent, we exchanged a few emails, then I sent one that never got a response. He had mentioned that he was going on vacation so I waited. About a week and a half later, guessing he was back in town, I decided to drop him a short note just to get my name at the top of his inbox. Silence. But a couple days later he did send a message to my roomie. Yeah, scratch his name off the list. 

Then a couple weeks ago another guy contacted me, oddly enough with the same name - "Doug." Unlike Doug v.1, I was really intrigued by Doug v.2, I wanted to get to know him. As we exchanged emails my interest swelled. Finally! A decent normal guy that had real potential, not some foreigner scamming or gross 65 year old obviously using a form letter. No, Doug v.2 was intelligent, strong faith, thoughtful, considerate, kind, creative, with similar interests. Each email he sent left me saying "wowza!" He impressed me, knocked my socks off really. But he fell off the grid as well. I sent an email that has gone unanswered. [UPDATE 3/8/2011: Apparently my theory below about a demon in my email was correct. Doug v.2 had found my blog, read this post, and sent me an email explaining that he hadn't received my last email and thought I had just abruptly stopped writing. Isn't life funny. Yay! I get a second chance to get to know this guy.]

I'd like to explain it by saying there is a demon possessing my email and either preventing it from being delivered or warping the words in-between my drafting and the recipient reading it so that I sound like a crazy person. This is highly unlikely. A girl could get sensitive about her writing, especially since it's of a personal nature. But the more likely explanation is that in a gender imbalanced pool, where men, even mediocre men, have multitudes of women competing for them, I was dropped for the newer match, the next woman who might be prettier, funnier, sexier, smarter, more better in some way. Combine the 'women rich dating pool' with online dating where people aren't "real" yet and our throw-away consumerism society and it's a dangerous combination. With both Dougs they had been considerate and respectful, so why is it okay to be rude and just stop writing? No, we haven't met in person, but those weren't just some made up stories you were reading, they are the stories of a real person, a person who was being open and vulnerable. You've changed your mind, fine. I'm worth a final email saying 'thanks for your time and sharing, wish you all the best.' It is the decent thing to do, an act of civility, the behavior of a gentleman. But the more virtual and impersonal our world becomes, the faster common decency and civility, what used to be the norms of behavior, have eroded. To be fair, it isn't just single guys who are suffering this lack of decency. My mother recently had a party for which she sent an Evite, emails, and postcards - most of the women never even RSVP'ed. 
So here is today's lesson for the guys: be men, be gentlemen, be men of character and integrity - and that means ending things, even simple email exchanges, with respect and honor.


Last night my roomie and I watched the movie (500) Days of Summer. We laughed through most of it, although we couldn't quite believe the role reversal. Neither one of us could think of any girl who says she only wants to be friends and it is the guy pushing for a relationship. In our circle, it is the opposite - or the guy who wants the instant relationship, but that's another story (a good one too). There are two scenes that stand out. The first is after Tom and Summer have broken up, but they saw each other at a wedding of a mutual friend, she invites him to a party at her place. We see the party scene in split screen on the left is the party through Tom's "expectations" and on the right, "reality." It was hilarious! So clever! And so true. Our expectations are usually dramatically different than reality and the scene exploited that to great comic effect. The second scene I liked has Tom's friend Paul talking about his girlfriend who he has been dating since junior high. He says that his perfect dream girl would have a bigger rack, blond hair, be more into sports, etc., but then he pauses and says 'but Rachel (?) is better. She's real.' And that realization seems to be something that the guys I've been meeting need to have. I am tired of competing with a fantasy, or the allure of 'the next one will be perfect.' Guess it is a good thing that overall, I don't mind being single and sometimes even enjoy it.

Pickles

There are dill pickles, sweet pickles, pickle relish, a glass pickle ornament that goes on my tree every year, gherkins, a former co-worker whose nickname was pickles, and then there are Jennie pickles. The pickles I get myself into. And boy do I know how to get myself into some good ones! Most often my pickles are self-created by not choosing my words wisely, letting them tumble out of my mouth with no filter, without stepping into the receiving end to see how they feel. Whoever came up with the phrase, "Stick and stones will break my bones, but words will never hurt me." is a big fat stinking liar! Words cause some of the most terrific damage.

Little over two years ago I got myself into one of the grandest pickles yet. Sadly, it nearly destroyed one of my longest dearest friendships. Despite the mess I made of things, with grace, forgiveness and tenacity, we have trudged forward. Cautious and scared of hurting one another again, it was uncomfortable, awkward and felt pretty much horrible. It would have been so much easier to let contact peter out, become only Christmas card friends, and blame the distance on other life changes - a move to the country, changes in social circles, life situations. But 16 years of friendship was too valuable to lose. We chose, mutually, to fight for restoration. Friday night we got together for dinner, I fed her stew that was much too spicy for her liking but was packaged up for the husband to enjoy. Chatting, sharing, laughing we had a delightful time. I asked a hard question, she took the answer a different direction. I asked the question again later. Long pause. "The short answer we tell everyone is..., but what is really going on is..." Previous hesitation made sense, she wasn't sure it was safe to share with me, would she be hurt by my careless words yet again? But she did share, opening her tender heart to me, to share her true self. My response was unfiltered, unchecked - but one of compassion and empathy, assurance. With the establishment of safety, more could be shared, hearts opened. Friendship healing, wounds no longer raw - or at least not quite as raw.
26. I'm thankful for a friendship that spans that last 18 years. That has weathered severe storms and continues forward to repair the broken parts of relationship, and reflect God's healing powers.

I routinely get into pickles with my brother. It would be a monumental challenge to find two people more different - other than the parents. Between the four of us we have all four compass points of a personality map covered. It makes for some interesting family dynamics, and those between Chris and I tend to be explosive. While he can give it out better than anyone I know, he can't take it. Especially from me. He can rip me to pieces and be slightly mean about it, but what he says is so funny that I'm crying with laughter. I make one sarcastic remark to him and I get the silent treatment for months. Sunday I made up a batch of cookies, Momofuku chocolate chip cornflake marshmallow cookies, he had asked me to figure out a recipe for them as a Christmas gift for his girlfriend. They are very tasty! I sent him a text with a picture of the cookies from yesterday cooling on the sheet with the message: "Curse you for introducing me to these devilish things!" His response was his address. On my lunch break today I sent him a box of cookies.
27. Despite how many times we wound each other, we are still family, we still make it right; I still love him like crazy, even when he drives me there. Hope that a day will come when we have a good relationship.

I got myself into a minor pickle just yesterday, perhaps a gherkin. I was trying to tease a friend in an email, but she took me literally. Opps. Didn't she see the smiley face? Didn't she know I was joking? Guess not... another learning opportunity for me to choose words carefully.
28. Large and small, big deals and small deals, misunderstandings and deep wounds - all provide the opportunity to grow, be refined, learn to show and receive grace and mercy, to gain new insight into what it means to have godly character and a chance to practice it, practice humility.

Not all my pickles involve other people. I manage to get myself into pickles with myself. (That sounds weird, like I'm taking a bath in pickles.) I had to do something for professional development at work. Since my job is becoming much more project oriented, I enjoy working on projects, and it seems to fit with my skills, I decided to sign up for a project management class. I am in over my head. The class is geared for someone with significant experience leading projects. That is not me - yet. It may never be if I don't pass this class. Due to my amazing powers of procrastination and over-committing, I have had to start cramming to get it done. The stress has been weighty as other responsibilities have been neglected to study, cookies have been made instead of studying, and the stress increases - to the point that I was about to cry from sheer frustration last night with my mediocre grade on quiz 3.
29. Even when I can't seem to learn a lesson for the umpteenth time, God is gracious to me. Knowing I just may crack from the stress this time, He provided a pressure valve release - a six month extension to finish the course. Thank you!! (Now all of you, hold me accountable to get the class finished by mid-May, otherwise I'm going to be back in this same situation in September.)

Justice Conference - Part 1: : Ken Wytsma : : Why Justice

A couple weekends ago the roommate and I trudged over to Bend for The Justice Conference sponsored by World Relief. It was an inaugural event, so I'll admit that my expectations were fairly low. I recognized a few names on the roster of speakers but not most. The pre-conference breakout sessions were interesting but sitting all day listening to speakers in my sleep deprived state was a challenge. I loaded up on caffeine to make it through the evening; the official start of the conference. But I was so enthralled with the two speakers that evening I think I would have managed to stay awake without any chemical help. The conference as a whole knocked my socks off and sent them to orbit, it was so good. I'm still mulling over what was said, processing the insights gained; as an aide in doing so I want to post the key thoughts I picked up on from each speaker and the video. I would gladly welcome dialoguing and hearing your views on any of the topics.

First up, to kick off the conference, was Ken Wytsma, the pastor of Antioch Church in Bend. His title was "Why Justice." Below is the video of his session.
Here are some of the key thoughts I picked up on during his talk:

• Justice is mercy. 
• We can't fix the world, but we can change the world.
• Choosing to intervene and fight for justice is messy, you lose out on the benefits of a just society and have to pour your life into the mess of injustice.
• There are three reasons for justice:
• Biblical: the sense that we ought to, but guilt holds us back.
• Religious: we should fight for justice because of love, but the cost will often stop us.
• Personal: God has given us a calling, but confusion and/or fear keeps us immobile.
• Empathy comes before action, concern is part of our love.
• Service is love in work clothes - action through which love is manifest
• It is so much better to invest your life for justice, than to spend it improving your golf game. 
•  If we give our life to God and spend it on justice, we gain our life.

Ken Wytsma :: Why Justice? from The Justice Conference on Vimeo

Freakazoid Friday

Friday nights are traditionally date night. I would not know about this, but that is what I've learned from media. I guess you could say I have a date tonight, my friend Kim is coming over for dinner. Does that count? No. As much as I love Kim, she doesn't count.

I am still hopeful that this ridiculous online dating may end my long run of dateless Friday nights. But it will not be with this one dude that surfaced this week. This is a borrowed story, but completely true. Let me tell you about "Dwight" (name changed to protect me from legal action) - Dwight the dweeb. He has quite the list of what he is looking for in a potential spouse. Having a list of key aspects that are critically important is good. Chances are you know yourself and know what will compliment you, what will drive you insane, which values you must agree on, etc. But Dwight has taken it to a whole new level. Some of his points are okay, but most of his criteria is absurd and would make for good folly all on its own. The real topper is that this dude had the audacity to send a message to my friend, not to get to know her or ask her out, but to ask if any of her friends would meet his requirements, he may want to date them if so. The guy is an idiot! Am I being too harsh? No, not at all. Read his list and you'll agree:

• An athlete and has lived a disciplined lifestyle. 
• Loves the commands of God and God-ordained roles for marriage. She is not afraid of submission to the Lord or her husband. If so, please grow spiritually first so that you don't set your marriage up for failure or great difficulty. Marriage is difficult enough without one or both people not being spiritually mature. 
• She is a college grad and probably between 28-38 and doesn't have any major baggage. 
• Someone who has saved herself for marriage, thus no kids, no STD's ever (all should be tested prior to any seriousness in a relationship if you don't trust they are truly a virgin). 
• Someone who isn't a musician/artist/singer/theater type of person nor a pentecostal, charistmatic, or catholic or any denomination close to them.
• I am attracted to the slender/toned types, not the overweight types, which includes being significantly overweight at any time in the past. 
• Someone who doesn't wear eyewear. 
• I don't want any pets and I'm open to 0-2 kids, not more. 
• She not only has to be debt-free but have at least 10's of thousands saved up already to show her frugality and her financial preparedness NOW and in the past for godly marriage. Sadly, most have failed in this area. And finances are the biggest problems in a marriage so be smart, live simple now and invest now for your marriage. 
• I don't drink alcohol or coffee. I'm not a sweets person, either. I'd like to eat more healthy than I do, so that is something I'd look for as well, but not a health nut, either. 
• I'm not interested in women who have piercings in places other than their ears. I'm not into jewelry so it doesn't impress me to see it on others, just as I'm not materialistic, so I don't care for someone who loves to dress up or wear expensive clothes, shoes, etc. Money should be saved and invested for important things in life, not on immediate gratification, which is materialism. Immediate gratification is a sign of spiritual immaturity. 
• As I mentioned, I'm looking for a spiritually mature, athletic woman.

With a list like this I am thinking he is the one with serious major baggage issues, which is why he doesn't want a wife with baggage. He doesn't want someone who is ever going to grow old, because eventually everyone needs glasses. Dwight needs his partner to have lots of money so that he can mooch off of her. I'm amused that he groups pets and children together as if they are nearly one in the same. He wants someone who is spiritually mature to make up for his immaturity, selfishness and vanity, but if they are mature, they should also be wise enough to run as fast as they can away from him.

I make no apologies for today's bashing. He actually makes me irate and I only try to laugh at him to keep from blowing a gasket. I've known Dwights and they are dangerous people - manipulative, controlling, abusive, people. I've been witness to the havoc they can wreck in a person's life; and the wake of destruction they leave in their path is horribly messy. But don't take it from me, a girl who would not have an ounce of credibility in the eyes of Dwight, take it from Mark Driscoll - a godly man's man. He tells it like it is in this sermon:

Vanished!!

I just have to share this amazing story. My Bible study leader had not been feeling well but she ignored it. Figuring it was just kidney stones she didn't mention it to her husband; he had enough on his plate preparing to lead a missions trip to India. A day or two after he left for regions half way around the world she went to the doctor. No, it wasn't kidney stones. More tests were run. Tests that revealed a large mass. The dreaded word was spoken: cancer. The husband was finally told and was sent home early from the trip. Plans were made and the surgery explained, although scheduled for several weeks out. She came to Bible study last week and with a choked up voice told us the news and asked us to pray for an earlier surgery date of March 6th. But more than that, that God would use her in this circumstance to reach her neighbors. She is just that kind of person, surrendered. Tonight - a week later - all of the women at Bible study let out a whoop and holler when it was announced that she had had surgery today (there had been a cancellation) and the astonishing part - the doctors couldn't find a trace of cancer or a mass or anything abnormal. The mass and the cancer had vanished!! Glory! Glory! Hallelujah! God is great!!!

Multitude Monday - Enough

The questions below from Ann Voskamp's post today gave me pause.  In my western consumerism mindset, where I'm planning and budgeting for the next home improvement project, a little jealous of the new car I passed today while mine rattles and talks to me, my eyes linger over a shirt that I tell myself is too expensive in a newly arrived catalog, could I tell myself - "Enough. I have enough. God has provided all that I need." At church last night I was distracted and read ahead in the chapter, Matthew 6. Pastor wasn't speaking from verses 19-34 last night, but that is what ministered to me in the midst of the service. How appropriate of a follow-up is Ann's post today. 'Do not store up for yourselves treasures that rust and rot... Trust in your LORD to provide for your needs today. He takes care of the birds and the flowers of the fields, you who are so much more precious, will surely be taken care of too.' (Jenn's paraphrased version) 

What if we believe we have everything we need?

What if we really believe we have everything we need?

What if thanks in all things actually could be easy — because we believe that God always gives us the thing we exactly need?

What if gratitude was as natural as breathing, because we knew in our bones that the air we breathe is grace? 

Thank you Lord for the ways you have provided for me today, for all the ways I have enough...
16. I have been blessed immeasurably.
17. A momma who laughs at my silliness and jokes; validating my funny bone.
18. For a heart that is still tender, able to be unguarded and love with abandon. My precious boys.
19. A conscience that can be pricked, and will yield to your chisel of grace.
20. A desire for justice that is enough to overcome the fear.
21. Timely words from a friend.
22. Friends that are dear as family, and family I would choose as friends.
23. A home that is warm and cozy, filled with hand-me-down furniture that all works together.
24. Songs from years long gone that come back to remind me of your truth. And the new verse you taught me, "Oh, be careful little heart what you love, for the Father up above is jealous for your love, oh be careful little heart who you love."
25. Delight in small and silly things that brighten a dull day - the sound of my whistling "Father Abraham" in the ladies bathroom at work.

Wading into Murky Waters

A couple months ago Sarah and I decided to give online dating a whirl... again. While neither one of us have had much (or any) success in the past, we have had several friends who are married with the help of an online service. What did we have to lose? Maybe we meet someone nice, have a date, maybe even meet a mate, but at the very least we have a good story. One of the best parts of online dating services is the entertainment value; the profiles alone are entertaining. Sarah and I have been taking advantage of trial days and free "communication events" so it hasn't even cost us a dime; of course you get what you pay for. Recently I was sent a match that surpassed anything I had seen before and is now the epitome of what not to put on your profile. It's just too good not to share. (And if you're thinking of making a profile, heed my advice.)

First off, for the question of "What are you most passionate about?" Even if you are a total techno-geek, it is not advisable to list your favorite TV shows, especially if it includes the Cartoon Network, and all your favorite genres of movies. And it's even worse when you follow it with "Xbox" and a list of your favorite games. But the topper is when he repeats this list under "What I can't live without." Yes, apparently this guy can't live without his Xbox, the History & Sci-Fi Channel, and FNC - I'm guessing another TV channel. All together it portrays you as a couch potato/TV junkie - and for the vast majority of women, all the women I know, that is not attractive. It's a total turn-off. I'm all for being honest, and if that really is what you are most passionate about, best wishes for finding that rare anomaly of a women who also enjoys that lifestyle and those past-times.

Here is another tip - learn how to wordsmith and put a positive spin on traits that you feel you need to share in your profile that may not be desirable. Remember, you are trying to put your best foot forward and make a good impression with your profile. Admittedly it feels awkward, like you are marketing yourself, but that is exactly what you are doing. Just like you present your best self in your resume and in an interview for a job; in dating you need to present your best self. Here is an example of what not to say: 'I'm socially awkward and don't like small groups of people... I am often thought of as pretentious." I suppose he should get points for being blatantly honest but combined with the Cartoon Network and Xbox fascination, this guy is acing himself out of the dating scene. I'm sure he is a nice, decent, good guy who is lonely and truly wants to have a relationship, but he isn't painting a good picture of himself. And in the online virtual word, you are judged and measured solely on your written description of yourself and photos; there is no context to help shape interpretation. Being a freebie user I can't see pictures, so in this instance it's only the words that count.

I'm feeling quite ungenerous to this poor fella that I've just ripped apart - and I could go on with other examples from his profile. So what would I suggest to him? First off, don't list your favorite TV shows, movie genres and video games in what you are most passionate about. If you feel it's necessary to list specifics, do so under the question of how you typically spend your leisure time. And if you can, move all references to TV and video games to that section. It may be how you spend the bulk of your leisure time, but is it really what you are most passionate about? Elsewhere he talks very highly of his family, that would be a great thing to put under the passionate category - "I am passionate about maintaining strong family relationships and investing time and myself into building up my mother and sister, being there for them." Now, that would be attractive. As for the socially awkward comment, that's a tough nut to crack, especially without knowing how it manifests. Maybe something like... "Small group settings are not my forte; I prefer larger groups where I can be more of an observer." Or, "I prefer being one-on-one where I can really open up and share." Highlight was does work for you, not what doesn't. Really. Is it any wonder that Sarah and I are still single?

Those are my online dating tips of the week. I hope you have enjoyed them and find them useful - for entertainment purposes. I've got more to come, lots more, so stay tuned. Sarah and I are out there to bring back the best to you!

Is romance in the air? Or just the fumes of gasoline?

A few weeks ago I made a comment on Facebook that the dating lives of my roommate and I should be made into a reality TV show; that I find it extremely amusing. The comment was met with enthusiastic responses. While I may not be able to pull together a TV show, I can post the occasionally blog with the more entertaining escapades. Valentine's Day seemed like the perfect time to start. So with no more introduction...

Okay, maybe a little more introduction... a refresher. I have an admirer. I call him Manuel. I'm not entirely sure that is his name, but that is what is etched on his name tag. He works at the Chevron station just down the street from my home. I wrote about him previously in "Manuel, Applicant for Boyfriend." I know you're overjoyed that there is another installment.

A dark evening last week (when is it not dark in the evening this time of year?) I needed gas for my car and was low enough that I needed to go to the station nearest my house. Slowly pulling into the gas station I stare down the attendant to see if it is my grande amor, Manuel. I don't recognize the fellow and was a mixture of relief and disappointment - he is entertaining afterall. Stepping out of the car I walk over to the island and grab the window-washer-scrubber-squeegee thing and start scrubbing my front window. My whole car needed to be washed. Badly. But until I could get that done, cleaning off the windows so that I could see would have to suffice. Just after starting on the drivers side of the windshield I hear a voice beside me with a Latin inflection, "What are you doing?" Turning to the voice I am greeted with the sight of my favorite gas station attendant. Had he been there when I drove up? Did I not recognize my best admirer? "I'm washing the window." I answered wondering if I could just stop and dash back into my car for protection. "Do you want to work here?" he asked with a chuckle. I pass him my debit card and ask him to fill it up with regular.

As he fitted the nozzle into the tank he told me it was his birthday. After a long pause during which I debated internally whether to wish him a happy birthday in Spanish or not (would I botch it? would he be offended?) I wished him "Happy birthday!" (in English). By now I had started working on cleaning the back window and Manuel was standing behind my car so I tried to make small talk, "So how old are you?" "What? Why do you ask?" "Because you said it was your birthday." "Why do you want to know?"  "I was just asking." I began to suspect that maybe it wasn't his birthday, but then again, maybe it was and he was unwilling to admit his age.

To avoid talking about his age, Manuel asked "Are you new here? You have not been here before." Oh! How shocking! My heartthrob didn't remember me! It was like a stab in the heart. Okay, not really. It had been many, many months since I had seen him so it wasn't that surprising he didn't remember me, the one he previously had claimed to love. With such a large gap of time since I had seen him, I actually wondered if he had been deported. But here he was standing in front of me trying to get out of me where I live and asking me to come join him for a birthday drink of tequila after he got off work.

Alas, my windows were washed and the tank filled, it was time to say good-bye. But not without a hug! Service at the Chevron is affectionate. Before I knew what was happening I was being squeezed tightly, his stubble painfully feeling like a porcupine against my cheek. "Only because it's your birthday!" I said as I wiggled out of his grip. He said he would see me later for tequila. I got back into my car and as I drove off returned his wave with a smile. Still smelling his cologne as I took off my coat to hang on the hook in the garage I chuckled. Oh, Manuel, you are just so amusing, but I think you have been inhaling the gasoline fumes too long.

Monday's Thankful list - How God loves me!

I am thankful for how God loves me through...
8.) A Momma who still gives me Valentine's Day gifts and treats even though I'm 37 and should have outgrown it long ago (I hope I never outgrow it though.).
9.) The treat being a yummy chocolate raspberry heart shaped cake and sharing it with my delightful roomie.
10.) Pops cleaning out my car while we switched this weekend.
11.) A cousin willing to step into the gap if needed.
12.) My warm, cozy, soft & squishy bed to envelope me in my sleep deprived state.
13.) Texts to my roomie from someone special.
14.) A sparkly pink box with treats and a Veggie Tales valentine tapped to the front left on my doorstep this morning by a friend.
15.) Friendship with and love of my Micah boys!

Attitude of Gratitude

I've been inspired by Ann Voskamp at www.aholyexperience.com  to start my own "1000 Gifts of Thanks" - so here it goes:
1) Being able to start the day with a hot shower and hot coffee.
2) For a roommate to help bring perspective and wisdom in how to word a tricky response.
3) How can I not be thankful for Jon each and every business day, my occupational partner who keeps me laughing, who makes the days enjoyable.
4) That even though my heart is smarting a bit with the pain of unexplained rejection, I am loved and cherished by my Father.
5) I am so thankful for our new office, that I am now near a window, and one with a view. No longer relegated to a cave unaware of the world outside. I can watch the majesty of the sun breaking around a storm cloud.
6) For shared laughter with my roommate as we eat dinner and enjoy the folly of the Bachelor.
7) A big gift of thanks for two six year old girls who came over for a sleepover this weekend and covered my fridge with their artwork and filled my heart with joy.

A Well of Words

The last month and a half has been a roller coaster. Days filled with heartache over a friend's home-going. Days of laughter too. Days filled with the ho-hum doldrums of routine work and fast-paced new and exciting work as well. Days of reunion of far-away friends, and making new friends. Days full of learning new things, being reminded of  truths forgotten. Days filled with so much activity it has led to utter-exhaustion.
The days have been full, too full to take the time to write, and without having an outlet of expression and the time to process some of the recent events my insides feel like someone has dropped a handful of Mentos into soda and put a cap on it all.

Words are a funny thing. I like to say that words are not my native tongue as explanation for my hearing issues. In conversations with people, I'm often at a lack for words. My roommate is starting to learn that she needs to give me ample time to process, so that I can find the words to express my opinion and thoughts.Yet, without the ability to process and express myself with written words I am all out of sorts.

Words are important, but the Word of God is the most important of all. And for months now I have been given reminders from varied sources, both subtle and blatant like a sledge hammer, of how critical it is to hide God's Word in my heart. While memorization is incredibly difficult for me, I am determined to make it a habit. A daunting task. I'm starting with re-committing to memory Psalm 100. And once I have it down again, move on, maybe starting with chapter 1, verse 1 and memorize an entire book of the Bible. It feels impossible, but absolutely necessary. To live with and dwell of God's Word, letting it transform, renew, mold my heart and mind. To have a resource built in of life giving words, truth to ruminate on, words of strength for the battle, is a treasure worth the hard work required to build such a repository. With every scripture that I etch in my mind, the deeper the well of words to draw from. Encouragement and help is welcome. And so I start:

Psalm 100
¹ Shout for joy to the LORD, all the earth.
 ² Worship the LORD with gladness;
   come before him with joyful songs.
³ Know that the LORD is God.
   It is he who made us, and we are his;
   we are his people, the sheep of his pasture.
 ⁴ Enter his gates with thanksgiving
   and his courts with praise;
   give thanks to him and praise his name.
⁵ For the LORD is good and his love endures forever;
   his faithfulness continues through all generations.

A Very Holy Night

I have admitted to my slight obsession with Christmas music before. I simply love Christmas music. But this year I have only purchased one new album plus one song – I have a weakness for anything Jack Johnson, even if it's "Rudolph". It is a miniscule, almost negligible amount, especially in comparison to previous years. But it is part of a larger symptomatic problem – the lack of Christmas cheer. I have been suffering from general malaise, a bit of the Grinch has crept into my heart this year.


With the lack of fresh music I have been listening to K103 in the car; the station plays Christmas music all day every day from Thanksgiving until Christmas day. This year, with my glum outlook, I have listened more critically to the music that comes through my rattley speakers. One song caught my attention and I couldn't help but think about how the lyrics reflected some seriously bizarre theology:

Hang your stockings and say a prayer…

He doesn't care if you're a rich or poor boy,
He loves you just the same.
Santa knows that we're God's children,
That makes everything right.

Peace on Earth will come to all
If we just follow the light
Let's give thanks to the Lord above,
'Cause Santa Claus comes tonight.

Do you recognize the song? Are you singing along now to "Here Comes Santa Claus"? I've sung this song countless times, but had never thought of the ramifications of what it is saying. Is Santa Claus one of God's 'agents'? How does Santa know that we're God's children and how does that make everything right? We're to thank God for Santa Clause? It is weird, to say the least. This year all of the "fun" fluffy silly Christmas songs have left a sour taste in my spirit. I have been craving the hymns and songs that reflect the true reason of Christmas. I need to be reminded of what we are actually celebrating. I need to get back to Jesus.

Another song also caught my attention, but for the reason of its theology being good and sound, reflecting the nature of the season, and this year I feel the truth of it more than in years past.

Long lay the world in sin and error pining,

'Til He appear'd and the soul felt its worth.

A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices,

For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn.

"Until the soul felt its worth" – that phrase from "O, Holy Night" struck me like a lightning bolt one day. Until the soul felt its worth – my soul felt its worth – my soul has worth – because Christ came, my soul can know its worth - my soul has worth to God, so much worth that Christ came as a little baby to redeem it – my soul has worth because Christ assigned it, by His proxy. What a marvelous thing! Let us rejoice, be thrilled with the hope that Christ has given us, for no longer are we chained by sin and wayward; we should offer up a proper response:

Fall on your knees…

Sweet hymns of joy in grateful chorus raise we,

Let all within us praise His holy name.

Christ is the Lord! O praise His Name forever,

His power and glory evermore proclaim.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/O_Holy_Night - this link has some interesting historical background on "O, Holy Night" as well as different translations.

Feelings of Failure

This evening I went to the Christmas program for the Spanish Fellowship at church. I have been attending the Spanish Fellowship most Sundays since the fall. While I tend to baffle the people with my presence, especially when I give the 'deer in headlights' look to whomever talks to me, they are gracious to let me join them. Lupita was one such person. A kind faced older lady that sat next to me one evening. After the service she turned to me and started rattling away in Spanish with such rapidity I couldn't make out a single word. I panicked. I couldn't even think of the words to say "I don't understand." I just stared at her blankly trying to recall any Spanish at all. Thankfully she asked in English, "You don't understand?" "No, I'm learning Spanish." "You do not know Spanish?" "Very little." "But you understand the pastor." "No, not really." "You do not understand the pastor??!!" "No, I get the big idea, that is all." I tried to explain that I am learning Spanish and I need to hear it and be surrounded by it. She was utterly confused as to why I would come spend 2-3 hours on a Sunday evening at a Spanish service when I don't understand what is being said. Tonight, I would have agreed with Lupita, I am a bit crazy. It was a rough night and my Northwest Americana culture made it jarringly obvious that I was out of place. Pride goes before a fall. As I walked in to the chapel I was greeted by familiar faces, who in turn recognized me as a familiar face. Between my trip to Honduras, holiday events, and special events at church scheduled for Sunday evening it has been six weeks since I have been to the Spanish service, so I was thrilled that I was remembered; maybe even a little prideful that I was starting to 'belong' to this group. The chapel was unusually packed for a Sunday evening, but it was the special Christmas program.

I have observed that in Latino culture, it is not expected that during events, such as a church service or graduation ceremony, you are to sit quietly in your chair. Instead, ladies talk, people are constantly getting up, moving about, children are free to do just about whatever at any volume without being hushed or scolded to "be quiet" or "be still." Frankly, I don't understand this aspect of the culture. I would love it if someone could explain it to me. Through my lens I see it as disrespectful of whoever is speaking and of those around who would like to be able to give their attention to the speaker. But I don't think in Latino culture it is a sign of disrespect. I really don't get it. On a normal Sunday I have learned to sit towards the front on the left hand side, as that is where more of the serious adults sit, and therefore tends to be quieter; unlike the rear right hand side where the young teenage girls sit and talk in un-hushed tones throughout the entire service. On a good day, due to my hearing issues, I have trouble listening to one person and tuning out any other voices and noise. Add in listening to another language and the difficulty quadruples. Tonight, sitting in the balcony, it was nearly impossible. It was an evening of chaotic noise. Children were running back and forth in the balcony, up and down the stairs, each step a loud hollow thudding sound, crying, giggles, squeals of play, and the constant hum of chatter nearly blocked out the noise coming through the speakers of the singers and the actors performing on stage. All the noise pained my ears, made my head ache, and my heart race with the agitation. After 30 minutes I started checking my watch, wondering if I could just slip out. I battled the urge to holler, "SHUT UP AND SIT DOWN!!" I started praying, "Lord, help me. I'm starting to lose it." An internal battle was waging. I tried to deflect the battle by trying to surmise what this behavior reflected, tried to find the rational explanation of how the adults around me were seemingly un-phased by the cacophony going on around them; all the while telling myself to keep my butt in the pew and not to runaway. After all, this is their culture, it isn't going to change, I am the outsider who needs to learn how to cope and adapt. I lasted another hour, until after the drama was finished and the pastor's wife had given a short sermon. When someone started explaining about the gifts for the children I grabbed my coat and purse and slipped out. I walked down the stairs of the balcony to see a young child in the planter area with a cup scooping out the white rocks and tossing some on the floor. Where were his parents? I wanted to scream. Stepping into the cool moist night air, the noise level immediately dropping to a quiet hush, I could feel the wave of calm come over me and my heart rate slow to a normal level. Letting out a deep sigh, the self-recriminations quickly flooded the quiet space. "How do you think you can live in Honduras? You can't just leave when you are living in the culture. You failed tonight."

The feeling of failure is burdening my heart tonight. I know there is some truth to my reproaches, but also that satan is twisting that truth to make it worse. Yes, there will be points of conflict between two differing cultures and I will need to learn how to manage those points better. But no one gets it perfect all the time, especially when they are first encountering a new culture. There will be other times when I want to walk out into the quiet of the night like I did tonight, but will be unable to, and how I respond then will be more of an indication of whether I'm failing or not. For now it is enough to start recognizing that this is going to be a point of contention between myself and Latino culture, and to start finding ways to adjust and minimize the friction. Lord, help!

Prayer for Sunday

Taken from "scientia et sapientia" - the blog of Western Seminary's Th.M. program, posted by Marc Cortez (click on the title of the post to see the original blog post):

O Lord our God, you wanted to live not only in heaven, but also with us, here on earth; not only to be high and great, but also to be small and lowly, as we are; not only to rule, but also to serve us; not only to be God in eternity, but also to be born as a person, to live, and to die.

In your dear Son, our Savior Jesus Christ, you have given us none other than  yourself, that we may wholly belong to you. This affects all of us, and none of us has deserved this. What remains for us to do but to wonder, to rejoice, to be thankful, and to hold fast to what you have done for us?

We ask you to let this be the case in this hour, among us and in all of us! Let us become a proper Christmas community in honest, open, and willing praying and singing, speaking and hearing, and let us in great hunger be a proper Communion community! Amen.
~Karl Barth (1886-1968)

New Insights

It has been a quiet week at work with Jon out all week. I've become very accustomed to his presence and it has been missed. But I do have a good Jon story that I have been saving up, so in honor of his birthday last week, here it is:

Jon and I started ambling towards the elevators, embarking on our daily trek across the street to Starbucks. As we pass Joan's office Jon glances in at her office and exclaims, "Oh, she's got Christmas lights up! I freakin' love it! We have them up in our room too." I was startled at such a strong declaration, but quickly started laughing. A love of Christmas twinkle lights doesn't exactly jive with the dyed black hair, tattooed hard rocker persona of Jon; although I know him to be a complete goof-ball. What did make perfect sense was that he was just now noticing the lights Joan had strung up in her office for Halloween - the lights were, after all, purple and orange. Yes, Jon is Mr. Observant. It is several days after Halloween and he is just now noticing. When prodded he confessed that he and Melissa strung up white twinkle lights around the bedroom over the weekend. But his favorite type are the bubble candle lights. He continually surprises me.

And now, a few other random work related stories for your enjoyment at my expense.

I went to lunch with some co-workers the other week. As we drove back to the office Bryan and Steve were talking about a home that was for sale. This quickly deteriorated into why Lake Oswego is so awful and why no one in the car would want to buy a house here. To which someone made the smart remark:
"Excuse me your entitlement is showing!"

I started to feel a little picked on, after all, wasn't I a product of Lake Oswego? I felt compelled to stand-up for my hometown. To which Kristi tried to comfort me with this:
"I recognize that you grew-up in Lake Oswego, but I will not acknowledge it. You do not fit the LO stereotype; you're nice and sweet and don't look down on everyone."

Really Lake Oswego isn't that bad, is it? Sure the school song sounds a little superior -"...stands a school in Lake Oswego ranked among the best. Lake High standards will not fail..." Pshaw! We are sooo not elitist! We're just the best. A fact is a fact.

Sharing a kitchen with everyone on the floor can be rather annoying. Especially when a portion of your coworkers are young wet-behind-the-ear "men." These boy-men don't understand the logic of rinsing dishes before putting them in the dishwasher. That is if the dishes make it that far. And they certainly do not have a clue as to the science of how to load a dishwasher. I try to squelch my OCD tendencies and only take care of my own paraphernalia. But some days, it can't be helped, I have to do the dishes and rearrange the dishwasher to suit my methodology. On one such afternoon my co-worker Adam came in and thanked me and mentioned that it also bugs him. I teasingly said, "These young guys haven't figured out that their mother doesn't work here!" After a dramatic pause, a deep inhale, slowly, as if speaking a deep wisdom, Adam said "I think their mother does work here. Think on that!" Oh, dear!

One of the projects that I have been working on this fall reached a major milestone so the project manager decided we should celebrate. The team was very kind to postpone the celebration until after my trip to Honduras. We all left work early and went to this place called "Players" which is part bar, part games. I had to wander around a bit before I found the group upstairs playing pool, already working on their first drink. I knew that Wei, a co-worker, had left the office at the same time as me, but she was no where to be found. About five minutes after I joined the group, Wei did as well. She had gotten lost and had trouble finding the group too, but she had some help, "I heard your laugh and followed it to find the team."

Riding in the Rapidito

The boys had spent the whole day at Villa Linda Miller, working on digging out the trenches for the foundation of Roger’s house; I had only joined them after lunch. The blister on my thumb proved I had put in some work, shoveling dirt and rocks that Miguel had loosened with the pick-ax. I even took a turn wielding the pick-ax as well, but hit a big rock and sent the head spinning. Those of us still at the work site slowly came to a halt around 4 pm, all but Axelito who had spent a good block of time after lunch lazing around was still busy. I dug into my backpack, below my camera bag, and pulled out a fistful of fun-size Skittles packages. Handing a package to David who was standing in front of me, he quietly asked for all of them. I possessed a great treasure in my hands. Too tired to stand up and hand the Skittles to the others I started pitching them. David tried to intercept them but lack of height and the need to be wary of the trenches prevented him from snagging any but those that I threw at him. Spastic Miguel managed to snag most of them, but he was good at making sure others got their share, passing around what he caught. It perked people up a little, but not enough to get back to work.

Shortly after wards we packed up for the day, loading the tools into the two wheelbarrows and slowly trekked back to the medical clinic where the tools would be stored until the next day. Having stashed the tool we walked down to the soccer court where the guys stood behind one goal watching the current game and playing with a dead headless snake. The weight of my backpack and tired arms led me to find a place to sit. Taking a cue from the Micah boys I pulled out my Shuffle and stuffed my earphones loosely into my ears. Sitting on the stone step listening to Mercy Me I admired a nearby house that is painted pink and let my thoughts drift to imagining my life in a few more years living in VLM or nearby. Ideas of how to be part of the community, having weekly dinners for smaller groups of the boys, growing vegetables, using the pink house as a base designing my house and wondering if Juanca could build a trellis, I also decided I should have a dog. My reverie and name picking for my future dog was broken by Miguel and David coming to beg for more candy. Before I could reach through the layers to fish out more the rapidito van appeared and Roger and all the guys started piling in. Since none in the group spoke any usable English I had to take that as my cue that this was our transportation back into the city. “Henny-fair, aqui! Aqui!” Miguel yelled out from the back row of the van with a vigorous patting of the seat next to him. I wrangled myself and my bag into the back seat next to Miguel who is alternately very cool and ignores me or is overly affectionate. While he had been mostly ignoring me all afternoon, he suddenly turned affectionate when I sat down. Despite being hot and dirty he sat right up beside me and pulled my arm around his shoulders. It was actually helpful as I could grab the end of the bench seat and brace myself as we went over bumps and around corners. We sat there both with our own mp3 players going. It wasn’t long before Miguel became curious about what I was listening to. Picking up the earbud that I wasn’t using, he stuffed it into his ear. His face registered complete surprise. I don’t think he expected to hear what he did. My shuffle has all of my faster, more rock style music as I use it to keep my tempo up when working out. I can’t remember what song was playing at the time, but it was one of the more driving songs that I have loaded. I don’t know what kind of music he thought I would be listening to, but it certainly wasn’t what he heard. He took control of my Shuffle pressing fast-forward after listening to three or five seconds of a song. Miguel was surprised again when he came across songs from Los Micah Boys; he actually listened to half a song of theirs before hitting fast-forward again. His face was really quite amusing as my music tastes continued to surprise him as he sampled most of my music. But Miguel managed to surprise me as well. Since I use my shuffle to workout, not all of the songs are heart-thumpers, some songs are on there for cool-downs. One song is Hillsong’s “Stronger.” It has kind of been an anthem for the Micah house this year. Michael Miller had played it for me in August and I downloaded it shortly thereafter. To my surprise this is the song Miguel stopped on. At Micah they have been singing it in Spanish, my version is in English, but no matter. Miguel didn’t push fast-forward, we listened to the whole song from start to finish. I was quietly singing along, which elicited a broad grin from Miguel when he caught me and him moving an ear a little closer so that he could hear me as well. As soon as the song was over, he went back to his speedy fast-forwarding until it was time to get out of the van.

It may sound strange, maybe it is, maybe I’m making more out of it, but the fact that he wanted to listen to all of that song, that particular song, despite being in English, caused some “motherly” pride to well up in me. I would like to think that it shows some depth, some serious connection to his own spiritual life. It’s a song he knows well, he knows the words, it would have been easy to blow by it as ‘that old same familiar over-used song’ but he didn’t. I hope it means the words still have meaning and impact, are sinking in to the deeper conscious, helping him know and believe that God is stronger and capable of doing great things in his life, that Miguel is making Jesus Lord of his precious life.

Chorus:
You are stronger, You are stronger
Sin is broken, You have saved me
It is written, Christ is risen,
Jesus, You are Lord of all.