Alright this is going to sound a little weird but... I had this dream a couple of weeks ago. In the dream I was mowing the front lawn at my parents house and as I'm mowing the lawn I see this huge snakeskin and suddenly this huge snake is chasing me up the driveway. At that point I jarred myself awake because I was so afraid. I'm not really interested in getting caught by a snake, even if it's just in Dreamland. I never remember my dreams but this one is sticking with me. Maybe its dumb to try to interpret your dreams but I can't help but think that Satan really is trying to discourage me or chase me away from what I'm doing or something like that, or maybe the snake was just a metaphor for all my fears. God's really been showing me alot lately about how afraid I am about everything really.
It's kinda silly but lately I've been seeing how fear plays out in my life in a million little ways. I'll be running and I'll pass a man on the street and suddenly get scared that he's going to attack me so I'll have to look behind me real quick when I pass him to make sure he's not gonna try a sneak attack from the back (as if simply looking at him is really going to stop him). Or I'll be about to go to a meeting and just start getting scared everything is going to be unbearably hard. Sometimes I even just refuse to answer my cellphone for days at a time because I'm scared that everyone who calls will want to talk for two hours. Mostly I'm just overwhelmed and afraid that I'm not capable of making the right decisions and doing what it is that God wants me to do.
I think I've been focusing so long on my total depravity (which yes, apart from Christ I am totally depraved) that I've forgotten about the riches of what I have now that I'm in Christ. Check out this passage:
May grace and peace be multiplied to you in the knowledge of God and of Jesus our Lord. His divine power has granted to us all things that pertain to life and godliness, through the knowledge of him who called us to his own glory and excellence, by which he has granted to us his precious and very great promises, so that through them you may become partakers of the divine nature, having escaped from the corruption that is in the world because of sinful desire. For this very reason, make every effort to supplement your faith with virtue, and virtue with knowledge, and knowledge with self-control, and self-control with steadfastness, and steadfastness with godliness, and godliness with brotherly affection, and brotherly affection with love. For if these qualities are yours and are increasing, they keep you from being ineffective or unfruitful in the knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ. For whoever lacks these qualities is so nearsighted that he is blind, having forgotten that he was cleansed from his former sins. Therefore, brothers, be all the more diligent to make your calling and election sure, for if you practice these qualities you will never fall. For in this way there will be richly provided for you an entrance into the eternal kingdom of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.
(2Pe 1:2-11)
I think that fear overtakes me when I get so caught up in my life that I become nearsighted and I forget that I've been cleansed from my former sins. I start wallowing in them and I don't believe I can do anything right when I'm looking at all my failures. Through Christ I am a partaker in the divine nature. I am more than a conqueror. I have all that I need to do what I was born to do because I have Christ. The end of all this life, the end of this world, and the future of all mankind is Christ, and I have Him as my own. Do I believe that? Do I live like it?
I heard a great story last Sunday at one of the churches I went to. One day Martin Luther was incredibly discouraged, so his wife dressed herself in all black. When he saw her working around the house in those clothes he asked, "Where are you going?", and she said, "nowhere". So he replied, "Then why are you dressed like that?" and she said, "Because God is dead!". Then he got really mad that she said that so she said, "well, if God is alive then live like it." I have a form of godliness but too often I deny its power. God is alive and well and working. If God is for us, who can be against us?
"...our problem as human beings is deeper than the individual sins we commit each day, creating the specific problems that complicate our lives. Our deepest problem is that we seek to find our identity outside the story of redemption. If the entire goal and direction of our lives are wrong, we need much more than practical advice on how to do the right thing in a particular situation. We need a message big enough to overcome our natural human instinct to live for our own glory, pursue our own happiness, and forget that our lives are much, much bigger than this little moment of life. Every day in some way, we buy the lies of autonomy and self-sufficiency, worshiping the creation rather than the Creator." - Paul Tripp (Instruments in the Redeemer's Hands)
Monday, July 31, 2006
Wednesday, July 26, 2006
The Zen Of Housework
By Al Zolynas
I look over my shoulder
down my arms
to where they disappear under water
into hands inside pink rubber gloves
moiling among dinner dishes.
My hands lift a wine glass,
holding it by the stem and under the bowl.
It breaks the surface
like a chalice
rising from a medieval lake.
Full of the grey wine
of domesticity, the glass floats
to the level of my eyes.
Behind it, through the window
above the sink, the sun, among
a ceremony of sparrows and bare branches,
is setting in Western America.
I can see thousands of droplets
of steam- each a tiny spectrum- rising
from my goblet of grey wine.
They sway, changing directions
constantly- like a school of playful fish,
or like the sheer curtain
on the window to another world.
Ah, grey sacrament of the mundane!
I look over my shoulder
down my arms
to where they disappear under water
into hands inside pink rubber gloves
moiling among dinner dishes.
My hands lift a wine glass,
holding it by the stem and under the bowl.
It breaks the surface
like a chalice
rising from a medieval lake.
Full of the grey wine
of domesticity, the glass floats
to the level of my eyes.
Behind it, through the window
above the sink, the sun, among
a ceremony of sparrows and bare branches,
is setting in Western America.
I can see thousands of droplets
of steam- each a tiny spectrum- rising
from my goblet of grey wine.
They sway, changing directions
constantly- like a school of playful fish,
or like the sheer curtain
on the window to another world.
Ah, grey sacrament of the mundane!
Monday, July 24, 2006
An Unwelcome Guest
The word cancer has suddenly become real to me in the past couple of days. Usually when someone tells me that their grandmother or friend or father has cancer I say, "I'm really sorry" and I act kinda concerned but I don't really give it much thought. Last Wednesday night my mom was rushed to the ICU of our local hospital because her doctor found that her white blood cell count was dangerously high. They told us that she has leukemia. It came as a total shock to me. I knew she'd been having bad headaches and that she'd seen a couple of doctors but I just figured it was migraines.
I don't really believe this is happening. I came back to Georgia today to check on her and bring her some books to read while she's in the hospital. It's really hard seeing her with so many tubes all over the place but I'm so encouraged by her attitude. She's really trusting that the Lord will heal her. She's also been making friends with all the doctors and nurses. When my dad and I came in tonight to visit her a nurse named Barbara was in her room chatting it up with her and she'd brought her all kind of gifts from home like fresh fruit, chocolate, a book, and a journal. Inside the cover of the red journal Barbara had written- "From one control freak to another".
I love it. I can just imagine my mom sitting up late talking to this lady about life and encouraging her just like she's encouraged me so many times. Its really blown me away. The Sunday before my mom was admitted into the hospital I went to church with my parents at our "crazy" Pentecostal church. The pastor preached a pretty good sermon about witnessing (evangelism). When I went to visit my mom for the first time the first thing she said to me when I got into her room was "I've been able to witness twice since I've been here, I know God has me here for a reason." She's always been the kind of woman who wasn't scared to talk about Jesus anytime, any place, and she's no different in the hospital. I told my mom tonight that she reminds me of Paul in Philippians 1:12-13 when he says, "I want you to know brothers that what has happened to me has really served to advance the gospel, so that it has become known throughout the whole imperial guard and to all the rest that my imprisonment is for Christ." Though I would change the wording to say something like what has happened to my mom has really served to advance the gospel, so that it has become known throughout the whole intensive care unit and to all the rest that her hospitalization is for Christ.
She told me tonight that she's trusting God for a full recovery. I want to believe that God will do it but Lord help my unbelief! When I got home from the hospital tonight my sister asked me to pray with her. I think its the first time we've ever prayed together. I don't know what's going to happen. Tonight as I was leaving my mom said, "Well, I'll see you in a couple of months (that shows you how much I've been home in the past year), and I was like, "you'll see me alot sooner than that." She really wants everything to be life as usual but it can't be life as usual. It'd be easy for me to go back to Montevallo and get so involved in my work and my life that I forget the seriousness of what's going on here at home. I don't want to do that.
I don't really believe this is happening. I came back to Georgia today to check on her and bring her some books to read while she's in the hospital. It's really hard seeing her with so many tubes all over the place but I'm so encouraged by her attitude. She's really trusting that the Lord will heal her. She's also been making friends with all the doctors and nurses. When my dad and I came in tonight to visit her a nurse named Barbara was in her room chatting it up with her and she'd brought her all kind of gifts from home like fresh fruit, chocolate, a book, and a journal. Inside the cover of the red journal Barbara had written- "From one control freak to another".
I love it. I can just imagine my mom sitting up late talking to this lady about life and encouraging her just like she's encouraged me so many times. Its really blown me away. The Sunday before my mom was admitted into the hospital I went to church with my parents at our "crazy" Pentecostal church. The pastor preached a pretty good sermon about witnessing (evangelism). When I went to visit my mom for the first time the first thing she said to me when I got into her room was "I've been able to witness twice since I've been here, I know God has me here for a reason." She's always been the kind of woman who wasn't scared to talk about Jesus anytime, any place, and she's no different in the hospital. I told my mom tonight that she reminds me of Paul in Philippians 1:12-13 when he says, "I want you to know brothers that what has happened to me has really served to advance the gospel, so that it has become known throughout the whole imperial guard and to all the rest that my imprisonment is for Christ." Though I would change the wording to say something like what has happened to my mom has really served to advance the gospel, so that it has become known throughout the whole intensive care unit and to all the rest that her hospitalization is for Christ.
She told me tonight that she's trusting God for a full recovery. I want to believe that God will do it but Lord help my unbelief! When I got home from the hospital tonight my sister asked me to pray with her. I think its the first time we've ever prayed together. I don't know what's going to happen. Tonight as I was leaving my mom said, "Well, I'll see you in a couple of months (that shows you how much I've been home in the past year), and I was like, "you'll see me alot sooner than that." She really wants everything to be life as usual but it can't be life as usual. It'd be easy for me to go back to Montevallo and get so involved in my work and my life that I forget the seriousness of what's going on here at home. I don't want to do that.
Saturday, July 22, 2006
Up to Speed
I got back in town yesterday and its been good to be back. My time at home was so nice. The first week I just relaxed with my parents.They are hilarious in their own way. My dad's really quiet, he just retired but he was an engineer for over 35 years, I think he's a pretty smart guy. Then there's my mom who is crazy and outspoken and will talk to just about anyone about anything. They've got a really funny dynamic going on. Anyways they tag teamed me while I was home and convinced me that I need to write out a budget and stick to it, and that I really need to be careful about what I eat. They are so funny, at 4pm everyday they watch Oprah togteher. So one day she had this big show on nutrition and healthy eating so they taped it and showed it to me when I came home (they do this sort of thing all the time). Growing up the house was stocked with french fries, hamburgers, icecream, chips, and lots of other good tasting treats. But I opened up the freezer when I got home and all I found was sherbert. It's good though and I'm really proud of them. I think it's really important to be a good stewart of your body. Now they've got me reading food labels so that I know what I'm putting in my body. All these preservatives, chemicals, and hormones we put in our bodies are terrible. They're making us lethargic and fat (I'll blog about this more later).
The second week was full of friends and fun. I tracked down lots of old friends from high school and college and caught up with them. My friend Amanda even drove from Birmingham to come and visit me that weekend (she earned 10 friend points for that). I'd only planned on staying at home for 2 weeks but some of my friends from college convinced me to go to the beach with them for 3 days and I'm glad I did because some crazy stuff happened at the end of that third week and my family needed me to be there.
All this traveling and living in different places is so weird. I mean part of me likes it but part of me wishes I was settled somewhere but it's hard. Even during the school year I travel alot on the weekends whether it's work related, or visiting my friends or my family. My life here in Alabama is really centered on work, while most of the people that know me well live in various cities around Georgia, Nashville, TN, or Chicago,IL. I'm not doing such a good job of juggling all the relationships in my life. I'd like to have more of a life outside of work here in Alabama but I'm not sure if I really have the time for it.
I ran 9 miles this morning. It's my longest run so far and I really shouldn't call it a run - maybe a jog, by the end I seriously think people could have walked faster than I was running, but hey it got done. Then I drove down to the Fresh Market and bought some healthy, organic food and tonight I'm going to make dinner and watch movies. I'd love company- there's an open invitation for anyone who doesn't mind driving out here!
The second week was full of friends and fun. I tracked down lots of old friends from high school and college and caught up with them. My friend Amanda even drove from Birmingham to come and visit me that weekend (she earned 10 friend points for that). I'd only planned on staying at home for 2 weeks but some of my friends from college convinced me to go to the beach with them for 3 days and I'm glad I did because some crazy stuff happened at the end of that third week and my family needed me to be there.
All this traveling and living in different places is so weird. I mean part of me likes it but part of me wishes I was settled somewhere but it's hard. Even during the school year I travel alot on the weekends whether it's work related, or visiting my friends or my family. My life here in Alabama is really centered on work, while most of the people that know me well live in various cities around Georgia, Nashville, TN, or Chicago,IL. I'm not doing such a good job of juggling all the relationships in my life. I'd like to have more of a life outside of work here in Alabama but I'm not sure if I really have the time for it.
I ran 9 miles this morning. It's my longest run so far and I really shouldn't call it a run - maybe a jog, by the end I seriously think people could have walked faster than I was running, but hey it got done. Then I drove down to the Fresh Market and bought some healthy, organic food and tonight I'm going to make dinner and watch movies. I'd love company- there's an open invitation for anyone who doesn't mind driving out here!
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
Life Theory #756- Love is a Miracle
Today was really...full. I met my friend Amy this afternoon for lunch and shopping. She filled me in about what's been going on with her this year. She just broke up with this amazing guy who genuinely loves the Lord. My question of course was, "What happened?". Her answer, "I wasn't enough for him physically." Her height bothered him and he told her that if she ever got fat they would no longer be dating. When she asked him what would happen if she gained weight during say... pregancy, he said, "Well, Faith Hill did it". Needless to say, I walked away from our time together a little discouraged. Most of the godly guys I know, I mean guys I really respect, want a girl who's a spiritual studress, and wears a size 2 with big boobs and no cellulite- hot and godly right!(I know I'm exaggerating a little- but only a little.) I was mad for about 10 minutes, then the Lord started to bring my own unrealistic expectations to mind. I mean I'm looking for a smart, witty, spiritual, attractive, intriguing, college educated, decisive, wise, athletic but not uber-athletic, ecclectic, creative, unique, freethinking, poor people loving, gospel centered man. He dosen't exist (dang it!), so I can't get mad at these guys for being honest about wanting some serious eye-candy.
Sometimes I get frustrated because I think no one thinks I'm attractive- but during these times I conveniently forget about all the 18 year old students from JSU, the men who work in fast-food establishments, grocery stores, on the backs of garbage trucks, and even the men who drive cars with loud horns who daily show me their appreciation. I've liked so many guys in the past that would never consider being with me because of one or more of my physical traits, but I really do the same thing everyday when I overlook people because I know they aren't college educated, or interesting enough, or cute. I don't believe in love at first sight, it's straight lust at first sight.
Anyways, after I hung out with Amy I drove straight up to Rome and had dinner with two couples who are some of my great friends from college. Just sitting there listening to them talk and interact with eachother I was thinking how it really is a miracle that anyone gets married. God really is committed to populating the earth, if He wasn't we'd all be holding out waiting for just the right one- the grass would always be greener somewhere else.
My longest college crush was this guy named Jarrod, he had a beard (I'm a sucker for facial hair). I thought we'd be perfect together but everytime I talked to him I got nervous, or asked him dumb questions, or just tried to be something I wasn't- deep or cool or something. So eventhough he knew me, he never really knew me. I don't want to do that anymore. I don't want to try to be what I think some guy wants whether that's physically, spiritually, or in terms of personality.
So here's my theory, I think that God puts a special love in your heart for the person you're supposed to be with, and they have that special love for you too. It's like they can really see you- see your unique beauty, your funny quirks, they can know what you're thinking by the look on your face, and they can see your sin and still want to love you (even if they don't in the moment), they are committed to your soul.
As women it seems like we're constantly trying to get different guys to see us like that through the way we dress, our exaggerated laughter, intense eye contact, even serving and loving people in front of that special guy. But no matter how hard we try they can't see us. I want to stop living like that- I don't want to have to convince my husband that he should love me. It's about soul-connection, and I'm convinced that soul-connection, the kind where you forget about the way a person is making you feel or look, and you're consumed with lavishing them with love and helping them even when it seems impossible, is a miracle. Sure it takes pain, and tears and work but it's possible- with that person who can see you. Maybe that's idealistic but I hope it's true. Trust me I'll be putting this theory to the test whenever I get the chance. Who knows I may just flag down the next Jesus loving sanitation worker who honks at me while I'm running.
Sometimes I get frustrated because I think no one thinks I'm attractive- but during these times I conveniently forget about all the 18 year old students from JSU, the men who work in fast-food establishments, grocery stores, on the backs of garbage trucks, and even the men who drive cars with loud horns who daily show me their appreciation. I've liked so many guys in the past that would never consider being with me because of one or more of my physical traits, but I really do the same thing everyday when I overlook people because I know they aren't college educated, or interesting enough, or cute. I don't believe in love at first sight, it's straight lust at first sight.
Anyways, after I hung out with Amy I drove straight up to Rome and had dinner with two couples who are some of my great friends from college. Just sitting there listening to them talk and interact with eachother I was thinking how it really is a miracle that anyone gets married. God really is committed to populating the earth, if He wasn't we'd all be holding out waiting for just the right one- the grass would always be greener somewhere else.
My longest college crush was this guy named Jarrod, he had a beard (I'm a sucker for facial hair). I thought we'd be perfect together but everytime I talked to him I got nervous, or asked him dumb questions, or just tried to be something I wasn't- deep or cool or something. So eventhough he knew me, he never really knew me. I don't want to do that anymore. I don't want to try to be what I think some guy wants whether that's physically, spiritually, or in terms of personality.
So here's my theory, I think that God puts a special love in your heart for the person you're supposed to be with, and they have that special love for you too. It's like they can really see you- see your unique beauty, your funny quirks, they can know what you're thinking by the look on your face, and they can see your sin and still want to love you (even if they don't in the moment), they are committed to your soul.
As women it seems like we're constantly trying to get different guys to see us like that through the way we dress, our exaggerated laughter, intense eye contact, even serving and loving people in front of that special guy. But no matter how hard we try they can't see us. I want to stop living like that- I don't want to have to convince my husband that he should love me. It's about soul-connection, and I'm convinced that soul-connection, the kind where you forget about the way a person is making you feel or look, and you're consumed with lavishing them with love and helping them even when it seems impossible, is a miracle. Sure it takes pain, and tears and work but it's possible- with that person who can see you. Maybe that's idealistic but I hope it's true. Trust me I'll be putting this theory to the test whenever I get the chance. Who knows I may just flag down the next Jesus loving sanitation worker who honks at me while I'm running.
Sunday, July 09, 2006
The Way of Death- Meditations on Nothing But Death
At first glance this poem is depressing I admit. I really hesitated to post it on my blog but it’s beautiful, Neruda has this incredible way with images. I feel like poetry is becoming a dead art. There are no famous poems that everyone talks about and it doesn’t seems like many people go to hear poetry read anymore. Poems aren't easy and mindless. Their very nature requires you to think, it takes a little hard work but it's worth it. So come an explore with me the mystery and excitement of this poem. One thing you'll have to accept from the beginning is that part of poetry is mystery. A poet will almost never give you a strict, hard and fast interpretation of what you're reading. You piece it together and see what you think it might mean.
Pause (this pause is intended to give us both time to re-read the poem included in my last blog)
Let’s tackle the first stanza:
There are cemeteries that are lonely,
graves full of bones that do not make a sound,
the heart moving through a tunnel,
in it darkness, darkness, darkness,
like a shipwreck we die going into ourselves,
as though we were drowning inside our hearts,
as though we lived falling out of the skin into the soul.
Ok, what is he trying to get at here? Cemeteries are lonely? Cemeteries are inanimate objects, how can they be lonely? But what if this lonely cemetery is a metaphor? What could it be a metaphor for? Look down at the third line- I think it could be a metaphor for the heart. Why is the heart a cemetery? I think the better question for this stanza is how does the heart become a cemetery? It moves in a tunnel of darkness, we die going into ourselves, we drown inside our own hearts, as though we are living falling out of our physical bodies and throwing ourselves into our souls/hearts. Neruda makes a case for the destructiveness of morbid introspection and selfishness.
Moving right along, stanzas number 2&3:
And there are corpses,
feet made of cold and sticky clay,
death is inside the bones,
like a barking where there are no dogs,
coming out from bells somewhere, from graves somewhere,
growing in the damp air like tears of rain.
Sometimes I see alone
coffins under sail,
embarking with the pale dead, with women that have dead hair,
with bakers who are as white as angels,
and pensive young girls married to notary publics,
caskets sailing up the vertical river of the dead,
the river of dark purple,
moving upstream with sails filled out by the sound of death,
filled by the sound of death which is silence.
Alright, I’m not sure what exactly he’s getting at in stanza 2 and he may just be saying things for effect but I love the two lines that say, “death is inside the bones, like a barking where there are no dogs.” What are these corpses? They could be experiences, or dead relationships, or people. But I think this stanza says a lot about the inevitability of death, it’s inside the bones, it calls to everyone. The next stanza begins with, “Sometimes I see alone”, if you think about how he started the poem, “There are cemeteries that are lonely”, it kinda makes you think that he might be trying to say something about the deadliness of being alone or lonely. Then he lists of all these people, pale people, women with dead hair, bakers covered in white flour, thoughtful young girls married to boring men – they are caskets sailing up the vertical river of the dead. Calling them caskets is really interesting. The casket is a carrier, it carries something that is already dead. What could that dead thing that they’re carrying be, maybe their dead hearts? And these alone coffins or caskets they are filled with the sound of death as they move upstream, the sound of silence.
Stanzas 4&5:
Death arrives among all that sound
like a shoe with no foot in it, like a suit with no man in it,
comes and knocks, using a ring with no stone in it, with no
finger in it,
comes and shouts with no mouth, with no tongue, with no
throat.
Nevertheless its steps can be heard
and its clothing makes a hushed sound, like a tree.
I'm not sure, I understand only a little, I can hardly see,
but it seems to me that its singing has the color of damp violets,
of violets that are at home in the earth,
because the face of death is green,
and the look death gives is green,
with the penetrating dampness of a violet leaf
and the somber color of embittered winter.
Stanza 4 has some beautiful imagery. Death arrives as the coffins move silently toward it. Death is empty, it barely makes a sound yet it can be heard like a whisper. Stanza 5, well I like it but I don’t know how to explain it. He may be likening death to damp green violets because the color of decay can be green. He may be comparing violets to death because these violets are at home in the earth and death is our only certainty in this life on earth. Perhaps because green is the color of life and as the world is all that is alive will be given over to death – green is death’s calling card (feel free to choose your own interpretation).
Stanzas 6&7:
But death also goes through the world dressed as a broom,
lapping the floor, looking for dead bodies,
death is inside the broom,
the broom is the tongue of death looking for corpses,
it is the needle of death looking for thread.
Death is inside the folding cots:
it spends its life sleeping on the slow mattresses,
in the black blankets, and suddenly breathes out:
it blows out a mournful sound that swells the sheets,
and the beds go sailing toward a port
where death is waiting, dressed like an admiral.
Alright, we’ve reached the final stanzas and they may be the most difficult ones. Death as a broom, well maybe just dressed as a broom. What could that broom be? I think the broom might be circumstances that bring people to death. It laps the floor. What could the floor be? The bottom rims of society- the impoverished, people who have sunken inside themselves- the depressed, the mentally ill. Well, we know that its actively seeking people. The last stanza is really interesting. Its like death is waiting inside hospital cots, or beds where depressed people sleep, it’s waiting to sail these people to where death is waiting dressed as an admiral. Why is death dressed as an admiral? It’s a commander, its been given authority over all the living.
So what can we gather from all of this? It seems like a depressing, grim, rather scary poem by an old Latino man. But,I think we can learn alot from all of this. So, Neruda starts off his poem by letting us know what he thinks is the problem with the human heart. We die going into ourselves, we drown in our own hearts. Death calls us and we cannot resist. We are alone, as the carriers of our dead hearts. We are moving toward death in our silences. As sure as we are alive we will be dead. It’s lurking about looking for people who have resigned themselves to the folding cots. It’s waiting and we can’t resist, it’s the commander. Alright, that’s still depressing. Neruda is right, death is inevitable. We all walk around barely able to interact on any kind of deep level with each other because the only person our hearts are in tuned with is ourselves. We’re drowning more and more everyday as we try to satiate ourselves with ourselves- self-protection, self-awareness, self-esteem, self-help, self-analysis, enough of me already. Sometimes I really think that if I can just figure myself out I can fix myself- but it always just makes me more confused and mentally disoriented. As this happens to our hearts Neruda describes people as walking coffins, almost practicing death. That’s crazy but I think I see it. I see it in people who refuse to take risks, who live vicariously through television characters and spend most of their time on the couch, who feel like it’s too hard and messy to get involved in other people’s lives. What’s the solution? Well, I love this poem because I think it speaks to the modern condition of man. We are a selfish bunch, unknowingly practicing death until we finally resign ourselves to it. Someone once told me that for the believer this world as we know it is the closest we’ll ever come to hell, and that for the unbeliever it is the closest they will ever come to heaven. So what does Jesus say about the inevitability of death?
And the LORD God commanded the man, saying, "You may surely eat of every tree of the garden, but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat, for in the day that you eat of it you shall surely die."
(Gen 2:16-17)
We are in this mess because of man’s rebellion from the authority of God. Man was deceived, he thought that if he came out from under God’s authority he could control his own destiny and his own life. But that is not the case, instead man unknowingly through his rebellion subjected himself to the father of rebellion. So man apart from God is enslaved to sin and satan. His very life he lives in the practice of death, looking out for himself and no one else. He lives in constant comparison, paranoia, fear, strife, self-gratification, and self-protection.
And you were dead in the trespasses and sins in which you once walked, following the course of this world, following the prince of the power of the air, the spirit that is now at work in the sons of disobedience-- among whom we all once lived in the passions of our flesh, carrying out the desires of the body and the mind, and were by nature children of wrath, like the rest of mankind.
(Eph 2:1-3)
But God sees us in all of this misery and loves us.
But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ--by grace you have been saved-- and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, so that in the coming ages he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus. For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast.
(Eph 2:4-9)
Christ comes on the scene and lives the perfect life that we can’t. Then He dies taking on all our sin, He suffers what we should have to suffer because of our rebellion and he turns the tables on EVERYTHING. He says that eternal life is knowing Him and God through Him. He says that through putting our sinful rebellion to death there is life.
We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life. For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we shall certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his. We know that our old self was crucified with him in order that the body of sin might be brought to nothing, so that we would no longer be enslaved to sin. For one who has died has been set free from sin. Now if we have died with Christ, we believe that we will also live with him. We know that Christ being raised from the dead will never die again; death no longer has dominion over him. For the death he died he died to sin, once for all, but the life he lives he lives to God. So you also must consider yourselves dead to sin and alive to God in Christ Jesus. Let not sin therefore reign in your mortal bodies, to make you obey their passions. Do not present your members to sin as instruments for unrighteousness, but present yourselves to God as those who have been brought from death to life, and your members to God as instruments for righteousness. For sin will have no dominion over you, since you are not under law but under grace.
(Rom 6:4-14)
What kind of death did Christ die? He died by putting sin to death, and so we follow him in putting our sinful selves to death so that we may be free from sin which is in its essence death. So death is the way, for both the Christian and the non-Christian. The non-Christian unknowingly practices death through his search for life. He does all he can to do the things that will make him happy and make him feel more alive- but his dead heart leads him into self-gratification, selfish ambition, and self-promotion. While the Christian practices what looks like death in his quest to know and love Christ more fully. We die to our rights to ourselves, our plans for our own lives, and we find real life.
Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit. Whoever loves his life loses it, and whoever hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life.
(Joh 12:24-25)
Pause (this pause is intended to give us both time to re-read the poem included in my last blog)
Let’s tackle the first stanza:
There are cemeteries that are lonely,
graves full of bones that do not make a sound,
the heart moving through a tunnel,
in it darkness, darkness, darkness,
like a shipwreck we die going into ourselves,
as though we were drowning inside our hearts,
as though we lived falling out of the skin into the soul.
Ok, what is he trying to get at here? Cemeteries are lonely? Cemeteries are inanimate objects, how can they be lonely? But what if this lonely cemetery is a metaphor? What could it be a metaphor for? Look down at the third line- I think it could be a metaphor for the heart. Why is the heart a cemetery? I think the better question for this stanza is how does the heart become a cemetery? It moves in a tunnel of darkness, we die going into ourselves, we drown inside our own hearts, as though we are living falling out of our physical bodies and throwing ourselves into our souls/hearts. Neruda makes a case for the destructiveness of morbid introspection and selfishness.
Moving right along, stanzas number 2&3:
And there are corpses,
feet made of cold and sticky clay,
death is inside the bones,
like a barking where there are no dogs,
coming out from bells somewhere, from graves somewhere,
growing in the damp air like tears of rain.
Sometimes I see alone
coffins under sail,
embarking with the pale dead, with women that have dead hair,
with bakers who are as white as angels,
and pensive young girls married to notary publics,
caskets sailing up the vertical river of the dead,
the river of dark purple,
moving upstream with sails filled out by the sound of death,
filled by the sound of death which is silence.
Alright, I’m not sure what exactly he’s getting at in stanza 2 and he may just be saying things for effect but I love the two lines that say, “death is inside the bones, like a barking where there are no dogs.” What are these corpses? They could be experiences, or dead relationships, or people. But I think this stanza says a lot about the inevitability of death, it’s inside the bones, it calls to everyone. The next stanza begins with, “Sometimes I see alone”, if you think about how he started the poem, “There are cemeteries that are lonely”, it kinda makes you think that he might be trying to say something about the deadliness of being alone or lonely. Then he lists of all these people, pale people, women with dead hair, bakers covered in white flour, thoughtful young girls married to boring men – they are caskets sailing up the vertical river of the dead. Calling them caskets is really interesting. The casket is a carrier, it carries something that is already dead. What could that dead thing that they’re carrying be, maybe their dead hearts? And these alone coffins or caskets they are filled with the sound of death as they move upstream, the sound of silence.
Stanzas 4&5:
Death arrives among all that sound
like a shoe with no foot in it, like a suit with no man in it,
comes and knocks, using a ring with no stone in it, with no
finger in it,
comes and shouts with no mouth, with no tongue, with no
throat.
Nevertheless its steps can be heard
and its clothing makes a hushed sound, like a tree.
I'm not sure, I understand only a little, I can hardly see,
but it seems to me that its singing has the color of damp violets,
of violets that are at home in the earth,
because the face of death is green,
and the look death gives is green,
with the penetrating dampness of a violet leaf
and the somber color of embittered winter.
Stanza 4 has some beautiful imagery. Death arrives as the coffins move silently toward it. Death is empty, it barely makes a sound yet it can be heard like a whisper. Stanza 5, well I like it but I don’t know how to explain it. He may be likening death to damp green violets because the color of decay can be green. He may be comparing violets to death because these violets are at home in the earth and death is our only certainty in this life on earth. Perhaps because green is the color of life and as the world is all that is alive will be given over to death – green is death’s calling card (feel free to choose your own interpretation).
Stanzas 6&7:
But death also goes through the world dressed as a broom,
lapping the floor, looking for dead bodies,
death is inside the broom,
the broom is the tongue of death looking for corpses,
it is the needle of death looking for thread.
Death is inside the folding cots:
it spends its life sleeping on the slow mattresses,
in the black blankets, and suddenly breathes out:
it blows out a mournful sound that swells the sheets,
and the beds go sailing toward a port
where death is waiting, dressed like an admiral.
Alright, we’ve reached the final stanzas and they may be the most difficult ones. Death as a broom, well maybe just dressed as a broom. What could that broom be? I think the broom might be circumstances that bring people to death. It laps the floor. What could the floor be? The bottom rims of society- the impoverished, people who have sunken inside themselves- the depressed, the mentally ill. Well, we know that its actively seeking people. The last stanza is really interesting. Its like death is waiting inside hospital cots, or beds where depressed people sleep, it’s waiting to sail these people to where death is waiting dressed as an admiral. Why is death dressed as an admiral? It’s a commander, its been given authority over all the living.
So what can we gather from all of this? It seems like a depressing, grim, rather scary poem by an old Latino man. But,I think we can learn alot from all of this. So, Neruda starts off his poem by letting us know what he thinks is the problem with the human heart. We die going into ourselves, we drown in our own hearts. Death calls us and we cannot resist. We are alone, as the carriers of our dead hearts. We are moving toward death in our silences. As sure as we are alive we will be dead. It’s lurking about looking for people who have resigned themselves to the folding cots. It’s waiting and we can’t resist, it’s the commander. Alright, that’s still depressing. Neruda is right, death is inevitable. We all walk around barely able to interact on any kind of deep level with each other because the only person our hearts are in tuned with is ourselves. We’re drowning more and more everyday as we try to satiate ourselves with ourselves- self-protection, self-awareness, self-esteem, self-help, self-analysis, enough of me already. Sometimes I really think that if I can just figure myself out I can fix myself- but it always just makes me more confused and mentally disoriented. As this happens to our hearts Neruda describes people as walking coffins, almost practicing death. That’s crazy but I think I see it. I see it in people who refuse to take risks, who live vicariously through television characters and spend most of their time on the couch, who feel like it’s too hard and messy to get involved in other people’s lives. What’s the solution? Well, I love this poem because I think it speaks to the modern condition of man. We are a selfish bunch, unknowingly practicing death until we finally resign ourselves to it. Someone once told me that for the believer this world as we know it is the closest we’ll ever come to hell, and that for the unbeliever it is the closest they will ever come to heaven. So what does Jesus say about the inevitability of death?
And the LORD God commanded the man, saying, "You may surely eat of every tree of the garden, but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat, for in the day that you eat of it you shall surely die."
(Gen 2:16-17)
We are in this mess because of man’s rebellion from the authority of God. Man was deceived, he thought that if he came out from under God’s authority he could control his own destiny and his own life. But that is not the case, instead man unknowingly through his rebellion subjected himself to the father of rebellion. So man apart from God is enslaved to sin and satan. His very life he lives in the practice of death, looking out for himself and no one else. He lives in constant comparison, paranoia, fear, strife, self-gratification, and self-protection.
And you were dead in the trespasses and sins in which you once walked, following the course of this world, following the prince of the power of the air, the spirit that is now at work in the sons of disobedience-- among whom we all once lived in the passions of our flesh, carrying out the desires of the body and the mind, and were by nature children of wrath, like the rest of mankind.
(Eph 2:1-3)
But God sees us in all of this misery and loves us.
But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ--by grace you have been saved-- and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, so that in the coming ages he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus. For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast.
(Eph 2:4-9)
Christ comes on the scene and lives the perfect life that we can’t. Then He dies taking on all our sin, He suffers what we should have to suffer because of our rebellion and he turns the tables on EVERYTHING. He says that eternal life is knowing Him and God through Him. He says that through putting our sinful rebellion to death there is life.
We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life. For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we shall certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his. We know that our old self was crucified with him in order that the body of sin might be brought to nothing, so that we would no longer be enslaved to sin. For one who has died has been set free from sin. Now if we have died with Christ, we believe that we will also live with him. We know that Christ being raised from the dead will never die again; death no longer has dominion over him. For the death he died he died to sin, once for all, but the life he lives he lives to God. So you also must consider yourselves dead to sin and alive to God in Christ Jesus. Let not sin therefore reign in your mortal bodies, to make you obey their passions. Do not present your members to sin as instruments for unrighteousness, but present yourselves to God as those who have been brought from death to life, and your members to God as instruments for righteousness. For sin will have no dominion over you, since you are not under law but under grace.
(Rom 6:4-14)
What kind of death did Christ die? He died by putting sin to death, and so we follow him in putting our sinful selves to death so that we may be free from sin which is in its essence death. So death is the way, for both the Christian and the non-Christian. The non-Christian unknowingly practices death through his search for life. He does all he can to do the things that will make him happy and make him feel more alive- but his dead heart leads him into self-gratification, selfish ambition, and self-promotion. While the Christian practices what looks like death in his quest to know and love Christ more fully. We die to our rights to ourselves, our plans for our own lives, and we find real life.
Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit. Whoever loves his life loses it, and whoever hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life.
(Joh 12:24-25)
Nod to a Fabulous Poet
Nothing But Death
by Pablo Neruda
Translated by Robert Bly
There are cemeteries that are lonely,
graves full of bones that do not make a sound,
the heart moving through a tunnel,
in it darkness, darkness, darkness,
like a shipwreck we die going into ourselves,
as though we were drowning inside our hearts,
as though we lived falling out of the skin into the soul.
And there are corpses,
feet made of cold and sticky clay,
death is inside the bones,
like a barking where there are no dogs,
coming out from bells somewhere, from graves somewhere,
growing in the damp air like tears of rain.
Sometimes I see alone
coffins under sail,
embarking with the pale dead, with women that have dead hair,
with bakers who are as white as angels,
and pensive young girls married to notary publics,
caskets sailing up the vertical river of the dead,
the river of dark purple,
moving upstream with sails filled out by the sound of death,
filled by the sound of death which is silence.
Death arrives among all that sound
like a shoe with no foot in it, like a suit with no man in it,
comes and knocks, using a ring with no stone in it, with no
finger in it,
comes and shouts with no mouth, with no tongue, with no
throat.
Nevertheless its steps can be heard
and its clothing makes a hushed sound, like a tree.
I'm not sure, I understand only a little, I can hardly see,
but it seems to me that its singing has the color of damp violets,
of violets that are at home in the earth,
because the face of death is green,
and the look death gives is green,
with the penetrating dampness of a violet leaf
and the somber color of embittered winter.
But death also goes through the world dressed as a broom,
lapping the floor, looking for dead bodies,
death is inside the broom,
the broom is the tongue of death looking for corpses,
it is the needle of death looking for thread.
Death is inside the folding cots:
it spends its life sleeping on the slow mattresses,
in the black blankets, and suddenly breathes out:
it blows out a mournful sound that swells the sheets,
and the beds go sailing toward a port
where death is waiting, dressed like an admiral.
by Pablo Neruda
Translated by Robert Bly
There are cemeteries that are lonely,
graves full of bones that do not make a sound,
the heart moving through a tunnel,
in it darkness, darkness, darkness,
like a shipwreck we die going into ourselves,
as though we were drowning inside our hearts,
as though we lived falling out of the skin into the soul.
And there are corpses,
feet made of cold and sticky clay,
death is inside the bones,
like a barking where there are no dogs,
coming out from bells somewhere, from graves somewhere,
growing in the damp air like tears of rain.
Sometimes I see alone
coffins under sail,
embarking with the pale dead, with women that have dead hair,
with bakers who are as white as angels,
and pensive young girls married to notary publics,
caskets sailing up the vertical river of the dead,
the river of dark purple,
moving upstream with sails filled out by the sound of death,
filled by the sound of death which is silence.
Death arrives among all that sound
like a shoe with no foot in it, like a suit with no man in it,
comes and knocks, using a ring with no stone in it, with no
finger in it,
comes and shouts with no mouth, with no tongue, with no
throat.
Nevertheless its steps can be heard
and its clothing makes a hushed sound, like a tree.
I'm not sure, I understand only a little, I can hardly see,
but it seems to me that its singing has the color of damp violets,
of violets that are at home in the earth,
because the face of death is green,
and the look death gives is green,
with the penetrating dampness of a violet leaf
and the somber color of embittered winter.
But death also goes through the world dressed as a broom,
lapping the floor, looking for dead bodies,
death is inside the broom,
the broom is the tongue of death looking for corpses,
it is the needle of death looking for thread.
Death is inside the folding cots:
it spends its life sleeping on the slow mattresses,
in the black blankets, and suddenly breathes out:
it blows out a mournful sound that swells the sheets,
and the beds go sailing toward a port
where death is waiting, dressed like an admiral.
Wednesday, July 05, 2006
How am I not myself?
I'm back in good old Marietta, GA, hanging out with my family and friends and trying to raise a little support (I accidentally left all my support stuff in Montevallo so we'll see what happens with that). Anyways, I've been hanging out with alot of my old friends and they keep asking me if I'm ok and saying things to the affect that I'm not acting like myself. That makes me feel weird. I went running this morning and I spent most of that time doing an internal psycho-analysis of myself, trying to figure out why I'm acting weird. This of course left me pretty mentally exhausted. Bottom line- life is changing, my friends are changing and I'm changing. Most of my friends here are married- so they talk about buying houses, having children, relating to their husbands, and what's going on in their social circles. I can't give much advice or input on those topics but I do enjoy listening and learning. When people ask me what's going on with me, I never know how much they really want to know so I keep it brief. My job and my life are probably seem as foreign to them as their world is to me. It's good for me to be here, I just need a little time to warm up.
Saturday, July 01, 2006
Rambling thoughts of a nomad
I'm writing from my fun blue couch in Montevallo, AL. I got back in town tonight around 5pm, bought a Lean Cuisine from the grocery store and rented two movies. Unfortunately the sound on our dvd player isn't working so it looks like I'll be reading, blogging and eating hot cornbread muffins tonight, and I'm not complaining- I'm all alone in the Shanahan House and I'm lovin' it. Being at Beach Project really was so good for my heart. There's something mysterious and powerful about the Body of Christ. Being around so many other believers exposes so much of my sin but at the same time I think I felt more loved by God and other people during the short month of June than I have all year. I need people in my life alot more than I'd like to admit.
I love my job! Isn't that weird, I feel like I've had so much inner conflict this year and so many doubts about whether or not God really wants me to work for Campus Outreach, and whether I have what it takes and what my bosses are looking for. I will freely admit that part of the reason I came on staff in the first place was because I was afraid. Afraid that if I didn't, I would lose my focus on Christ and become another materialistic suburbanite (much to my dissapointment being on staff doesn't keep me from buying crap I don't need). But the other part of me took the job because I really do want to love people and see them come to see Jesus as their sweet Savior and intimate friend (I feel really cheesy typing that).
This summer I feel like I've been smacked in the face with the reality that most of the girls I know are walking around broken, living in the cage of performance, and dying to be loved. . All of their families, even the ones that look happy are screwed up and dysfunctional. Jesus, why is it so hard for us to accept your unconditional love? I feel like we put the cart before the horse (or however that analogy is supposed to go). I'd love it if we had one whole summer devoted to seeing the beauty of Christ. I feel like we're so afraid that the students won't labor or be productive Christians so we force them to get a bunch of evangelistic experiences, which isn't necessarily bad. All I'm saying is that the reason most people don't evangelize is not because they've never seen it modeled for them, it's because Christ isn't that beautiful to them. I wonder what would happen if the only focus of next year's SBP was Christ and the beauty of the gospel, and we didn't teach so many methods of evangelism. I wonder if evangelism would explode. Being a Christian is more than knowing that Christ died for your sin and that you can go to heaven if you trust Him and repent, its got to move your heart. I think we've seen so many people "fall away from the faith" lately because they missed the whole point. Jesus didn't save us to just be His soldiers- bringing the truth to people through evangelism and a strict regime of bible study and memorization. He saved us to restore intimate communion between us and God. If there is no intimate communion with God in your life you are missing the point. He desires a people that are wholeheartedly in love with Him, not just His mission. No man wants to marry a woman who will clean the house, cook wonderful meals, and even have sex with him without looking into his eyes and enjoying him, and God doesn't want people who are so busy doing His work that they don't have time to slow down and melt at his touch. A husband demands the full love and attention of his wife and God demands that His Bride be captivated with the beauty of who He is. Only then will our service be acceptable. And we all, with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another. For this comes from the Lord who is the Spirit.
(2Co 3:18)
He melts the hardness of our hearts with the fire of His love.
I love my job! Isn't that weird, I feel like I've had so much inner conflict this year and so many doubts about whether or not God really wants me to work for Campus Outreach, and whether I have what it takes and what my bosses are looking for. I will freely admit that part of the reason I came on staff in the first place was because I was afraid. Afraid that if I didn't, I would lose my focus on Christ and become another materialistic suburbanite (much to my dissapointment being on staff doesn't keep me from buying crap I don't need). But the other part of me took the job because I really do want to love people and see them come to see Jesus as their sweet Savior and intimate friend (I feel really cheesy typing that).
This summer I feel like I've been smacked in the face with the reality that most of the girls I know are walking around broken, living in the cage of performance, and dying to be loved. . All of their families, even the ones that look happy are screwed up and dysfunctional. Jesus, why is it so hard for us to accept your unconditional love? I feel like we put the cart before the horse (or however that analogy is supposed to go). I'd love it if we had one whole summer devoted to seeing the beauty of Christ. I feel like we're so afraid that the students won't labor or be productive Christians so we force them to get a bunch of evangelistic experiences, which isn't necessarily bad. All I'm saying is that the reason most people don't evangelize is not because they've never seen it modeled for them, it's because Christ isn't that beautiful to them. I wonder what would happen if the only focus of next year's SBP was Christ and the beauty of the gospel, and we didn't teach so many methods of evangelism. I wonder if evangelism would explode. Being a Christian is more than knowing that Christ died for your sin and that you can go to heaven if you trust Him and repent, its got to move your heart. I think we've seen so many people "fall away from the faith" lately because they missed the whole point. Jesus didn't save us to just be His soldiers- bringing the truth to people through evangelism and a strict regime of bible study and memorization. He saved us to restore intimate communion between us and God. If there is no intimate communion with God in your life you are missing the point. He desires a people that are wholeheartedly in love with Him, not just His mission. No man wants to marry a woman who will clean the house, cook wonderful meals, and even have sex with him without looking into his eyes and enjoying him, and God doesn't want people who are so busy doing His work that they don't have time to slow down and melt at his touch. A husband demands the full love and attention of his wife and God demands that His Bride be captivated with the beauty of who He is. Only then will our service be acceptable. And we all, with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another. For this comes from the Lord who is the Spirit.
(2Co 3:18)
He melts the hardness of our hearts with the fire of His love.
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