"A good story is one that isn't demanding, that proceeds from A to B, and above all doesn't remind us of the bad times, the cardboard patches we used to wear in our shoes, the failed farms, the way people you love just up and die. It tells us instead that hard work and perseverance can overcome all obstacles; it tells lie after lie, and the happy ending is the happiest lie of all."
Kathleen Norris, from Dakota, A Spiritual Geography
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Friday, March 23, 2007
Reading Between the Lines
Did he say Mitt? Re the upcoming presidential election: I heard Gregory Koukl today say that we need to choose someone who holds to the same principles as we do. We do not need to vote for ONLY someone who holds the same 5-point, sola scriptura, pre-trib position that we do. To quote, he said we are voting for a president, not selecting a pastor. Good point. Too many Christians get hung up on the latter. I believe it was Martin Luther who said it's better to elect "a wise Turk" rather than a stupid Christian.
Sunday, March 11, 2007
Hurt-Early Beginnings
It was a strange sound. The wooden legs scraping on the wooden floor, the furious rocking back and forth of the mattress, and the strained wheezing sound. In the darkness it would be a puzzle to piece together. Given some light one could make out the boy lying on his side, violently rocking back and forth, gasping for breath.
On many mornings, I’d wake up with my stomach and ribs aching from the workout, the inside of my stomach hurting from all the air I’d gulped down the night before. Somehow I’d manage to actually go through a ‘normal’ morning routine, eat breakfast, and head out the door to elementary school. I don’t know how I got through the days without collapsing in the classroom from extensive exhaustion. Perhaps I caught up on my sleep during nap-time, or during extended games of “Heads-Up, 7-Up”.
I wondered before, and wonder more now that I’m a parent, where in the hell were MY parents? Granted, my dad left to work out of state for long periods of time. But wasn’t he there some time? I truly don’t remember; probably blocked it out. Or it fell out during the extensive knocking of the bed. And mom. That’s a mystery too. She couldn’t have had alcohol related blackouts all of those nights, right?
It’s been knocking around in my head for about a year now. I’d managed to keep it pretty much suppressed for most of my life. At this juncture of the journey I’ve had opportunity to reflect (some of it chosen, some of it bestowed). So I ask questions. Some have answers. Some don’t. And some of the answers will be evident in time. And maybe some of the questions need to be asked of others, though I’m not excited about doing the asking.
On many mornings, I’d wake up with my stomach and ribs aching from the workout, the inside of my stomach hurting from all the air I’d gulped down the night before. Somehow I’d manage to actually go through a ‘normal’ morning routine, eat breakfast, and head out the door to elementary school. I don’t know how I got through the days without collapsing in the classroom from extensive exhaustion. Perhaps I caught up on my sleep during nap-time, or during extended games of “Heads-Up, 7-Up”.
I wondered before, and wonder more now that I’m a parent, where in the hell were MY parents? Granted, my dad left to work out of state for long periods of time. But wasn’t he there some time? I truly don’t remember; probably blocked it out. Or it fell out during the extensive knocking of the bed. And mom. That’s a mystery too. She couldn’t have had alcohol related blackouts all of those nights, right?
It’s been knocking around in my head for about a year now. I’d managed to keep it pretty much suppressed for most of my life. At this juncture of the journey I’ve had opportunity to reflect (some of it chosen, some of it bestowed). So I ask questions. Some have answers. Some don’t. And some of the answers will be evident in time. And maybe some of the questions need to be asked of others, though I’m not excited about doing the asking.
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