Why a PB&J Can Be Extraordinary!

Today I am reminded of the little things.  Such as a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, which can make or break a day, according to Casey Schu.  Eating this as a pick me up (one of my favorites) during this dragging day recalled her infamous lectures on the snack.

A minister somewhere told me that when his friend was feeling down, he would buy a pack of socks.  Now, for the next six to eight days, on average, he would have something very small yet special to look forward to.  A pack of socks do not cost very much, but they are new... they are clean (especially if you are like me where my socks tend to be white only once)... they are special, but only for him.

On my off days, I make myself a warm beverage.  I generally read.  I might surf the internet.  However, I try to do things that are special to make an un-special day worthy.

Interestingly enough, I consider humanity's relationship with Christ in the same way.  Ordinary people living ordinary lives become extraordinary because of their interaction with the Divine.  Ordinary days become extraordinary because of eternal love.

So the next time I have an off day, I intend on making a cup of tea and reading from my novel... but I will also reflect on what makes life beautiful, and just how dull every day could have been without it.

Conversacion y Controversia

Today is dreary, rainy, wet and cold in Central Illinois.  I love it, in general, but the persistent heat is making everything feel like a sauna of sorts.  So with today being a rain day, I decided to tackle homework instead of... well, tackling homework (had to be done either way, but it felt nicer being inside without the sun teasing me).  

As I was reading my Spanish book, I had a lightbulb moment.  For, you see, my book is entitled "Conversacion y Controversia" or, for all you monolingual people, "Conversation and Controversy."  The textbook goes through modern issues and gives "both sides" to read and reflect on.  The book uses conventional Spanish vocabulary and writing style (so the text is "real"), it simply is a book that would be read more in the fifth or sixth grade for a native-speaker.   I can easily understand the book, especially by context, on these issues.

What I realized while reading today about whether 2100 A.D. will be a pleasant or horrible place to live is that this is what national dialogue is becoming, or as I fear more likely, became.  A dumbed down, pick one or the other, sound-bite driven, black and white issue book.

And when trying to learn a second language?  That works well!  It is even kind of fun!  Being able to read and understand what any Spanish speaking fifth grader is reading is awesome (coincidently, most newspapers are written at a fifth grade level).

But when we're using the same method of conversation and controversy to govern a country...? Well, 2100 never looked scarier.

And I've Murdered Yet Another

I have never had a green thumb to speak of.  When I was in high school, I always tried to have a large vegetable garden, but between camps and the heat and my juvenile level of devotion, I soon had a weed bed.  Most plants that come my way end up going to the green house in the sky or to the care of other more talented people.

That is, until Bambi, the Bamboo came my way.  

Last year for welcome week Campus Activities Board (CAB) gave away good-luck bamboos.  I thought it was darling and naturally I took one of my own.  Oh how it grew!  And it only took one watering a week!

Coming into my dorm this year, well, we had an accident.  The poor thing fell not once, but twice.  Each time the rock bed that it was grounded in scattered on the gravel parking lot and each time I picked up the rocks and the plant.

Bambi is still alive, but I fear just. The leaves are in "distress green" and it appears the tips are losing even more color.  

So any tips?  Any words of help for my poor house plant?

Being Recognized

Sunday I received a gift that I was not expecting.  I drove into church, as I typically do on a Sunday morning, went down the avenue, started to turn into the drive when I suddenly stopped.

The marquee had changed.

I read it quickly and realized that an addition had been made.  The last line of the marquee now read, "Colton Lott S.P.I."  

I received billing!  Most churches don't even recognize associate ministers on the marquee.  Youth ministers have an even slimmer chance.  And interns?  No way!

But my church did.  They put me up there for travelers to see.  I felt so loved and honored that even today, Friday, I am amazed at their generosity and care.

I think the secret is that we can often do the same.  Remembering and recognizing those around us is critical. When we emphasize that the important people in our lives are important, we figuratively open the door for "our people" to inhabit the niche they have created in our lives.  Things that are as simple as this can strengthen the bonds of community and shape the way that our friends and family hold and carry themselves.

I do not know how much work, consideration, or time it took for my church to put my name on our marquee, but I do know how much it meant, and for that I sincerely say thank you.

God All Encompassing

I was considering today God.  That, on its own, does not sound too particularly exciting because at one point or another all of us take a moment to reflect on the nature of the Divine during some point of the day (even if that 'reflection' is no more than turning around to yell at the g@% d@#* cat you just tripped on).

I suppose I was envisioning heaven, or really anticipating the presence of God when I realized that all of my imaginings had a male God. In some of my thoughts, God was even a very old white man with a salt and pepper beard.

Don't take me the wrong way- I have no problem with anybody daydreaming about God or heaven or the stupid cat.  What intrigues me is that in my mind I still had not consciously made the full transition to conceiving of God in genderlessness.

I know  a few of my friends (and even a few of my readers) dislike seeing God in any gender but male.  I personally prefer to, theologically speaking, consider the Divine to be exempt from, yet encompassing all genders.  Even though I feel this way, I have resisted for many years of taking into practice invoking God in the feminine because I did not see the worth.

My daydream didn't have a matriarch, but a patriarch. 

Perhaps I have already covered this ground once in the preceding paragraphs, but this set off a red flag when I realized this.  The alert didn't occur because I could conceive of God the Father, but as I tried to do the same for God the Mother...

Well.  I couldn't.  When I tried to envision God the Divine... Well.  I couldn't.

Startling myself with all of this, I decided today that it IS time to incorporate gender envisioning into my spiritual exercises ... to consider AND practice that perhaps God can transcend gender yet be encompassing of all genders.  

Maybe I'm over-reacting.  Maybe I've just been in a darned liberal arts college for too long (two days back in that yankee-land!).  However, I think that now is the time to consider a God who is generous... who is "omni-"... who is able to be my patriarch and matriarch.

Apologies

One of the scariest but most interesting facts about me is that I like to read people.  I am not sure why, but I like to know what is going on behind the eyes.  I generally desire knowing what I shouldn't know, what a person is thinking, what they didn't say as opposed to what they did, where their coming from- even their deepest darkest secrets.

Maybe this is because I am in the people business.  Perhaps it is because I am a freak.  I really do not know.

What I do know is that one of the most valuable ideas that I have learned in recent years is the "fight of flight" tendency.  Once I was able to understand this idea, I  was able to understand people's actions, on occasion.  Having a very elementary understanding of Game Theory did not hurt either.

When it became obvious to me that I was not doing as well as I should have with my dear blog, I had the option of fighting harder to accomplish the goals I set for myself... or fleeing from the whole operation.

Guess which one I picked.

This is my reintroduction spiel.  I hope that I have not evaporated my entire following on Minor Musings... I hope that some will come back and read my words.  I hope that my writing improves with time.  

More than anything else, I hope that you will forgive me for leaving so abruptly and forgetting to write- literally and figuratively.

Clott

Called to Serve and Destined to Move Part I

Sometimes I wonder how Christians can stomach to live in this world.  This world is still broken, the hungry are still aching, the homeless are still cold, the sick are still dying, the orphaned are still unloved, the widows are still forsaken, and yet so many of us are SO blessed and we refuse to lift one finger. 

                                                

How did we get to be so greedy?  How did we get to be so wrong?

Jesus may have said “the poor will be with you always” but I do not believe that was an invitation to stop working passionately and diligently to change this world.  To bring mercy and justice; for ALL Christians to be change agents to this world and to frequently and whole heartedly devote their life to having “His will be done, on earth, as it is in heaven.”

Folks, somewhere in the rat race, we dropped the ball.  Take, for example, the poorest nation in the Americas- Haiti.  Do you know what Haitians eat when the food runs out?  Yellow mud cookies, worth about a nickel.  In our country we play with mud pies; there, they really eat them. 

Hey, hey, anybody listening?  Hey, hey, anybody there?  Hey, hey, anybody listening?  Anybody care?

In Haiti, 50% of children will die before they reach the age of five.  Why?  These children will fall from diseases that we have vaccinations for!  It’s not expensive, about $1.50.  When you bought your coke today, how much was it? 

Hey, hey, anybody listening?  Hey, hey, anybody there?  Hey, hey, anybody listening?  Anybody care?

In America, we have our poverty too.  Don’t ever think that we don’t.  We have safety nets, yes.  But we have deep human need too.  What do we do for them, besides tell them to go ask Uncle Sam for a handout?

Hey, hey, anybody listening?  Hey, hey, anybody there?  Hey, hey, anybody listening?  Anybody care?

When was the last time we tithed to a church, or gave significantly from our paychecks?  When was the last time we gave something more than the token quarter in the Salvation Army buckets at Christmas? 

Hey, hey, anybody listening?  Hey, hey, anybody there?  Hey, hey, anybody listening?  Anybody care?

We all have the ability to tithe, I remember reading in an article.  The reason more people do not is mostly boiled down to discipline.  If everyone earnestly decided to give a percentage of their paycheck, then they could do so.  Not necessarily easily, but they would have the ability to.

Hey, hey, anybody listening?  Hey, hey, anybody there?  Hey, hey, anybody listening?  Anybody care?

Even though I advocate giving to Godly things, don’t think that the church is not also guilty.  Why do our churches have savings and reserves, sometimes in the six or seven digit range, and there is still desolation in their land.  Why do churches run budgets where they are not even tithing or significantly giving back to their neighbor?

Hey, hey, anybody listening?  Hey, hey, anybody there?  Hey, hey, anybody listening?  Anybody care?

Why do we claim to be pro-life, or pro-choice, and not open up our doors to foster children and adoption?  Even though we know of too many horror stories to the families that go through the process, why are we so scared that we cannot back up our beliefs and work to make the life of a child better?

Hey, hey, anybody listening?  Hey, hey, anybody there?  Hey, hey, anybody listening?  Anybody care?

Why why why?  How can we live in this country and not see the truth anymore?  I am just as guilty, please do not think I am ranting against you, my blogging community.  I am calling myself to task, and I hope that you feel my energy.  I promise.

I was talking to a profound lady today about how the spirit of service and hope is like wildfire.  However, apathy and pessimism is like buckets of water.  We cannot not care any longer.  We never should have started in the first place, but we have got to move. 

**** This blog will be continued tomorrow.  Stay tuned! ****

When It Rains...

I spend a lot of time in the water.  Having been a competitive swimmer since the age of 12, and a lovable pool tycoon in my younger days, I have probably logged a number in the thousands of aquatic hours.

I love my aqueous home, though, even if I occasionally spend more time there than I care to admit.  In my life, dihydrogen monoxide carries a lot of weight. 

What I have been focusing on of late is the spiritual and symbolic side of this sacred compound on our planet.  Not only is it life giving, but it represents cleansing, through baptism and the ritual purification in the Old Testament.  It snakes into the cracks and the crevices that we cannot even dare to reach and scrubs away our impurities.  Water also means chaos, something only that God can control, such as when he separated the waters and created sky and sea (the Hebrews thought that the blue sky held water above.  While science found this view to be misguided, one can still appreciate the idea that life was carved out between the waters).  Likewise, it was God that let the watery-chaos flow and cleanse the wicked earth.

From science, we learn that water has compounds dissolved inside within it (it is known as the universal solvent, after all).  These compounds disassociate into ions, which are charged particles.  This ‘electrified’ water is how we live!  When/if we are baptized, not only is the old life washed away, but by the same symbolism, the new life is electrified and shocked into a new existence of Christian love and service.

Oh the thoughts that can run through one’s mind on a rainy evening.

The More Profound Questions

The Eureka College Honors Program is having a movie night tomorrow night.  Normally, this would go without notice, but as I suggested the film selection, I have been "rallying the troops" and incessantly bugging/emailing the peeps to come and gather round.  My film selection?  The Philosopher Kings. 

Somewhere in the backlog of this very blog (around November of 2011) I wrote a short piece on this monumental film.  I loved it to pieces because it directly challenged me to challenge my perception of people.  Who are the beloved and blessed?  Who are the educated?  What does vocation and pay have to do with one another, if anything? 

In preparation for tomorrow's cinematic event, I reviewed my notes from my HELM conference and I saw a note I made.  This note actually had very little to do with the film and a lot to do with faith, and what I wrote was this:
"When we say 'atheist' what are we an 'atheist' of?"
"What is a deeper question to 'Do you love God?' or 'Do you follow Jesus?'  This is a yes or no question. The more profound item to ask is 'What do I love when I love God?'"

What am I loving or believing in, when I say I love or believe in God?  Am I loving this idea of my own salvation?  Or am I loving a force?  Or am I caring for the people of this universe?  Or is it something even more, is it a natural order of things that I am trying to grasp my soul around?  What is it that we love in the divine?

When am I an atheist in my life?  I am not trying to downplay the faith choice of many people with this question, but in a secondary sense of the word "atheist," when do I choose to forsake faith or the divine in my every day life?  This reminds me of a beautiful video, actually.  The link is below.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xiG-nlDVvYM

IF you can follow my thought process from beginning to end... congratulations!  You may be one in a million.

Going Up?

I write this from Chicago, Illinois. The First Gen program will be seeing the Joffrey Ballet tonight and the Chicago Museum of Art tomorrow. Great fun, to be sure!

On the way up here, our bus had a television and DVD system. So we voted on the movie to watch. What do you think a group of around 70 college students would choose? "Up!" by Disney/Pixar (rated G). Natural selection, right?

In watching this heart touching film, I realized that all churches, particularly those that have an older congregation, should use this film as required viewing. 

The plot is interesting, but it focuses on a widower who is forced to befriend a young boy with an absentee father. This story had so much to say without words about the role of a surrogate grandparent and how a child can re-ignite the life of an elderly person who has very little left to do, but still could be a change agent in the world that he or she lives in. 

Maybe our churches could go "Up!" if they took some of the simple points of this movie to heart. 

The Wisdom of Dear Mary...

It is very late, and I’m rather tired.  So I will leave you with this word:

supercalifragilisticexpialidocious                         

After all, it is the word you say when you have nothing to say.  And, believe it or not, sometimes it is okay to say nothing else.  Sometimes silence speaks louder and more accurately than words ever could.

Just for giggles, though, another word I would like to give you is serendipitous, which is the act of finding a pleasant surprise.  This is potentially the hardest word in English to translate to other languages because of its unique definition.  I feel that I have had a very serendipitous night, and I wish you all a good night and a good day. 

Daily Urgency

The time is late, but in the good spirit of lent I am still typing this blog out for your punishment, er, enjoyment.

I went to the theater tonight to watch Thom Pain (Based on Nothing) by Will Eno.  This play is a one man show and was very well put together and performed (kudos to those who helped make that possible!).

As a few of you know, I enjoy finding a certain element of a play and looking at it deeper.  Tonight’s was an old lesson, one that I have actually heard many times.  That moment of learning was this: if I had one day to live, and knew it, I would live it UP.  I would love everyone!  I would forgive like crazy!  I would have fun up to my eyeballs!  I would do everything and anything to make sure that one day made a difference in my life and in the lives of others.  However, if I had forty years to live, I would do… nothing spectacular, in the here and now, anyway.  Maybe, eventually, I’ll get around to something interesting.  But, would that urgency, that longing, that dire necessity to make a difference and to live a life honestly worth the living every single day actually happen?  Not a chance. 

Why do we let life slip through our finger tips like grains of sand?  I do it.  You do it. Perhaps we let time pass without concern because it is difficult to remain so stimulated for so long.  However, what I do know is that it is vital to not live every day like it is our last.  Read the preceding sentence carefully, one more time.  We need to make every day count because it simply is.  We must come to realize, you and I, that we are the change agents of this world.  We can determine the quality of days for not just ourselves, but for so many others, but only, ONLY, if we live passionately and sincerely. 

We have a gift.  Whether it is a story to tell that has changed our lives, a talent that few possess, or a mind that is more malleable than gold, somewhere each of us has a something that can change the environment in which we live.  What catalyst will it take to start the cycle of urgency within?  This is the thought that I will keep as I slide off into the realm of sleep.

The Divine Audience

This may be surprising to some of you, but I am currently on a Jesus kick (I know, it DOES happen every now and then!).  Therefore, today’s blog will be about… Jesus!  And there is absolutely, positively, nothing you can do about it… except not read today’s blog, which would actually make me rather sad.

In John chapter two, Jesus performs his first miracle of changing water to wine.  Glancing over the temptation to expound on doing what his mother said in spite of not wanting to, Jesus transforms six jars containing twenty to thirty gallons of water a piece into high quality wine.

However, who watched this miracle?  It was not the partygoers who benefited from the wine, the master of the banquet, the groom, or the bride. 

Who had front row tickets to the first miracle of Jesus Christ?  The servants and the disciples saw!  Nobody really all that special was the divine audience; it was the workers, or average Joes, if you will.

The workers were not the chief recipient of this miracle, but they did get to see the transformation of a lifetime (and, just to be clear, we are talking about a transformation much grander than wine).  The first people to see the start of a worldwide revolution were the followers of some dude from Nazareth and workers at a wedding feast. 

Where are you working today?  When your feet are aching or your mind is about to explode if you have to balance one more ledger line or the kids you are trying to teach are about to break the last straw… remember, the miracles of Jesus don’t always happen where everyone can see them.  Many people may feel the effects of the divine, but not everyone gets to watch it happen. 

Be looking and waiting and hoping to see a glimmer and oasis of the divine today in the daily grind.  Who knows… maybe your water fountain may start spurting wine! ;)

Fruit for Lent

Okay all, I promise that I did not forget about Minor Musings.  I just… well, I am a complete and utter failure at keeping up at blogging.  Maybe what I should give up for lent is time to blog daily?  I think there are several people in my life that would appreciate that.

This past Sunday at my church in Creve Coeur (yes, I finally settled down) we sang a beautiful song that I would like to type for you here.

“Lord, Whose Love Through Humble Service”

1) Lord, whose love through humble service bore the weight of human need, who upon the cross, forsaken, offered mercy’s perfect deed:  we your servants, bring the worship not of voice alone, but heart, consecrating to your purpose every gift that you impart.

2) Still your children wander homeless; still the hungry cry for bread; still the captives long for freedom; still in grief we mourn our dead.  As, O Lord, your deep compassion healed the sick and freed the soul, use the love your Spirit kindles still to save and make us whole.

3) As we worship grant us vision, till your love’s revealing light in its height and depth and greatness dawns upon our quickened sight, making known the needs and burdens your compassion bids us bear, stirring us to tireless striving your abundant life to share.

4) Called by worship to your service, forth in your dear name we go to the child, the youth, the aged, love in living deeds to show; hope and health, good will and comfort, counsel, aid, and peace we give, that your servants, Lord, in freedom may your mercy know, and live.

Page 461 of the Chalice Hymnal 1995

Words by Albert F. Bayly, 1961

Words © 1961 Oxford University Press, Inc.; harm. © Lutheran Book of Worship, reprinted by permission of Augsburg Fortress

I do not know why this song struck me as it did.  Perhaps it was the optimistic tone… or the call to service that graced this hymn.  However, what I do know is that I felt stirred by this melodic hymn that doesn’t look very fancy, or sings like any modern song that I know of. 

I suppose the deep question that this song as of me as I sing or type the words is: what fruit are we bearing for others?  Furthermore what does bearing fruit really mean?  What good is fruit without someone to pick and eat of it?  When Jesus spoke of being believers who bore fruit for the kingdom, could it be that we are to bear fruit for the hungry to eat and for the thirsty to drink?

During this time of lent, whether you fully observe this time or not, work to bear fruit for the lonely sojourner who is searching for their way.  Bear fruit for the poor and downhearted, for they are looking for any lifeline.  Bear fruit for the rich and overinflated, for they need real food to sustain them. 

But, possibly most of all grow some real, deep, spiritual food for yourself, so that you may be nourished, and so that you may go, stirred on by God to “tireless striving [God’s] abundant life to share!”

Coordinated Falling

Although most people would never suspect this, my brother, Chase, and I watched television together when we were younger.  Not much, we couldn’t stand the each other very long, much less the other’s choice of programming; but, nevertheless, we did see a few shows peacefully in the same living room.

One day that I remember particularly clear was when we were watching a documentary.  In the course of this program, an expert was talking about walking and he said, “You know, the amazing thing is that walking is just coordinated falling!”

I looked over to Chase on the couch and exclaimed, “That is such a neat way to look at it!”

Chase, however, grimaced and looked at me with a smirk and said, “Oh great, now you’re going to go around and start saying that!”

Turns out, he was wrong.  I never used that expression, until now, but his teasing me never let me forget this idea (haha Chase!).  As I was thinking on this memory, fondly, the other day, I thought about this idea of “learning to walk.”

See, when I think of good parents describing their children on their path to “learning to walk” I think of little tots doing something wrong over and over again and finally…. They get it right, and before you know it- they’re moving! 

This idea, this “walking is just falling” contradicts this idea of wrongness.  It is not that these little guys and gals are doing it wrong; they are learning how to do this action well.  They are practicing the right behavior!  So when little babies become toddlers, it is not that they finally understand walking… it is that they have finally understood falling. 

When we look at this, we see the same thing in our life.  The terrors or failures we face are most likely neither terrors nor failures… they are the pathways to success.  Succeeding, therefore, is not finding the one right way of doing something after trying all of the wrong ways first… succeeding is mastering what looks difficult, or wrong.  Succeeding is therefore learning how to coordinate falling, and then to do it better and better each time. 

Church on Sunday

For some odd reason, my dear friend Belle occurs in my blog more than any other person besides myself.  This is probably because she is quite memorable, or perhaps because when anyone is with Belle, s/he is bound to have an adventure.  Whatever the case, this is another blog that heavily features my crazy New Zealand friend, and I hope that she does not mind the extra attention (she won’t ;) ).

This past Sunday came and I was not really looking forward to the prospect of church.  The morning was dreary and there was still snow on the ground.  I wanted to go to Peoria for church, but I was not sure about the weather.  I don’t do very well on icy roads (the only time I have driven on an icy road, I got rear-ended.  More like rear-bumped, but still).  The roads were supposed to be clear, but this is from my Illinois friends, who think that two inches of snow is nothing to blink over.  So… I was nervous about taking an adventure with Zelma, my white Saturn. 

I decided that the adventure was feasible and I was going to attend the First Christian Church of Peoria, and I would be early to boot! (Normally, I arrive fifteen minutes late to the churches I visit). Just as I walked up to my car, my phone starts ringing.  “That’s odd,” my conscious grumbled, “no one calls me at this time on a Sunday morning.  What bozo could this be?”

Well, that bozo was Belle, who was sick and needed a ride to the hospital.  Let me quickly stick a disclaimer here, the “hospital” is the Eureka advocate, and feels more like a clinic.  It is a hospital, but it is a very small, very rural hospital.  Eureka students go there for health care as the College is too small to employ full time health care providers on campus.   

We get to the hospital and we get Belle checked in and she asks me to accompany her to her room.  As we are waiting for the nurses and the doctor to come and start checking her out, Belle apologizes for dragging me out with her instead of getting to go to church.  I told Belle that it was more than fine and that any time she needed a ride in the ‘ambulance,’ all she had to do was call.

However, as I thought more and more about the idea of church and what I was missing… I realized that accompanying a pal to the hospital was a perfect example of church.  What was more potent than helping in the healing of a friend?  In its own way, setting in that room with Belle was a very powerful worship to the Divine of the universe, and I was able to commune with my beloved God and my beloved friend. 

There is not much more that can be said for a “good service” on Sunday.  So, Belle, thank you for taking me to church Sunday.  I thoroughly enjoyed it. 

Cultivating the Unlikely

Have you ever thought what roots are set in?  Naturally, roots of plants are (most often) set in dirt or soil.  This is good, for the water and minerals, mixed with sunlight, lets the plants grow strong and mighty.  Eventually, with hope, the plant can reproduce or feed a consumer like a human or a goat.

But…. That soil the plant is placed in is just really small rocks, mixed in with other minerals and a bit of organic matter.  But rocks!? Something that seems so… inhospitable, so incapable of growing anything!  Rocks only serve two purposes in my life: to stub my toe, or if the rock is big enough, to sit down on when I fall tired.

Yet, these small rocks help create life.  From the most unlikely of places, we find life… we find hope.  It reminds me of the wisdom I once gathered from Gary Mitchell.  The story of most good things comes from the most unlikely candidate. 

Culturing the “unlikely” in my life is a challenge when life is so fast-paced.  I place all of my eggs in the “likely” basket, so much that I often miss the true incubator of hope, peace, and change.  What all have I missed for not investing in the “unlikely”?

One day, even all that Mount Everest is today will become soil, and the soil will turn over to life.  It is a long time in the future, and it seems so unlikely, but one day…. one day….

Yearning

I am insane, according to most people.  Why?  Because when I drive my 702 mile trip between homes, I generally wake up around three or four and take off while it is still a long way until morning is even thinking about breaking.  I enjoy the car rides, but I particularly enjoy driving in the early morning.

While I was coming out of Tulsa, the sky was starting to lighten.  I kept looking for the sun, hoping that it would make an appearance.  I looked to the eastern sky for over an hour, guessing where the sun would come up. 

The sun looked like it would come up right outside of my passenger window.  The colors seemed to radiate from that particular point.  Then I looked to the passenger’s corner of my windshield, and it looked like the incoming sunlight was the strongest right over the hill.  I was not sure where the sun would come up.  I would look over every couple of minutes and change my mind. 

Mile after mile I would look and think, “There!”  Then I would go back to driving (I’m sure the other drivers were thankful), then soon, I would look out the right side of my car again.  At one point I felt manic, almost like my soul was demanding the sun come up now so I could determine where it would rise from on the horizon.

Then the sun did come up.  It came from between the two spots I thought it would come out of.  It rose quickly and it was a beautiful ball of light.  I stared at the shimmering sun until it hurt my eyes, and then I turned back to the road, thankful for the lack of cars on this cold Sunday. 

It is not often that the sun is not nearby.  Generally, I am asleep when the sun is rising, or technically the earth spins around to greet it. However, it was borderline scary knowing that I didn’t know where the sun was.  I knew it was out there… somewhere, and I knew it was coming.  But when?  Where?  I did not know, so I was anticipating anything and hoping for everything.

Remember the sojourners in your life who are desperately seeking the sun.

Anticipation of a Different Sort

The start to this adventure feels different than the last time.  I’m a real college student now so the nerves aren’t hitting like they did in August.  The fear is gone… the unknown is suddenly known… My feeling is simply ready- ready to start the next chapter in my college career.

What is surprising to me is that I miss the novelty I felt last August.  Normally I hate the unknown, and I despise the butterfly-in-stomach feeling.  However, I like squelching that feeling more than I detest it, I suppose, and I miss my old adversary.  I wish I was a bright-eyed and bushy-tailed first semester freshman at the moment, ready to tackle anything with my new pens and college-ruled paper.  Now I’m a second semester freshman and things aren’t scaring me.

Perhaps that is why I am slightly uneasy about tomorrow- I am too relaxed!  Not that I am just horribly nervous or depressed (read: I don’t need any phone calls or checkups- I’m fine.) I simply feel off guard.  Not unprepared, just as if  I’m waiting to see from which direction traffic is coming and there is not a car in sight to indicate the answer.

So this entire ramble was to say this.  I’m almost too comfortable about tomorrow, but at the end of the day, I know I will do fine, because I have confidence in something, probably confidence in confidence alone, to quote one of my favorite movie-songs (five points to whoever figures it out).

Oh, and it is nice to be back.

Clott

New Year's Resolutions

What are we resolving to, anyway?  This time of year seems to be a magnet for broken promises, which by February is what many resolutions will become.  That idea of uselessness particularly compounds the depression, especially when we stop and consider that many New Year’s Resolutions are valuable, worthwhile, and should be made!

However when I look out and see what everyone is resolving to- better health, happier times, smoother living, I realize that all of these decisions and feeble promises points to our more optimistic side.  As human beings we desperately want to do the best and to see the best and on untarnished, almost virginal New Year’s Day, we can be whoever we want to be.  Suddenly, we control destiny; we are the helmsmen of our fate.

Why do we lose this personal resolve in one night’s sleep?  Tomorrow, when many of us awake, the morning will not feel the same as this morning, but in so many ways tomorrow is the same as today.  If life is to be a happy experience (and for your sake, and mine, I hope it is because, hey, it’s an once-in-a-lifetime opportunity) then we have to remember daily determination, that key of doing the hard things, which brings so many rewarding moments. 

Wake up tomorrow and keep the promises you made today- and even make a few more.  See tomorrow as a blank slate, just as you saw today.

And I will try to do my best, as well, to keep my New Year’s Resolution:

Stop preaching at people!

;)

I hope that all of my blog-o-sphere has kept healthy and wealthy in my absence.

Much heart,

Clott