Anywho, I've got a couple bits of life and then some ponderings to share.
Life
- I went to see The Wiz last Thursday because one of my friends from my corps was in it. I went with a group of my other corps friends and we had a wonderful time. Unfortunately, they removed the character I was when we did The Wiz in high school. Goodbye, yellow brick road.
- I went to Portland this past Caturday night and saw a dead owl in the street... I couldn't help it, I touched it, and then someone who had gathered in the crowd of people around the owl- because, let's face it, a dead owl in a cobble stone street is pretty badass, so people want to see it- anyway, this person said, "I'm going to call animal control before someone touches it and gets scabies." #jolo.
- I really like my Maine friends. I have like 25 now. We go to the theatre (see above), read Robert Frost on the beach, and eat lollipops with our Narragansett. Classy!
- I've been both sick and busy recently so I'm running behind on my posting.
- I bought beef, chicken, AND alcohol (wine) the other day at the grocery store because I was feeling frivolous. I am so happy I'm not eating lentils this week.
- It gets dusky at 3:30...... I have said that I've officially sworn of tanning beds, but I don't know if I can make it against the SAD. Maybe if I wear SPF 50 in the bed and just soak up the D it'll be okay?
- Dating as an (emerging) adult is so. much. easier.
- There is snow on the ground this morning, and I like it.
Ponderings
I’m apt to find myself in surprising situations wondering
how on earth I got to be in those situations, usually in a good way, and
usually because I let life float me where it so pleases. Some favorite examples
so far:
Example 1: Going to Queens.
Example 2: Being a celebrity for a night in an open-air disco nightclub in Lijiang, China.
Example 3: Living and having a life in Maine.
Because I have a life here, I have friends here, and because
I have friends, I get to do neat things with wonderful people (I have a wicked
winter fun-time agenda lined up- downhill skiing, snowmobiling, snow shoeing,
learning to knit). A neat thing I got to do this past weekend because I have
friends in my life is attend a Beth Moore conference held at the Lewiston
Coliseé, gratis. For those that are not familiar with Beth Moore, she is a
bible teacher who narrows in on little bits of scripture and explains the depth
of the ancient language it was written in and the historical context in which
it occurred so that the true significance of what’s being said is what’s being
understood. She also writes bible studies and her study on the book of
Revelation totally changed my understanding of God… it was a catalyst in
initiating the demi-pilgrimage I’m on now, actually. I’ve been to two of her conferences
previously, one live in Charlotte and one as a simulcast in Raleigh. Because of
this, I knew what to expect, but didn’t know what I would take away from it.
The nugget I took away with me was exactly
what I needed.
A friend from my corps happened to have bought a ticket to
come to the conference without knowing if she knew anyone going, so she and I
ended up going together once we learned we were both going. On the way there
that evening, we talked about how discouraging Lewiston can get because it has
so much need and often feels like a dark place. It can make you feel powerless
in instigating change.
Beth began the first night by sharing a picture she took
near her hotel across the river in Auburn and leading into Lewiston. The
picture was of a sign graffitied with the word ICHABOD. I knew from my study on
Revelation what the word meant- NO GLORY. Beth went on to say that according to
scripture, no one may write the word
ichabod on the people of God; no one could write ichabod on this place.
She then began her message which was based on the story of Caleb
and being different (not in a weird homeschool way). In a nutshell, Caleb is
part of a secret twelve-man spy team that surveys this land that God has told
the Israelites will be theirs, but there are some very strong big guys
inhabiting the land there already, so the spy team reports back to the
Israelites that they can’t go in there because the giant guys make them look
like grasshoppers that could easily be stomped out. Caleb says, “No! We can get
in there! God told us we could. Because God told us we can get in there, we’re
able- well able- to get in there.”
The piece about being not just able, but well able resonated strongly with me. Life
fell perfectly into place for me to come to this job. I know it’s an opportunity
that God opened up to me. Everything that’s happened to me in my life so far
has equipped me to do work in Lewiston, so I’m not just able to be here; I’m well able to be here. And as far as
instigating change, I’m thinking of Mother Teresa right now: “God has not
called me to be successful; [God] has called me to be faithful.” If I see success,
I attribute it to God, not anything I constructed or devised.
I’m convinced all God requires of us in order to be
successful in whatever role we’re lead to is to show up and say, “I’m here! Let’s
do this.” I can show up with my imperfections, my impatience, my incompetency and
still complete my task if I’ll only be faithful. I read this summer that scripture says, “righteousness is a gift
of God,” it’s not something we can create or act out. To receive said gift, we
must simply be faithful; cling to God like we’ve got nothing else, because in
the end, we have nothing else.
The way home and way over next day, my friend and I discussed the night’s
lesson, each of us feeling refreshed by the affirmation that we are well able. As I walked up the steps of
the Coliseé on the second day, meditating on this place called “Ichabod”- no glory- the sun’s
golden light was beginning to break the threshold of horizon, of mill tenements
délabré, and guilding the skyline’s peaks. Rising above all of Lewiston’s
buildings is St. Peter’s and St. Paul’s Basilica, a huge stone, gothic Roman
Catholic church (so huge it’s named for two saints), built by French Canadians
when they settled here. It has 8 steeples divided equally between 2 towers, and
from the summit of the stairs of the Coliseé, over my shoulder, bathed in the
brilliance of morning, they shone like a crown gracing the top of the still-dark,
urban heart of the city. A crown for Ichabod!; the topsy-turvy kingdom. We are well able to do this work; the promise
already made and the victory already won.
God is always, always speaking in every, every thing.
JB
No comments:
Post a Comment