Ski Resort

It is a strange thing to be at a ski resort and not ski. It’s kind of like being the only sober person at a party. Things look very weird, but those around you act like this is normal.

For example, ski boots. I know that ski boots are designed to give the maximum amount of protection, but when the person is off the skis they walk like a Raptor or a sandpiper, stealth not included. CLOMP! CLOMP! CLOMP, this mass of reptilian dinosaur-walking creatures move towards and away from the slopes. Adults tug little children clomping along, some children accepting their lot for the day, others clearly uncomfortable in their inability to run. On the slopes, grace is given. In the lodge they look just plain bizarre.

Snowboarders walk more normally in their boots, but one might say that their weirdness may be a more stable quality.

Driving to Colorado

I’ve made the drive many times. This one was pretty hairy! We encountered snow and ice and poorly plowed roads. It was a long exhausting drive.

We had followed weather computer models and attempted to navigate around the storms that were blasting the Midwest. We drove I-90 into South Dakota and we were attempting to predict where we dropped down to I-80. We decided we would stay in Mitchell, and head down Highway 83 that would take us into Nebraska.

After driving for 5 hours we pulled up to a Motel 6 and I checked in. The guy behind the counter looked like Bozo the clown, whose hair had not been combed since waking up. He had a cigarette case in his pocket and his teeth and fingers had that serious amber hue to them of a smoker that had practiced his art for a long time.

The next morning I attempted to get on the Internet at the motel, not an easy task at a Motel 6. I was in the front lobby and Bozo’s wife didn’t have a clue as to why it wasn’t connecting. I gave up and was going to make a call. Someone at the gas station said that there was a DOT building just before the freeway.

We slipped our way to the building and I entered it, walking the linoleum floors, my shoes squeaking from snow melt and slush. I couldn’t tell if I had entered the right door,, all the offices were empty except for one. A middle-aged man was writing at his desk. I asked him if he knew the conditions of the roads ahead. He turned to his computer and showed me all the roads in South Dakota, which were cleared and which were not. It helped greatly with navigation.

I was also receiving phone calls from a friend in Denver updating me on conditions of the road ahead.

We made it to our destination in a much longer time than we had hoped for. Cell phones and computers made the road more manageable. I don’t care what electronics are involved, navigation through bad parts still meant you had to put in the work to make something happen. I don’t want to have to drive something like that anytime soon.

Finding a church

As I continue my journey of faith and grow in new ways, one of the difficult things is finding a church. As the old ways of faith die and I move towards understanding the many facets of grace, I find myself in a grey world where I still function in both worlds. Everything on church web sites I visit seems to perk my interest and raise red flags, at the same time.

In matters of faith, I am anxious moving out of my comfort zone. I strive to eraticate dysfunctional places of faith from my past. I feel the need to push myself into uncomfortable places in my faith journey, but not to dysfunctional places. I want to stretch my faith in trusting God's lead. I do not want to find myself back in places where I am shackled by conformity.

I know every church has its vision. I just wish I could find one that matched mine. Boy doesn't that sound conceited.

Incidentally the picture can be found at this URL.http://www.co.ozaukee.wi.us/Photos/CourthouseSteepleAtSunset.jpg

A Christian Agnostic

On a podcast discussion of a Christian and an atheist, they defined labels: Christian, atheist and agnostic. The atheist was very articulate in differentiating an atheist from an agnostic. He stated that he thought there may be such a thing as a Christian agnostic. As I mulled that idea around in my head, I wondered if I might not be…a Christian agnostic. I don’t think I’ve been one all my life, but as I am getting older and I am slowly losing the belief that I am the center of the universe, I think some form of agnosticism may define what I believe.

www.dictionary.com defines agnostic as follows:
1. One who believes that it is impossible to know whether there is a God.
2. One who is skeptical about the existence of God but does not profess true atheism.
3. One who is doubtful or noncommittal about something.

How do I stack up to these meanings? I believe God exists. Scratch definition #1. I’m not skeptical that God exists. Scratch #2. I have struggled with doubt and commitment when it comes to God, so there may be a fit there.

In past years, I have seen God work in areas I was raised to believe He didn’t work in. Getting older I have seen God grow in size. Of course I was seeing new facets of God that I had NO idea existed. The more I see it, the less I want to box God into what I think He should or would do. It's His world and He needs no defending, He can take care of Himself...while He is taking care of me... and a gazillion other people. I want to refocus my thinking to realize that I don't know all the ways that God can act. Is that agnosticism?

Here comes one of those pesky agnostic thoughts. What if in referring to God, "He" doesn't apply. I know we are on safe ground referring to deity as a "He" from how He is referred to in scripture, but what if that is only because that is the best adjective in our language and cognitive structural makeup to be able to comprehend a small part of who God is in our feeble minds. "He" refers to a gender, and maybe God is no gender, or both genders. We are made in "His" image, male and female, so in some way both genders represent an aspect of "Him".

If in our eternal life God drops the curtain and reveals His thinking I expect to be blown away by how little I understood in my time on earth. Hopefully God can protect our heads from exploding when we see "Him". Maybe that is why God told Moses that no one can see "Him" and live.

And here is my agnosticism exposed. I don't know how and where God is working. I don't know what He is going to do next, and I'm becoming more comfortable in my doubt. I know He loves me, but I don’t know all the manifestations of that love. It makes the world more exciting to watch for the next unexpected appearances of God. So keep your eyes AND your minds open wide. God is coming…in fact God is here!

At least I think so...

Tears

Tears are so mysterious. We approach them cautiously or avoid them fiercely. For the past several weeks as the quarter is winding down, I have noticed tears from some of my students. I walk into class and pass a student wiping tears away while talking on a cell phone in the parking lot. Later when she joins the class she sits quietly in a corner dabbing her eyes randomly.

On another day another student has runny red eyes and it appears that she will burst into tears if I call on her. I don't.

Another student waits patiently for the class to file out and then apologizes for the time she has missed. As I inquire about her circumstances, she unpacks a burden in the room with tears streaming down her face. She apologizes. She is sorry for exposing her tears.

I watch a documentary on the AIDS epidemic in Uganda. At an orphanage for chidren of AIDS victims that have died, the children stand around and sing a song. I am struck first by the antiphonal beauty of the melody, but then the camera focuses on on the faces of the children, many of them with tears rolling down their cheeks. The narrator explains that the song allows them to express their grief.

In my years of working with people, very few have not apologized for shedding tears. They need to be reassured that their tears are handled with sanctity. Tears are such mystery that we hold them in awe. Tears change the climate of a conversation. Tears are a nonverbal expression of such power that we try to control their very appearance. And yet tears can heal us. Tears can express sometimes, what we cannot verbalize.

I am reminded again that tears are not to be feared, but they are to be treated reverently.

Justice

"Prison cell death deprives the world of justice" This is the headline of an article yesterday about the death of Slobodan Milosevic, a man who aspired to be Hitler for our era. He fell pathetically short in terms of numbers, but similar in terms of ideals.

Why is the world deprived of justice? We need to declare the man be put to death to make it count? Why can't we be happy that the world has one less bad guy? Maybe the trial would have demonstrated that he was in charge of all the ethnic cleansing killings. What does it matter? He had been neutralized with his removal from power, and now he has been neutralized from the world all together.

Unfortunately, his spirit lives on... in all those who treasure him and what he stood for.

The talking hair stylist

I got my hair cut yesterday. Working for a long time in the therapy business and now teaching, I don't mind people not talking when they are doing my hair. I don't have a deepseated need to have them know my business, and I do fine not needing to know theirs. Usually when I get my hair cut, (which is rarely) I sit quietly in my own thoughts and let the operator do battle with my hair.

The operator yesterday didn't seem to get the hint. It was like she was following a script, regardless of whether any other actors were reciting their lines. She asked if I had children, how old they were, where I worked, what I taught, and on, and on, and on. I answered with short answers and not elaborating on anything hoping she would take a hint and cease her barrage. Nothing doing, she kept talking. The woman seemed driven to keep the conversation alive.

I realize she was young. Older operators don't seem to need to converse if the client doesn't want to. I don't know what the young thing was attempting to do. Maybe she thought she was giving me good customer service.

She did give a wonderful scalp massage. The only thing that would have been more enjoyable would have been silence.