In my dream, I visited a city, where each block had a tree decorated with flowers and balloons. When's the party? Or maybe there's going to be a parade? Or perhaps, as in Nigeria, the president is coming to town and people have prettied the place up. Then a neighbor told me of the tradition that when a person dies, the family sets up a memorial at the spot where they were killed.
The dream dissolves and I drive around in a daze. Here, armed men broke into a house and killed the resident after robbing him. Here, a car crashed into a tree while police were in pursuit. Here, a man on a stolen motorcycle lost control. Here, a taxi driver was shot on a Sunday morning while the church across the street was singing Alleluia. Here, a jealous boyfriend dispatched his competition. Here, a nine year old girl crossing the street after buying candy was hit by a truck. Here, a barfight ended with a knife. Here, a car collided with an 8 year old boy in a crosswalk, his parents just out of reach of his hands to pull him to safety. Here, the foul odor tipped off neighbors to the body stuffed in the trunk. Here, an evening stroll was cut short by gun shot. Here, a basketball game was lost, as was a life.
My neighborhood is a rosary of sorrows and at each station of the cross I pause to remember the suffering.
Monday, April 2, 2012
Sunday, April 10, 2011
The car of my dreams
I've been fantasizing recently about buying a diesel VW Beetle. It's a moderately irrational fantasy, given that A) we don't have a couple grand burning a hole in our pockets, and if we did, we should probably save it for a rainy day because we've had so much sunshine in our lives it seems that clouds should be gathering soon, and B) a two-door vehicle is completely impractical with small children. Still, every week or so I jump on craigslist to see what's out there. What's fueling this fantasy? Ha. no pun intended, but it's fuel (well, that, and the attractiveness of driving a vehicle that's described by some as "perky," a word that seems the antithesis of "minivan.") I watched a movie by that title last year and became convinced that biodiesel is the answer, at least to one of life's persistent questions--how to support a mobile society without being complicit in the global-warming, pollution-producing, war- justifying system of oil? Of course, I'm easily swayed by compelling arguments, and was ready to buy an electric car after seeing the movie Who Killed The Electric Car (except at that time there weren't any electric cars available because they were all dead, and now that they've been resurrected, they're way out of our price range). I hope no one makes a movie about natural gas cars, because then I'd have to rethink my position on the Marcellus Shale mess.
My fantasy has some merit. We prided ourselves on being a one car family for years, and only bought a second vehicle when we started the farm project. Darrel only uses the 1997 GMC Safari on rainy days and in super cold weather; other than that he bikes to work and the red van is dedicated to the farm. Three kids pushed us beyond the capacity of a sedan into a minivan, but I groan at the mileage we get with our kid carrier, a 2002 Honda Odyssey. A little, fuel efficient car for running errands while the kids are at school, going on solitary trips, driving individual kids to appointments, etc. would be perfect. What would be even better is if we could find someone to share it with. Any takers?
My fantasy has some merit. We prided ourselves on being a one car family for years, and only bought a second vehicle when we started the farm project. Darrel only uses the 1997 GMC Safari on rainy days and in super cold weather; other than that he bikes to work and the red van is dedicated to the farm. Three kids pushed us beyond the capacity of a sedan into a minivan, but I groan at the mileage we get with our kid carrier, a 2002 Honda Odyssey. A little, fuel efficient car for running errands while the kids are at school, going on solitary trips, driving individual kids to appointments, etc. would be perfect. What would be even better is if we could find someone to share it with. Any takers?
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Gy;m reflections
I've been going to the gym for about two months now. Some random reflections:
I think that perhaps one of the essential life questions is not, "Who am I and what have I done?" but "Who am I and what have I done with what I've been given?"
I still think there should be some way to harness the energy of all those treadmills, ellipticals, and stair climbers.
I've been happy with the amount of ethnic diversity (though still moderate) I've seen at the gym. One of my concerns when joining was that I was supporting a white middle class establishment.
I've also been surprised by the number of senior citizens working out, though as Darrel points out, "if anyone has a right/reason to be at a gym, it's senior citizens."
I think that perhaps one of the essential life questions is not, "Who am I and what have I done?" but "Who am I and what have I done with what I've been given?"
I still think there should be some way to harness the energy of all those treadmills, ellipticals, and stair climbers.
I've been happy with the amount of ethnic diversity (though still moderate) I've seen at the gym. One of my concerns when joining was that I was supporting a white middle class establishment.
I've also been surprised by the number of senior citizens working out, though as Darrel points out, "if anyone has a right/reason to be at a gym, it's senior citizens."
Sunday, March 6, 2011
Family harmony
New parents, learn from my mistake. Those nice CDs of lullabies, and later, the catchy children's songs? Don't let them into your house. Once your children hear them, they will settle for little else, and you will be stuck listening to the musical equivalent of "Fun with Dick and Jane" for the next 8 years of your life. The problem with catchy children's songs is that they're catchy, and you'll find yourself singing them at inopportune times.
But if my warning's come too late, then at least let me make some recommendations for your family's listening pleasure. In no particular order, the most bearable of the children's music genre that fills our soundwaves:
Let it Shine and Share This World by Jim Rule
God's Love is for Everybody and Can't Keep Quiet by Brian Moyer Suderman
Here Come the 123's by They Might Be Giants
Song of Wisdom from Old Turtle
If You're Not Going Far by Kentucky T Dutchersmith and the Rubber Band
Cada Nino/Every Child by Tish Hinojosa
To Such as These by Kim Thiessen for MCC
Water from Another Time by John McCutcheon
I dare say that if I were on a deserted island, or stuck in solitary confinement, it would be songs from these albums that would surface in my mind, not the hymns of old or the current trendy tunes. And perhaps it's not such a bad thing after all, to hear your kids belting out, "Love is better than the rest, it's better than success, and all that you possess!" (The Music Machine) or, "Alleluia, the great storm is over. Lift up your voice and sing!" (Water from Another Time). Just be warned that they may also remind you to "have patience, have patience, don't be in such a hurry."
But if my warning's come too late, then at least let me make some recommendations for your family's listening pleasure. In no particular order, the most bearable of the children's music genre that fills our soundwaves:
Let it Shine and Share This World by Jim Rule
God's Love is for Everybody and Can't Keep Quiet by Brian Moyer Suderman
Here Come the 123's by They Might Be Giants
Song of Wisdom from Old Turtle
If You're Not Going Far by Kentucky T Dutchersmith and the Rubber Band
Cada Nino/Every Child by Tish Hinojosa
To Such as These by Kim Thiessen for MCC
Water from Another Time by John McCutcheon
I dare say that if I were on a deserted island, or stuck in solitary confinement, it would be songs from these albums that would surface in my mind, not the hymns of old or the current trendy tunes. And perhaps it's not such a bad thing after all, to hear your kids belting out, "Love is better than the rest, it's better than success, and all that you possess!" (The Music Machine) or, "Alleluia, the great storm is over. Lift up your voice and sing!" (Water from Another Time). Just be warned that they may also remind you to "have patience, have patience, don't be in such a hurry."
Well, I didn't get what I wanted for my birthday*, but it was still a day full of blessings. DJ brought me breakfast in bed (after admonishing me to go back to sleep), Darrel baked up a storm in the kitchen, making French breakfast muffins, whole-wheat bread, AND pineapple upside down cake, Marina invented a new hand sign for "I love you," and Havah, though not her usual cheerful self, still laughed uproariously at the antics of her young friends. My life is full of life.
And yet, every year on my birthday, I think about planning a funeral service. I'm not fixated on my death, though I try to live moderately aware of the inevitability of it. A funeral is much like a wedding, except that you generally have 3-5 days to pull all the details together, instead of the more standard 6+ months of matrimonial planning. It seems to me that, in the event of my sudden demise, the knowledge that I have made some preparations would be comforting to those I have left behind, as well as helpful in a practical sort of way. On the other hand, I don't want to plan things out in too much detail, as there may be something theraputic for my family in the process of collaborating on the order of worship.
If I really wanted to be prepared, I would write something for my children to read. You can disagree, but I think the saddest death is one that leaves dependents. There is something terribly tragic about the death of a child, to be sure--a hole that can never be filled, the forever unanswered question of what fruit this life could have yielded, what shape it could have taken. I hold as my ideal those anabaptist martyrs who went to their deaths singing, and wonder what my children would hold on to if I were gone--what memories, what promises, what confidence, what lessons, what clarity of purpose?
Alas, like so many other things, thinking about something will have to suffice for actually doing it, as I have neither the time nor the strength to engage in that level of planning and reflection. I will, however, leave you with a song, which many days is the closest I come to a statement of faith. Like most songs, reading just the words is like trying to fly with one wing, but it will do for now.
Text and music by Colin Gibson, 1996
*What I really wanted was to sleep! Until noon, preferably, but a good 12 hours (or even 8!) would have been great. Hopefully Pastor Woody didn't notice me dozing off during the sermon--no reflection on him, just severe sleep deprivation. Maybe next year I'll get my wish. :)
And yet, every year on my birthday, I think about planning a funeral service. I'm not fixated on my death, though I try to live moderately aware of the inevitability of it. A funeral is much like a wedding, except that you generally have 3-5 days to pull all the details together, instead of the more standard 6+ months of matrimonial planning. It seems to me that, in the event of my sudden demise, the knowledge that I have made some preparations would be comforting to those I have left behind, as well as helpful in a practical sort of way. On the other hand, I don't want to plan things out in too much detail, as there may be something theraputic for my family in the process of collaborating on the order of worship.
If I really wanted to be prepared, I would write something for my children to read. You can disagree, but I think the saddest death is one that leaves dependents. There is something terribly tragic about the death of a child, to be sure--a hole that can never be filled, the forever unanswered question of what fruit this life could have yielded, what shape it could have taken. I hold as my ideal those anabaptist martyrs who went to their deaths singing, and wonder what my children would hold on to if I were gone--what memories, what promises, what confidence, what lessons, what clarity of purpose?
Alas, like so many other things, thinking about something will have to suffice for actually doing it, as I have neither the time nor the strength to engage in that level of planning and reflection. I will, however, leave you with a song, which many days is the closest I come to a statement of faith. Like most songs, reading just the words is like trying to fly with one wing, but it will do for now.
Nothing is lost on the breath of God, nothing is lost forever;
God's breath is love, and that love will remain, holding the world forever.
No feather too light, no hair too fine, no flower too brief in its glory,
No drop in the ocean, no dust in the air, but is counted and told in God's story.
Nothing is lost to the eyes of God, nothing is lost forever.
God sees with love, and that love will remain, holding the world forever.
No journey too far, no distance too great, no valley of darkness too blinding;
No creature too humble, no child too small for God to be seeking and finding.
Nothing is lost to the heart of God, nothing is lost forever.
God's heart is love, and that love will remain, holding the world forever.
No impulse of love, no office of care, no moment of life in its fullness;
No beginning too late, no ending too soon, but is gathered and known in its goodness.
Text and music by Colin Gibson, 1996
*What I really wanted was to sleep! Until noon, preferably, but a good 12 hours (or even 8!) would have been great. Hopefully Pastor Woody didn't notice me dozing off during the sermon--no reflection on him, just severe sleep deprivation. Maybe next year I'll get my wish. :)
Sunday, February 20, 2011
If the shoe fits
I currently own 16 pairs of shoes. I know this, because I just counted them. Among the more unique ones--tap shoes from my short-lived tap dancing experiement, snakeskin-trimmed sandals given to me in Nigeria 19 years ago, vegan Earth shoes, slippers given to me by my dear husband, one pair of waterproof wellingtons, and two pairs of shoes with cracked soles. And for the record, nothing even slightly resembling high heels.
I've been spending altogether too much time thinking about getting new shoes. On one hand, it's a perfectly reasonable desire. My main work shoes are wearing out and my feet are fatigued after a long day in the field. My sneakers are well past the 3-6 month lifespan recommended by fitness and podiatric professionals. My black shoes (the step up from sneakers, but appropriate with slacks) can only be worn in the absence of puddles, mud, or rain, since the cracked soles allow water to soak my socks from the bottom up.
From another perspective, 16 shoes is already a travesty. You can only wear one pair at a time, after all! Fashion rules notwithstanding, do I really need to own both black and brown casual shoes? Is comfort while working a nicety or a necessity?
And if I were going to purchase shoes, I'm faced with more quandries. My hard-to-fit feet make finding second hand shoes almost impossible, and even Gabes rarely has footwear in my size. If I buy new, should I go with USA made quality (at $179.99), durable but imported LL Bean ($49.99), local business clogs ($95.00), or cheap Chinese from Payless ($29.99)? Don't even get me started on children's shoes--Salvation Army is great if you can find the right pair, but if not, $16.99 for cheap Chinese is hard to pass up when you know the shoes will only last 6 months.
This desire to be a concientious consumer is a recurring theme in my life. I want to be mindful of how my choices affect the larger world, and I am inspired by those who are able to integrate their values more seamlessly and with less inconsistencies than I. I'm also aware that spending so much time thinking about the implications of living simply may be a form of idolatry, or at the least, a waste of mental energy. So for now, enough. But tomorrow I might go shopping.
I've been spending altogether too much time thinking about getting new shoes. On one hand, it's a perfectly reasonable desire. My main work shoes are wearing out and my feet are fatigued after a long day in the field. My sneakers are well past the 3-6 month lifespan recommended by fitness and podiatric professionals. My black shoes (the step up from sneakers, but appropriate with slacks) can only be worn in the absence of puddles, mud, or rain, since the cracked soles allow water to soak my socks from the bottom up.
From another perspective, 16 shoes is already a travesty. You can only wear one pair at a time, after all! Fashion rules notwithstanding, do I really need to own both black and brown casual shoes? Is comfort while working a nicety or a necessity?
And if I were going to purchase shoes, I'm faced with more quandries. My hard-to-fit feet make finding second hand shoes almost impossible, and even Gabes rarely has footwear in my size. If I buy new, should I go with USA made quality (at $179.99), durable but imported LL Bean ($49.99), local business clogs ($95.00), or cheap Chinese from Payless ($29.99)? Don't even get me started on children's shoes--Salvation Army is great if you can find the right pair, but if not, $16.99 for cheap Chinese is hard to pass up when you know the shoes will only last 6 months.
This desire to be a concientious consumer is a recurring theme in my life. I want to be mindful of how my choices affect the larger world, and I am inspired by those who are able to integrate their values more seamlessly and with less inconsistencies than I. I'm also aware that spending so much time thinking about the implications of living simply may be a form of idolatry, or at the least, a waste of mental energy. So for now, enough. But tomorrow I might go shopping.
Sunday, February 13, 2011
things that made me smile
Conversation with DJ:
DJ: Mom, I think I want to take piano lessons.
Me: um...well, that might be a possibility.
DJ: I'm going to ask Ms. Kerry if she can be my piano teacher. She has a piano in her house.
Me: I don't know if she gives piano lessons, but you can ask her.
DJ: But I'll do homework and violin before computer, and piano after, because it's too much to do three things before computer.
Me: Or maybe we could just save computer for the weekends. Maybe you could just play computer on Saturday. We only go to church one day a week; you could just play computer one day a week.
DJ: Yeah, that would save energy, too!
Marina's drawings of the family, complete with labels. I'm "Mam" and I have a ponytail.
Havah's babbling.
Saturday, 10:15 a.m. DJ returns from basketball. "Mom, we have to turn the radio on at 11:00 so we can listen to Wait Wait Don't Tell Me!"
DJ: Mom, I think I want to take piano lessons.
Me: um...well, that might be a possibility.
DJ: I'm going to ask Ms. Kerry if she can be my piano teacher. She has a piano in her house.
Me: I don't know if she gives piano lessons, but you can ask her.
DJ: But I'll do homework and violin before computer, and piano after, because it's too much to do three things before computer.
Me: Or maybe we could just save computer for the weekends. Maybe you could just play computer on Saturday. We only go to church one day a week; you could just play computer one day a week.
DJ: Yeah, that would save energy, too!
Marina's drawings of the family, complete with labels. I'm "Mam" and I have a ponytail.
Havah's babbling.
Saturday, 10:15 a.m. DJ returns from basketball. "Mom, we have to turn the radio on at 11:00 so we can listen to Wait Wait Don't Tell Me!"
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