Month: March 2010 (Page 3 of 4)

This blog (if I were more postmodern, I’d refer to it as my “space”), is one of my favorite things to do. I won’t lie. Lots of people put off their hobbies as “oh it’s nothing.” But, no, not really. I look forward to the times when conversing with someone and a thought creeps in, so that I feel “I’m going to have to blog about that.” It feeds into my fb account and I’ve had a few people who have complemented me on some of my posts. It makes me happy to know that someone felt some sort of satisfaction after reading (as opposed to “well, that’s 10 minutes I’ll never get back”). It’s a personal accomplishment that I once wrote prose about a lasagna and got over 10 comments on it.

It’s a dream that someday I can spend my time and energies reading interesting things and talking to interesting people so that I can somehow tell their stories and have people enjoy them. Part of the satisfaction comes from completing the piece itself. Another part comes from knowing that someone else (preferably multiple someones) experiences a benefit as well. Win win. Win.

So you can imagine my disappointment when I learned that I’m not the natural writer-type.

I just started Anne Lamott’s book Bird by Bird // Instructions on writing and life, and she goes on about the different writers with whom she has interacted. How they love poetry and see the world differently and have these artsy quirks. I am not one of these people. I love to read, but the classics aren’t where I spend my time. I like pretty things, but art and sculpture and even nature sometimes loom above my head. And I just don’t like poetry. Never have.

I’m not artsy. Last week I attempted to create personalized stationary and there were tears. The stationary required only one piece of clipart (ganked from google images) and 3 text boxes. All the same font. I can’t sew my own curtains, crochet my own hats or even accessorize my own wardrobe. I’ve been wearing the same earrings since 1999. And painting? JJ won’t even let me at the walls with a single color and a roller. Who am I kidding?! I couldn’t even pick out the paint COLOR on my own!

I have a few slight quirks. I like to eat the broken tortilla chips. My favorite aisle in Target is the office supplies section. And nothing excites me more than filling in a new calendar or planner. But, unlike the artsy brilliant types, this doesn’t give me opportunity to see the world in a different way. I don’t have a different perspective. I’m just exceptionally organized and inflexible.

So unlike the hero in many stories who finds out that he’s “different” and spends his life attempting to assimilate and hide his inconsistencies, I had the exact opposite downer day. I’m realizing how insanely normal I am. Well, at least I’m a bit odd in my dissatisfaction with my normalness.

Sometimes it’s not what is said, it’s how it’s put into the story.

Jesus said, “What can I do for you?” The blind man said, “Rabbi, I want to see.” “On your way,” said Jesus. “Your faith has saved and healed you.”

The story of the blind man comes on the heals – and in the same chapter as – the story of the rich man asking Jesus how to get into heaven, and then the Sons of Zebedee trying to finangle prime seating in the days of glory. Only recently have I began to appreciate the master storyteller and how the placement of the pericope means as much as the story itself. Sometimes it’s not so much the single character that gives us insight into the message as the multiple characters as they stand in a line.

I’ve always enjoyed the story of the rich man. He’s a nice guy, has always obeyed, and goes the distance just to assure that he’s doing alright. Unfortunately Jesus tells him he needs to part with his good fortune in order to truly inherit the kingdom. Bummer. Now this passage has been taken for more rides than the tildewhirl. Some find justification in being rich by an old biblical urban legend of the gate in which a camel had to get on its knees to get through, saying it’s ok to be rich, but you have to bow low. I personally think that’s something rich people say to feel better about being rich. The disciples are slightly disappointed to know that the rich might not inherit the kingdom because, to them, the rich can have anything they want. So if they can’t have it, who can?! Apparently the idea that there are some things money can’t buy isn’t quite on the radar.

Then James & John do their thing, asking to be on the right and left of Jesus. I believe in other passages it’s their mother that asks this request, but here the boys gather up the courage. I was thinking about it in context… there are a lot of people who are expecting Jesus to save them, but it’s a highly political view of Messiah. They’re making their way to the City and something Big is going to Happen, but I really think the disciples (and not just the 12) are anticipating, as JJ would call it, The Revolution (in current day context, this is when our family will head to Montana to “live off the land”. I really should blog about THAT sometime).

Jesus even flat out tells the disciples that when they get to the City, instead of leading what seems a successful revolt, he will be handed over to the authorities and killed. But they just don’t get it. Or don’t want to.

So this idea that there’s a coming Kingdom is very real. The rich guy tries to assure his citizenship through being good. The Zebedee boys try to get in by the “who you know” methodology. And in both instances Jesus tries and tries to explain that it’s not what you do or have or who you know, it’s your dependence on God that will walk you through the gate. He says it straight up: “No chance at all if you think you can pull it off by yourself. Every chance in the world if you let God do it.”

And then we meet the beggar. “Mercy, have mercy on me!” he cries. In other words, “I can’t do it myself, I don’t even deserve it, but please!” He wants something. He can’t buy it. He can’t coerce power to get it. And he knows it.

Jesus says, this is the kind of faith that saves and heals.

It’s not the stuff, or the lack of stuff. It’s not the perfection one feels when abiding by the rules. It’s not being a somebody, or even a no-body (because the disciples were, largely, a bunch of no-bodies). I think it might be the value you place on it; what you think it can do for you. I’d go as far to say as religion can be put in here as well. Jesus warns of the yeast of the Pharisees more than once, because of their belief in what it could do for them.

If I could just have… if i could just be… if I could only talk to you…. as soon as I can… we always think there’s another gate into the kingdom – a back door – but Jesus says right here that living in a state of knowing your need, your powerlessness, walks you down the red carpet.

when we got out of the car this afternoon in the be-a-u-tiful weather the little man wanted to do some wondering. it’s quite amazing to think that this is his first chance to really explore the outdoor world. cracks in the pavement, bugs, mulch… last summer he was pretty immobile so his explorations only included the grass blades or green beans that mama provided in front of him. now the the driveway is his laboratory and he was digging it.

one of the especially cute things he did was in effort to continue his walking from the driveway into the garage. there is a *slight* step up where the concrete starts. H, with his mother’s confidence with all physical challenges, decided it was quite the stretch for his little feet, so he decided to drop to his knees for an old-fashioned crawl to get across such a ravine. it cracked me up, seeing as how the “step” was no more than an inch high.

it made me realize, again, that sometimes our challenges are all a matter of perspective. sometimes it’s a lack of confidence, sometimes it’s because our obstacles are, in relative comparison to our size, a bit overwhelming. sometimes we just have to learn that we do, indeed, have within us the power to overcome, but you may have to hold mommy’s hand to find that out.