Author: Michele Minehart (Page 295 of 311)

last year i helped my mother-in-law plan a prayer walk for maundy thursday that was jesus’ last week, but through the eyes of different people who were there. I really enjoyed creating the entire event, and this morning at church some of it started to come back to me… but this time instead of thinking “how will this help people understand….” i was able to contemplate for my own benefit. i resolved to contemplate a different person from the easter week each day this week building up to easter sunday.

the first person (or group of people, really) that got my attention was a person in the crowd greeting jesus as he came into town. year after year in palm sunday we wave the branches and celebrate the little kids, but i still think we miss the atmosphere. it couldn’t have become clearer to me as i heard the narrator at church this morning read “hosanna! savior” but sounded as if he was reading the ingredients to chicken kiev. this isn’t uncommon in bible-reading world. but i think it reaches its height of missing-the-point when the scripture is telling about a parade.

i got to thinking about how the U of F just won the national title and there are signs EVERYWHERE in town. big parade to welcome them home. or the way upper lined the streets when the boys left town for columbus. homecoming: parade, cheers, shouting… i don’t think i’m too out of line to assume that a group of people who are welcoming the one who will rescue them would be slightly more enthusaistic and passionate with their vocal inflection than those celebrating a yearly ritual of chicken bbq and pretty girls on a hay wagon.

so as i reflect what this event would have been like (or was like, perhaps more accurately) for Joe Schmoe (or Yosef Schmotzky), i can’t help but gravitating toward the hope that would be present in the air. granted, they thought jesus was going to save them largely in a political way rather than in a spiritual sense, but nonetheless the hopes are up that this guy is the real deal and soon the weight will be lifted. of course there is the lingering doubt, too, when you see the guy on a colt: “this guy is going to bring our people out of this?”

but i think more strongly is the feeling of “this guy has got be the one. he has too. i can’t do this any longer…”

we all know what’s coming this week. that crowd disapates. the discipes scatter. but easter teaches us that jesus gives good reason for hope. and the way he goes about doing His work might not seem to fit expectations and life’s not always a parade, but there’s a reason that we’re drawn to the side of the road and that’s because, in the words of a great songwriter, we all know that “i need something broken fixed inside of me.”

i miss the good ol’ days of xanga where i could list my “currently reading”. i just bought Mark Steele’s (Flashbang) newest: half life die already. so far it’s holding up to expectations, which are exceptionally high.

today in an interview a candidate said a phrase that i had to write down. she was talking about irate customers (I’ve been interviewing call center people) and she said, “you just can’t dwell on it.” I wrote it down: check out my company notepad, it says “dwell on it.”

back in my Hebrew days i learned that it has synonimic meaning with living. a dwelling place -as in “how lovely is your dwelling place….” and don’t even tell me you didn’t start singing the early 90s rendition in your head – a dwelling place is the place which you reside, live, are currently inhabiting. that’s not the BDB definition, that’s the MWM def.

but my thought was… wow, that’s pretty sad if a person is living only in the experience of the irate customer. because, well, that’s not really living. that’s just agony. there’s so much more out there.

jj and i had a discussion this evening about parallel thoughts. he dwells in the past. nothing ever measures up to what he knows from experience. i dwell in the future. when X, Y and Z happen, then [fill in appropriate reason to begin enjoying things]. neither are friendly neighborhoods to set up shop.

we sometimes joke about our tendency to live a neighborhood away from “nice.” our house in upper was in a dumpy area, but a brisk walk away was a nice new development. our current home had it’s glory days sometime in the early 90s, but over by the electric tower is a new subdivision, complete with a “lake” (don’t be fooled. it’s a pond).

i’m shocked we didn’t see the similarities before. not only is our house just outside of “nice” but our ability to be content is just outside our grasp because of our dwelling. and not because we’re banging at the door and can’t get in… but rather we’re finding reasons to linger around the front or back door, hesitent to move in. that’s not so much the fault of the residence, but the potential occupants.

If there is one person in the entire bible that i can say i have a good handle on what he thought or i can say that i understand his feelings, it would be the older brother in the story of the prodigal son. i can’t say much (no, ang, this isn’t a reflection of you…), but i AM that guy, because i’m a jerk like that. you know the feeling – i want a party to be thrown for me for doing the right thing. but never in a million years would i trade a party for what life has brought the prodigal.

i was watching Criminal Minds on wednesday and one detective told the other (formerly Greg of the Dharma era): “That’s not your conscience talking, it’s your ego.”

Good stuff to chew on, self.

On a happier note, Henry has slept through the night for 2 in a row. i’d like to think we’re on to something here. thanks, rebecca for the pep talk.