Mom tells me that most of life is you muddle through the best you can, and she's right. You aren't going to get everything right. You won't always know what's right. You're going to mess up badly. You're going to get hurt and you're going to hurt other people. That's not what life is about, but it's a big part of life. And you just have to deal with it.
But love, if it is real love, conquers even this.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Monday, February 16, 2009
chocolate chip courage
Sometimes love means baking cookies for your friend. Sometimes love means telling your kid he can't eat eight cookies at five o'clock because they'll mess up his appetite for dinner. Sometimes two people are holding cookie jars and they want nothing more than to give each other cookies but it's dinner time.
Freedom doesn't mean license, and patience is a virtue.
Maybe you want someone's approval, and maybe they're telling you to hurry up. And maybe they think you're walking slowly because you're afraid, and maybe you are afraid. But there is a difference between courage and recklessness, and sometimes running is foolish. Sometimes it takes more courage to walk slowly and let them think you a coward than it does to run.
Maybe recklessness is cowardice, merely fear of disapproval.
It isn't time yet to run.
Freedom doesn't mean license, and patience is a virtue.
Maybe you want someone's approval, and maybe they're telling you to hurry up. And maybe they think you're walking slowly because you're afraid, and maybe you are afraid. But there is a difference between courage and recklessness, and sometimes running is foolish. Sometimes it takes more courage to walk slowly and let them think you a coward than it does to run.
Maybe recklessness is cowardice, merely fear of disapproval.
It isn't time yet to run.
Saturday, February 14, 2009
underground woman
The snow was like an early December snow--not too cold but beautiful. Snow fairies fluttered beneath the streetlights. [G] was hungry and I didn't want to go to sleep just yet, so we walked up the hill, making our way up the narrow path that had been tromped out before us, connecting the ill-designed sidewalks. I hopped in front of him and followed his right and left movements, cutting him off so he couldn't walk next to me.
He laughed. "Mary, you're so light I can just do this--" and I felt his hands beneath my ribs and when my feet hit the ground I was behind him. I laughed and slammed into him, but he kept his balance.
I thought for a minute.
"Mary, stop thinking about it and have fun," he said.
Then I got shoved into the snow.
Dr. Jackson says that the secret of the angels is this: obey before you hear. And I think as imago Dei that's what we're supposed to do--if we are ourselves, if we allow ourselves to be who we really, truly are--then we will obey naturally. We won't have to anal-yze "God says to do X, and God is all-knowing and loves me completely, so X is in my best interest." We won't have to think about it, we will just do it habitually. It will be cemented in our brains the way it's cemented in to brush away the hair that falls into our eyes--we just do it and don't think about it.
We used to be able to do this naturally, but our nature was wounded in the garden.
How can we do right when we don't know what right is? Sometimes we don't know. Sometimes we have to take a leap of faith--say a prayer and go with our gut and hope we do right, but know that if we do wrong while trying to do right, things will turn out okay in the end. St. Francis of Assisi built a church.
Sometimes we do need to think--to examine our conscience and find out where we continually screw up. Then make an effort to create habits of doing right. If you habitually do right when you know what's right, your gut instinct is more likely to be correct when you don't know what's right.
The basketball player who thinks about his shooting in practice doesn't have to think about his shooting during the game. He just does it.
So if I practice love--practice kindness, practice courage, practice patience--then my gut instinct is more likely to be right. And if it's wrong, well, I've done my best and He can't really hold me accountable, can He?
He laughed. "Mary, you're so light I can just do this--" and I felt his hands beneath my ribs and when my feet hit the ground I was behind him. I laughed and slammed into him, but he kept his balance.
I thought for a minute.
"Mary, stop thinking about it and have fun," he said.
Then I got shoved into the snow.
Dr. Jackson says that the secret of the angels is this: obey before you hear. And I think as imago Dei that's what we're supposed to do--if we are ourselves, if we allow ourselves to be who we really, truly are--then we will obey naturally. We won't have to anal-yze "God says to do X, and God is all-knowing and loves me completely, so X is in my best interest." We won't have to think about it, we will just do it habitually. It will be cemented in our brains the way it's cemented in to brush away the hair that falls into our eyes--we just do it and don't think about it.
We used to be able to do this naturally, but our nature was wounded in the garden.
How can we do right when we don't know what right is? Sometimes we don't know. Sometimes we have to take a leap of faith--say a prayer and go with our gut and hope we do right, but know that if we do wrong while trying to do right, things will turn out okay in the end. St. Francis of Assisi built a church.
Sometimes we do need to think--to examine our conscience and find out where we continually screw up. Then make an effort to create habits of doing right. If you habitually do right when you know what's right, your gut instinct is more likely to be correct when you don't know what's right.
The basketball player who thinks about his shooting in practice doesn't have to think about his shooting during the game. He just does it.
So if I practice love--practice kindness, practice courage, practice patience--then my gut instinct is more likely to be right. And if it's wrong, well, I've done my best and He can't really hold me accountable, can He?
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Monday, February 2, 2009
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
unexpectations
It's sort of a weird experiment in humility, and I didn't expect that. I feel like I'm playing with fire and making things up as I go along. "Welcome to a man's world," a male friend tells me. Funny. I hear that a lot.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
little bugger was right
Sometimes running is cowardice and sometimes running is prudence, and sometimes it's hard to distinguish between the two. Ignoring red flags is stupidity, but inventing red flags is cowardice. And it may seem that everyone else is diving into the pool, but that doesn't mean you must either dive in or stay out. There is a ladder and the ladder has a railing, and as long as you cling tightly to the hand of your Father in heaven, you can get your feet wet without drowning.
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