I feel like I ought to apologize for what I did today.
At first I tried to talk him out of it. But then I realized he was just like me, and he was probably sick of people trying to talk him out of things like this. I know I'm sick of people trying to talk me out of it. I guess the difference is that I know it's ridiculous, and I'm not sure he does.
If someone at home finds out what I've done, I'll post the story. Else I'll wait until I'm safely back at Hillsdale. Look for it Sunday night.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Monday, March 16, 2009
I hate shopping for clothes.
I had a package to mail, then I was heading out to Miller Road. I hoped to return with a pair of jeans and a Tekiela book, but also in the back of my mind were hiking shoes, spankies (for skirts at swing dance and worn-through jeans), toothpaste, cough drops, and any sort of food I could bring back to college with me.
I went to the post office and spent about $10 mailing the package, feeling vaguely guilty for mailing it the cheapest way so I'd have more money for clothing. They said 5-10 business days, 5 would be right on time. I went to the bank and deposited a check, and then I was off to Miller Road.
First stop: Target. I browsed the clearance racks first, then the regular racks. I found a few pairs of jeans that might fit, checked the prices, put a few back, and walked into the fitting room.
How I envy men and their easy-to-use sizing system! Women's clothing is sized in an utterly arbitrary fashion, probably designed to assure us that we're not fat. In addition to this, we're all shaped in frustratingly unique ways and we all have different ideas on beauty and modesty. The fitting room is one of the most frustrating place in the world. You start with a simple question: do the pants fit? And the answer is ridiculously complicated. I tried to map it out in an easy-to-use flowchart, but I gave up. Try this:
Question 1: Do the pants fit?
++If you answered NO, try a different pair and go back to Question 1.
++If you answered YES, you are a liar.
++If you answered MAYBE, go on to Question 2.
Question 2: How do they fit around the waist?
++If you answered WAY TOO TIGHT, try a larger or smaller size and go back to Question 1.
++If you answered WAY TOO LOOSE, try a larger or smaller size and go back to Question 1.
++If you answered JUST RIGHT, you are a liar.
++If you answered SORTA TIGHT, remember that jeans stretch out after a while and go on to Question 3.
++If you answered SORTA LOOSE, remember that you can always wear a belt and go on to Question 3.
Question 3: How long are they?
++If you answered WAY TOO LONG, try a larger or smaller size and go back to Question 1.
++If you answered WAY TOO SHORT, try a larger or smaller size and go back to Question 1.
++If you answered JUST RIGHT, you are a liar.
++If you answered SORTA SHORT, try a larger or smaller size and go back to Question 1.
++If you answered SORTA LONG, remember that you can hem them and go on to Question 4.
Question 4: How do they fit around your butt and thighs?
++If you answered PRETTY SURE THESE ARE GUY JEANS, try a larger or smaller size and go back to Question 1.
++If you answered MY BUTT GOT SWALLOWED UP BY A DENIM BLUE WHALE, try a larger or smaller size and go back to Question 1.
++If you answered THIS WOULD DISTRACT EVEN THE MOST CHASTE MEN, try a larger or smaller size and go back to Question 1.
++If you answered I CAN COUNT THE CHANGE IN MY POCKET BY TWISTING AROUND AND LOOKING IN THE MIRROR, try a larger or smaller size and go back to Question 1.
++If you answered JUST RIGHT, you are a liar.
Question 5: Do you like them?
++If you answered THEY'LL DO, then go pay for them and leave the store before you get distracted elsewhere.
++If you answered YES, you are a liar.
++If you answered NO, then try on a shirt that you already know will look good. This will make you feel a little better about the jeans. Then go pay for the jeans, because you've already spent three hours at this store and there's no sense in spending another three hours elsewhere.
I tried on a handful of jeans at Target, but didn't find anything. Fashion Bug was a couple stores down, and I figured why not try my luck there? I parked and got out of the car.
Fashion Bug tried to get around this problem with their Right Fit revolution. "Try on a revolution,” the sign said. “What is RIGHT FIT? It’s the revolutionary result of the most extensive fit study in 60 years. Our unique fit and sizing system is based on 3 different body shapes: straight, moderately curvy and curvy. Resized with Right Fit technology, L.A. Blues jeans and Studio 1940 dress pants are now available in plus and misses Right Fit sizes.”
Right Fit was color-coded. There were signs on the walls and tags on the clothing. I perused them eagerly, hoping to cut down on fitting-room time. The signs read:
Do your current pants or jeans:
fit your waist, but are baggy? fit your hips/thighs, but have to be unbuttoned? Try RIGHT FIT YELLOW.
fit at the waist? but are slightly big in the thighs and hips? Try RIGHT FIT RED.
have to be cinched at the waist? or have a gap at the back? Try RIGHT FIT BLUE.
Already I don't fit! I needed Right Fit Green. Sometimes I feel like unbuttoning my jeans, but I have to tie them up and at least two people have made fun of me for the gap in the back. I picked up two pairs, a blue and a yellow, in size 2 and walked to the fitting room.
I swam. For good measure, I put both my legs into the right leg of the blue pair, and hopped around until I saw a mermaid in the mirror. While I pulled my own jeans back on, I glanced at the tag.
Size 5.
Turned out I'd been browsing the plus sizes without realizing it, so I tried the other side of the store. Two full racks of clearance jeans, about $15 per pair, and in all three Right Fit colors! I picked up three, the smallest size I could find in each color, and tried them on.
Yellow 4M: baggy, but waist and length were good.
Blue 6M: I'd wear these advertising a weight-loss product.
Red 4MP: tight around the waist, baggy elsewhere.
"Did you find what you needed?" asked the clerk.
"No," I told her, "but I know where to look now." I put the jeans on the rejection rack and went back to clearance.
Blue 3M: waist was good, but baggy enough to look like guy jeans.
Yellow 3M: I had to suck in my gut to get these on, but I got them buttoned. I could barely move.
The clerk saw me add more jeans to the rejection rack, and she asked if she could help. I told her specifically what the problems were with the jeans, and she told me to try size 3 red.
Red 3M: too tight at the waist, a little baggy but they're clearly girl jeans
I told the clerk what happened and she suggested trying yellow.
"What size?" I asked her. "Yellow 4 was too baggy and I could barely squeeze into Yellow 3."
She tried to convince me that the red ones would stretch out at the waist, but I didn't want to try my luck. I wasn't Straight, Moderately Curvy, or Curvy, so it was time to move on.
Old Navy?
It was the next clothing store in the plaza. I usually don't like to pay Old Navy prices, but I've had some luck with their clearance racks before, so I decided to give it a try.
What luck! Jeans for $15 on the clearance racks! I took four pair, two size 0 and two size 2, into the fitting room.
Size 0 sort of fit, but were ugly.
Size 2 sort of fit, but were ugly.
Size 0 was way too tight.
Size 2 was way too tight.
I tried on almost a dozen pair, almost the entire S/XS clearance rack, and finally found two pairs of pants that I liked. They weren't jeans, but they were good pants that I wouldn't mind getting grass stains on. I hung up the jeans and empty hangers on the rejection rack and carried the pants to the checkout counter, walking past $30 and $40 jeans. I'd found two pairs of pants for less than $30 total.
Hard work pays off.
Next stop, Borders. I found the Tekiela book, remembered the Amazon.com price, and bought the book because it was cheaper in the store. Ten minutes.
Sports Authority was right next door. I didn't want to spend any more time shopping, but they might have spankies. I walked in the door.
Shoes on clearance!
Well, they were all to big for me, but I went over to the regular shoe aisle. An employee was on me like a dog to dropped food. "Can I help you find anything?"
"I need something waterproof and good for backpacking."
I liked the $70 shoes and almost bought them, but then I saw a $55 pair marked down to $29. He found a smaller pair for me and they fit well. Also, if anything went wrong in the first year, including normal wear--soles coming loose, stitches coming out, color fading, etc.--they'd pay for it or replace the shoe.
He brought the shoes up to the counter while I hunted after spankies. I found some, they fit, and I brought them up to the counter.
I didn't realize I had to pay extra for the shoe-insurance. I asked how much it cost.
$4.99, she said.
"How much are the shoes?"
She beeped it with the red laser.
"It ain't even worth it," she said, partly to herself. She looked back at the guy who'd helped me find the shoes. "It ain't even worth it," she told him. "The shoes are only $10."
I paid for them and drove home in the clunky light-blue Olds.
Mission accomplished.
I went to the post office and spent about $10 mailing the package, feeling vaguely guilty for mailing it the cheapest way so I'd have more money for clothing. They said 5-10 business days, 5 would be right on time. I went to the bank and deposited a check, and then I was off to Miller Road.
First stop: Target. I browsed the clearance racks first, then the regular racks. I found a few pairs of jeans that might fit, checked the prices, put a few back, and walked into the fitting room.
How I envy men and their easy-to-use sizing system! Women's clothing is sized in an utterly arbitrary fashion, probably designed to assure us that we're not fat. In addition to this, we're all shaped in frustratingly unique ways and we all have different ideas on beauty and modesty. The fitting room is one of the most frustrating place in the world. You start with a simple question: do the pants fit? And the answer is ridiculously complicated. I tried to map it out in an easy-to-use flowchart, but I gave up. Try this:
Question 1: Do the pants fit?
++If you answered NO, try a different pair and go back to Question 1.
++If you answered YES, you are a liar.
++If you answered MAYBE, go on to Question 2.
Question 2: How do they fit around the waist?
++If you answered WAY TOO TIGHT, try a larger or smaller size and go back to Question 1.
++If you answered WAY TOO LOOSE, try a larger or smaller size and go back to Question 1.
++If you answered JUST RIGHT, you are a liar.
++If you answered SORTA TIGHT, remember that jeans stretch out after a while and go on to Question 3.
++If you answered SORTA LOOSE, remember that you can always wear a belt and go on to Question 3.
Question 3: How long are they?
++If you answered WAY TOO LONG, try a larger or smaller size and go back to Question 1.
++If you answered WAY TOO SHORT, try a larger or smaller size and go back to Question 1.
++If you answered JUST RIGHT, you are a liar.
++If you answered SORTA SHORT, try a larger or smaller size and go back to Question 1.
++If you answered SORTA LONG, remember that you can hem them and go on to Question 4.
Question 4: How do they fit around your butt and thighs?
++If you answered PRETTY SURE THESE ARE GUY JEANS, try a larger or smaller size and go back to Question 1.
++If you answered MY BUTT GOT SWALLOWED UP BY A DENIM BLUE WHALE, try a larger or smaller size and go back to Question 1.
++If you answered THIS WOULD DISTRACT EVEN THE MOST CHASTE MEN, try a larger or smaller size and go back to Question 1.
++If you answered I CAN COUNT THE CHANGE IN MY POCKET BY TWISTING AROUND AND LOOKING IN THE MIRROR, try a larger or smaller size and go back to Question 1.
++If you answered JUST RIGHT, you are a liar.
Question 5: Do you like them?
++If you answered THEY'LL DO, then go pay for them and leave the store before you get distracted elsewhere.
++If you answered YES, you are a liar.
++If you answered NO, then try on a shirt that you already know will look good. This will make you feel a little better about the jeans. Then go pay for the jeans, because you've already spent three hours at this store and there's no sense in spending another three hours elsewhere.
I tried on a handful of jeans at Target, but didn't find anything. Fashion Bug was a couple stores down, and I figured why not try my luck there? I parked and got out of the car.
Fashion Bug tried to get around this problem with their Right Fit revolution. "Try on a revolution,” the sign said. “What is RIGHT FIT? It’s the revolutionary result of the most extensive fit study in 60 years. Our unique fit and sizing system is based on 3 different body shapes: straight, moderately curvy and curvy. Resized with Right Fit technology, L.A. Blues jeans and Studio 1940 dress pants are now available in plus and misses Right Fit sizes.”
Right Fit was color-coded. There were signs on the walls and tags on the clothing. I perused them eagerly, hoping to cut down on fitting-room time. The signs read:
Do your current pants or jeans:
fit your waist, but are baggy? fit your hips/thighs, but have to be unbuttoned? Try RIGHT FIT YELLOW.
fit at the waist? but are slightly big in the thighs and hips? Try RIGHT FIT RED.
have to be cinched at the waist? or have a gap at the back? Try RIGHT FIT BLUE.
Already I don't fit! I needed Right Fit Green. Sometimes I feel like unbuttoning my jeans, but I have to tie them up and at least two people have made fun of me for the gap in the back. I picked up two pairs, a blue and a yellow, in size 2 and walked to the fitting room.
I swam. For good measure, I put both my legs into the right leg of the blue pair, and hopped around until I saw a mermaid in the mirror. While I pulled my own jeans back on, I glanced at the tag.
Size 5.
Turned out I'd been browsing the plus sizes without realizing it, so I tried the other side of the store. Two full racks of clearance jeans, about $15 per pair, and in all three Right Fit colors! I picked up three, the smallest size I could find in each color, and tried them on.
Yellow 4M: baggy, but waist and length were good.
Blue 6M: I'd wear these advertising a weight-loss product.
Red 4MP: tight around the waist, baggy elsewhere.
"Did you find what you needed?" asked the clerk.
"No," I told her, "but I know where to look now." I put the jeans on the rejection rack and went back to clearance.
Blue 3M: waist was good, but baggy enough to look like guy jeans.
Yellow 3M: I had to suck in my gut to get these on, but I got them buttoned. I could barely move.
The clerk saw me add more jeans to the rejection rack, and she asked if she could help. I told her specifically what the problems were with the jeans, and she told me to try size 3 red.
Red 3M: too tight at the waist, a little baggy but they're clearly girl jeans
I told the clerk what happened and she suggested trying yellow.
"What size?" I asked her. "Yellow 4 was too baggy and I could barely squeeze into Yellow 3."
She tried to convince me that the red ones would stretch out at the waist, but I didn't want to try my luck. I wasn't Straight, Moderately Curvy, or Curvy, so it was time to move on.
Old Navy?
It was the next clothing store in the plaza. I usually don't like to pay Old Navy prices, but I've had some luck with their clearance racks before, so I decided to give it a try.
What luck! Jeans for $15 on the clearance racks! I took four pair, two size 0 and two size 2, into the fitting room.
Size 0 sort of fit, but were ugly.
Size 2 sort of fit, but were ugly.
Size 0 was way too tight.
Size 2 was way too tight.
I tried on almost a dozen pair, almost the entire S/XS clearance rack, and finally found two pairs of pants that I liked. They weren't jeans, but they were good pants that I wouldn't mind getting grass stains on. I hung up the jeans and empty hangers on the rejection rack and carried the pants to the checkout counter, walking past $30 and $40 jeans. I'd found two pairs of pants for less than $30 total.
Hard work pays off.
Next stop, Borders. I found the Tekiela book, remembered the Amazon.com price, and bought the book because it was cheaper in the store. Ten minutes.
Sports Authority was right next door. I didn't want to spend any more time shopping, but they might have spankies. I walked in the door.
Shoes on clearance!
Well, they were all to big for me, but I went over to the regular shoe aisle. An employee was on me like a dog to dropped food. "Can I help you find anything?"
"I need something waterproof and good for backpacking."
I liked the $70 shoes and almost bought them, but then I saw a $55 pair marked down to $29. He found a smaller pair for me and they fit well. Also, if anything went wrong in the first year, including normal wear--soles coming loose, stitches coming out, color fading, etc.--they'd pay for it or replace the shoe.
He brought the shoes up to the counter while I hunted after spankies. I found some, they fit, and I brought them up to the counter.
I didn't realize I had to pay extra for the shoe-insurance. I asked how much it cost.
$4.99, she said.
"How much are the shoes?"
She beeped it with the red laser.
"It ain't even worth it," she said, partly to herself. She looked back at the guy who'd helped me find the shoes. "It ain't even worth it," she told him. "The shoes are only $10."
I paid for them and drove home in the clunky light-blue Olds.
Mission accomplished.
widowmaker makes no widows
There's a tree in our backyard that's been leaning dead for as long as I can remember. It's rotted so there's about an inch or two between the wood and the bark, which slides off like a sleeve. My dad wanted it taken down, so he called some of his friends over--this was several years ago--and Mr. Gallagher called it a widowmaker and wouldn't touch it. The tree has survived windstorms, tornadoes, heavy snow, lightning storms, animals, children, and all sorts of things that should have toppled it.
But not last week's windstorm.
Instead of mostly vertical and leaning against a healthy green tree, it's mostly horizontal and lying next to that healthy green tree. So now we have two trees to clean up and tons more firewood, although it's all either rotten or green.
I wish my camera could see what I see. This is what my camera saw:
But not last week's windstorm.
Instead of mostly vertical and leaning against a healthy green tree, it's mostly horizontal and lying next to that healthy green tree. So now we have two trees to clean up and tons more firewood, although it's all either rotten or green.
I wish my camera could see what I see. This is what my camera saw:
Friday, March 13, 2009
nine-year-old's twins aborted
I've read or skimmed a zillion different takes on this story. It sounds like a Brazilian man sexually abused his stepdaughter for three years, and when she was nine she became pregnant with his twins, which were aborted. Following this, there was great confusion about excommunication.
As I understand it, there's a latae sententiae for abortion or assisting with an abortion--this means if you do it, you're automatically excommunicated.
Time for a lesson on excommunication.
Few church leaders like the idea of being dropped in the sea with a millstone around their necks (cf Mt. 18:6), and they realize how important it is to teach correctly.
An excommunication essentially says "Do not listen to this person and think that's what the Catholic Church teaches." It does not send you to hell--no mere human, not even the pope, has the authority or power to do such a think. It is not permanent--with proper repentence, you can again become part of the Church.
Most of teaching is by example, and when there is a particularly bad example, it's important to let people know that this is not what the church teaches.
So if you have an abortion or help someone get an abortion, you are automatically no longer a part of the church.
Now, let's look at the situation.
It is morally wrong to rape your 9-year-old stepdaughter. In the first place, the situation shouldn't have even come about (that's gignomai for you deponent Greeks).
But it did. In Brazil, the articles say, abortion is only allowed in cases of rape or when the mother's life is in danger. The girl was definitely raped, and the abortion was legal. But was her life in danger?
I was unimpressed with Time magazine. The article reads:
The case has caused a furor. Abortion is illegal in Brazil except in cases of rape or when the mother's life is in danger, both of which apply in this case. (The girl's immature hips would have made labor dangerous; the Catholic opinion was that she could have had a cesarean section.)
The reporter assumes that the girl's life is in danger but does not tell the reader where the information came from. Did the reporter talk to a doctor? Then he writes what the "Catholic opinion" was, again without a source. Did he talk to a doctor and find out if a c-section might be possible?
I don't remember reading a doctor's voice on the c-section possibility in any of the articles I read, just what church leaders said. I'm sure these church leaders are wonderful men and intelligent theologians, but they are theologians, not physicians. I want to know what a physician has to say, and so far, no one has told me.
So what's the morally right thing to do?
Abortion is wrong, and this abortion was wrong, even if the girl's life was at stake. But I don't think she's culpable.
First: We don't know for sure that she would have died. It's not okay to kill two people because you're almost entirely sure it will save the life of another person.
Second: Love is willing to give its life for another (John 15:13). It would have taken a tremendous amount of courage and heroism to do this, though--can we expect this from an abused 9-year-old?
Third: I don't think she's culpable. I don't think it's right to "blame her" because she can't have had a mature understanding of what was going on.
Still waiting on that physician.
As I understand it, there's a latae sententiae for abortion or assisting with an abortion--this means if you do it, you're automatically excommunicated.
Time for a lesson on excommunication.
Few church leaders like the idea of being dropped in the sea with a millstone around their necks (cf Mt. 18:6), and they realize how important it is to teach correctly.
An excommunication essentially says "Do not listen to this person and think that's what the Catholic Church teaches." It does not send you to hell--no mere human, not even the pope, has the authority or power to do such a think. It is not permanent--with proper repentence, you can again become part of the Church.
Most of teaching is by example, and when there is a particularly bad example, it's important to let people know that this is not what the church teaches.
So if you have an abortion or help someone get an abortion, you are automatically no longer a part of the church.
Now, let's look at the situation.
It is morally wrong to rape your 9-year-old stepdaughter. In the first place, the situation shouldn't have even come about (that's gignomai for you deponent Greeks).
But it did. In Brazil, the articles say, abortion is only allowed in cases of rape or when the mother's life is in danger. The girl was definitely raped, and the abortion was legal. But was her life in danger?
I was unimpressed with Time magazine. The article reads:
The case has caused a furor. Abortion is illegal in Brazil except in cases of rape or when the mother's life is in danger, both of which apply in this case. (The girl's immature hips would have made labor dangerous; the Catholic opinion was that she could have had a cesarean section.)
The reporter assumes that the girl's life is in danger but does not tell the reader where the information came from. Did the reporter talk to a doctor? Then he writes what the "Catholic opinion" was, again without a source. Did he talk to a doctor and find out if a c-section might be possible?
I don't remember reading a doctor's voice on the c-section possibility in any of the articles I read, just what church leaders said. I'm sure these church leaders are wonderful men and intelligent theologians, but they are theologians, not physicians. I want to know what a physician has to say, and so far, no one has told me.
So what's the morally right thing to do?
Abortion is wrong, and this abortion was wrong, even if the girl's life was at stake. But I don't think she's culpable.
First: We don't know for sure that she would have died. It's not okay to kill two people because you're almost entirely sure it will save the life of another person.
Second: Love is willing to give its life for another (John 15:13). It would have taken a tremendous amount of courage and heroism to do this, though--can we expect this from an abused 9-year-old?
Third: I don't think she's culpable. I don't think it's right to "blame her" because she can't have had a mature understanding of what was going on.
Still waiting on that physician.
Sunday, March 8, 2009
hypothesis about women
"Have you ever had a woman lecture you about privacy?" I asked.
"Yes," he said, and I wasn't surprised but I was disappointed because I wanted to give it to him.
Here's my current hypothesis:
Women have layers of privacy. You can toe the line at the first layer, and we might let you in. Then you can toe the line at the second layer. But you definitely may not barge in past where you're allowed. You may not toe the line at the fourth layer unless you've been allowed into the third layer. When you reach the point where we won't let you in, you stay out.
We feel horribly betrayed and violated when lines are crossed without our permission.
I think this is how we work.
So what does that mean? Umm...
Well first off, this explains why rape is such a horrible crime. It's barging all the way to the center without being allowed in at all.
But this doesn't just apply to sex or sexual things.
When I was pranked, I felt that same betrayed/violated feeling, but it wasn't very strong and I knew I deserved it anyway. But my roommate got really upset, even though it was my side of the closet that was emptied, not hers.
But he got into our room without permission. I had let him into that layer; she hadn't.
I think that's how it works...
"Yes," he said, and I wasn't surprised but I was disappointed because I wanted to give it to him.
Here's my current hypothesis:
Women have layers of privacy. You can toe the line at the first layer, and we might let you in. Then you can toe the line at the second layer. But you definitely may not barge in past where you're allowed. You may not toe the line at the fourth layer unless you've been allowed into the third layer. When you reach the point where we won't let you in, you stay out.
We feel horribly betrayed and violated when lines are crossed without our permission.
I think this is how we work.
So what does that mean? Umm...
Well first off, this explains why rape is such a horrible crime. It's barging all the way to the center without being allowed in at all.
But this doesn't just apply to sex or sexual things.
When I was pranked, I felt that same betrayed/violated feeling, but it wasn't very strong and I knew I deserved it anyway. But my roommate got really upset, even though it was my side of the closet that was emptied, not hers.
But he got into our room without permission. I had let him into that layer; she hadn't.
I think that's how it works...
Friday, March 6, 2009
it doesn't go there!
Right before lunch I went to the bathroom and before I unbuttoned my jeans, my pen flipped out of my pocket and landed in the toilet. I wasn't sure what to do but I had to act before it sank, so I grabbed some toilet paper, reached in, launched it out and let it drop on the floor. About then I realized the superfluity of the toilet paper.
I went down to lunch and my ID card wasn't in my pocket. I went back to my room to look for it but couldn't find it--but picked up the check I had to cash--and came back up just as the 11:50 lunch rush was starting. I got a note from the desk and waited in line.
Finally, we approached the door to Saga. I felt something in the back of my pants suppressed a sheepish smile. I knew where my ID card was. I had somehow flipped it out of my back pocket--my pockets are small and it often falls out when I use the bathroom--and flipped it into my pants while in the bathroom.
I cleared my dishes from the table but didn't feel anything in my pants. Had it fallen to my knees? Perhaps. I left the cafeteria and returned to the bathroom.
I locked the door and checked everywhere, but with no luck. The card must have fallen out my ankle. It must be lying on the floor somewhere in Saga.
I asked Steve when I went to dinner, but he hadn't seen it.
The check is still in my pocket.
I went down to lunch and my ID card wasn't in my pocket. I went back to my room to look for it but couldn't find it--but picked up the check I had to cash--and came back up just as the 11:50 lunch rush was starting. I got a note from the desk and waited in line.
Finally, we approached the door to Saga. I felt something in the back of my pants suppressed a sheepish smile. I knew where my ID card was. I had somehow flipped it out of my back pocket--my pockets are small and it often falls out when I use the bathroom--and flipped it into my pants while in the bathroom.
I cleared my dishes from the table but didn't feel anything in my pants. Had it fallen to my knees? Perhaps. I left the cafeteria and returned to the bathroom.
I locked the door and checked everywhere, but with no luck. The card must have fallen out my ankle. It must be lying on the floor somewhere in Saga.
I asked Steve when I went to dinner, but he hadn't seen it.
The check is still in my pocket.
Thursday, March 5, 2009
how to love
The true soldier fights not because he hates what is in front of him, but because he loves what is behind him.
G. K. Chesterton
The most important thing is to love God.
The next most important thing is to love people.
Love people because we are all made in the image and likeness of God, because we all have the same core human dignity, because we're all in this together.
Love those behind you, but love, too, those in front of you.
Though I command languages both human and angelic--if I speak without love, I am no more than a gong booming or a cymbal clashing.
And though I have the power of prophecy, to penetrate all mysteries and knowledge, and though I have all the faith necessary to move mountains--if I am without love, I am nothing.
Though I should give away to the poor all that I possess, and even give up my body to be burned--if I am without love, it will do me no good whatever.
Love, for God so loved. And how ought we love?
Love is always patient and kind.
Love is never jealous.
Love is not boastful or conceited.
It is never rude and never seeks its own advantage.
It does not take offense or store up grievances.
Love does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but finds its joy in the truth.
Love always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always endures whatever comes.
Love never comes to an end.
If love never comes to an end, then love, in this fallen world, must forgive. Love knows that the person is more important than the pride invested in the disagreement.
As it is, these remain: faith, hope, and love, the three of them.
And the greatest of them is love.
G. K. Chesterton
The most important thing is to love God.
The next most important thing is to love people.
Love people because we are all made in the image and likeness of God, because we all have the same core human dignity, because we're all in this together.
Love those behind you, but love, too, those in front of you.
Though I command languages both human and angelic--if I speak without love, I am no more than a gong booming or a cymbal clashing.
And though I have the power of prophecy, to penetrate all mysteries and knowledge, and though I have all the faith necessary to move mountains--if I am without love, I am nothing.
Though I should give away to the poor all that I possess, and even give up my body to be burned--if I am without love, it will do me no good whatever.
Love, for God so loved. And how ought we love?
Love is always patient and kind.
Love is never jealous.
Love is not boastful or conceited.
It is never rude and never seeks its own advantage.
It does not take offense or store up grievances.
Love does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but finds its joy in the truth.
Love always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always endures whatever comes.
Love never comes to an end.
If love never comes to an end, then love, in this fallen world, must forgive. Love knows that the person is more important than the pride invested in the disagreement.
As it is, these remain: faith, hope, and love, the three of them.
And the greatest of them is love.
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