September 11

Six years ago yesterday, I met Debbie Erickson on the way to our first Hebrew class of the year at Regent College. We were both biking down University Drive at about 7:30 am PST. “Have you heard?” Debbie asked me. By that time, both towers have come down. Because I had not turned on a TV or radio that morning, this is the first time I’ve heard about anything. We continue on to class.

That Tuesday was the first “real” day of class that semester. Tuesdays are the day for chapel and the massive communal meal simply called “Soup,” when about 300 members of the Regent community sing, pray, and worship together, then enjoy military-size pots of soup. That Tuesday was also the first official day of my role as editor of the school newspaper.

Four years ago yesterday, Elizabeth gave birth to our first daughter, Agatha, exactly on her due date. In addition to remembrances of “the” 9/11, the news stations on TV were showing this ridiculous video all day long:

What a world.

Postmodern Toddlers

One of the assertions of certain postmodernists is that concepts don’t exist until language creates them.  For example, if you didn’t have a word for “love,” then not only would you not be able to recognize, define, or discern love, but love itself would not really exist for you.

Ginger in sinkHeady concept, but it’s something I think about a lot with my almost-2-year-old daughter.  She is at the stage where she is learning new words almost daily, and it’s amazing how she begins to communicate her awareness of the world.  One day she learns the word “apple” (OK, it’s more like “bop-bul), and the next day there are apples everywhere – in books, on wallpaper, on TV.  She sees apples that we completely overlook, because (in my pop child development reasoning) the apple is something that she has a word and concept for, so she picks out the apple instantly.

Now, I believe that apples existed before my daughter discovered the word for them – she ate them all the time without worrying about what to call them – but her experience teaches me about the way that I learn and perceive the world.  As I gain new concepts, I understand the world in new ways.  For example, for years I’ve heard people refer to “Cape Cod” houses.  Just this week, I’m embarrassed to say, I made the connection between the term “Cape Cod” and an actual Cape Cod-style house.  Now I have a new way of thinking about houses.

I have noticed, too, that the literature and film that I consume affects how I view the world.  Elizabeth and I have been watching The Sopranos, and I have noticed that I have to work to control my language more carefully, else I revert to my middle school ways of talking (my 13-year-old mouth = Tony Soprano’s).   When I am constant in my devotions, and reading the Bible daily, carefully and reflectively, the Bible’s concepts of the world – its language for reality – infuse my daily life.

I was blessed to have been given A Guide to Prayer for All God’s People during my introduction as a new InterVarsity staff member. The book provides readings for each week, including weekly readings in the Psalms.  This week, my Psalm has been Psalm 1.  Because of my background in literature and poetry, it often strikes me how powerful the psalmists regard the Word of God to be.  Psalm 1 begins by saying what a righteous man does not do (i.e. allow himself to conform to sinners), then switches to his positive traits:

But his delight is in the law of the Lord,
and on his law he meditates day and night.
He is like a tree planted by streams of water,
which yields its fruit in season
and whose leaf does not wither.
Whatever he does prospers.

There is nothing special about the blessed man, except that he loves the law – the words – of God.  The language of God centers him, blesses him, and changes his whole life.
Perhaps these postmodernists are on to something.

That's What Friends Are For

So, last night, our good friends Bryan and Kelley Brandeberry invited us to Pizza Hut, but we couldn’t go because we already had some steaks defrosting and were low on cash in our eating out envelope. We, in turn, invited them to the Erlanger library’s Family Fun Night (clowns + water balloons + popsicles = fun!). We took a long time walking to the library, never saw them, and just assumed we missed them or they decided not to come.

We returned home to find the following message on our answering machine:

Hi guys. We could not make it to the library because of a long and very funny story that happened to us at Pizza Hut. We will tell you all about it later. But as a result, we received a free ham and sausage pizza. Which is now in your fridge. Enjoy!

I opened the refrigerator door. Lo and behold, a free ham and sausage pizza had magically appeared on the middle shelf.

That’s what friends are for: free pizza. God bless America.
http://picasaweb.google.com/s/c/bin/slideshow.swf

Camping is Not Optional

What a great name for a website and organization.

 I have to say, I like their purpose, too. 

We also believe that human beings were designed to be interdependent with the natural world as well, which is why we’ve chosen an outdoor setting for these events.  While the average modern life doesn’t readily incorporate a daily relationship with the air, trees, soil, land forms and creatures that surround us, spending a period of time in more direct relationship can serve to remind us of the ways in which we might make conscious choices every day to be good stewards of the earth.  In addition, the quiet of a farm or forest or beach provides an important retreat from the noise, an opportunity to breathe deeply, listen closely and love extravagantly.

Elizabeth, the kids, and I are hoping to get in some good camping pretty soon.  If our schedule’s don’t lighten up, though, we might have to make do with our (hardly at all) rustic backyard.   We do have some poison ivy back there, so at least that part will be authentic.

True Love

There is an amazing story from the NY Times this week about a couple adopting a little girl from China. Here’s just a sample, from the moment after she’s been handed her new daughter for the first time:

Despite the high heat and humidity, her caretakers had dressed her in two layers, and when I peeled back her sweaty clothes I found the worst diaper rash I’d ever seen, and a two-inch scar at the base of her spine cutting through the red bumps and peeling skin.

(HT: Steven Levitt at Freakonomics.)