Big Backyards

I discovered something the other day.

I learned that all back yards, no matter how big or tiny, have the potential to be infinite.

I returned from a retreat with my youth group last Sunday tired out and in a contemplative mood. The sun was still up and the sky was, for the most part, clear. Andy was out doing something and I was alone. All was still. So I grabbed a towel and went into the backyard, laid it down upon the soft green grass and stretched out to stare at the sky. The clouds that evening were cirrus clouds, the kind that are very wispy and form at very high altitudes and are, incidentally, my favorite sort. So as I lay on my towel (which in an odd sort of way reflected the sky my gaze penetrated, being a faded azure with a whitish bleach stain in the middle), I began to lose all sense of perspective. All I could see were the tips of tree branches at the very edge of my vision, and the lazy and silent parade of the evening weather, lit by the setting sun. For an hour, perhaps longer, I lay; observing the clouds change from white to pink, the sky darkening in hue, the airplanes glinting the remaining vestiges of day, being high above the shadows in which I now rested. In them I remained while I prayed, and listened.

I have not engaged in such dynamic non-activity for a very long time. Perhaps since I was a child. Needless to say, the opportunity to have a backyard for three months is one I relish greatly. I almost feel like I'm on a three month retreat. But I digress.

About the time the first stars were making their appearance, the chill of the evening was also making itself apparent. So, satisfied, I sat up slowly on my blanket. Apparently not slowly enough, as all the blood rushed from my head and I got slightly dizzy. In this brief moment, perspective returned in a non-violent, but still suprising manner, as my formerly unbounded vision once again became subject to the familiar nearness of the objects surrounding me. I blinked once, twice, having a slight difficulty comprehending; has the world always been so small? I smiled to God and to myself, and as I think of it now, I realize further meaning in my experience: sometimes we need to be taken from our own narrow perspective, and rest on the firm Rock who dwells beneath, before, behind, and within us. And that any backyard, no matter how small, has the potential for infinity, if only one is willing to lay and rest.

Bazooka Bubblegum and a Tired Jaw

Alright, I'm back.

After almost a year, I suppose I'll try this again. I'll tell ya why I stopped.

After posting a number of suberbly written and creatively illustrated blogs (lol), people began to shower me with praise. "You're such a good writer! Keep posting, I want to hear your thoughts!" Even my parents started a blog, on which there remains one and one only post. Under the onslaught of all this praise, I began to feel as though I had to perform. I began to THINK about my blogs, to record ideas in rough form for "future editing", so they could eventually be "presentable" for the blog page. And when I began to think about my blogs, they became work. And to someone who already struggles with laziness (perhaps the fact I am typing this on my work computer right now is a testament to that) a mode of entertainment which feels burdensome loses its appeal. Its like chewing a pack of gum which quickly looses its flavor, (bazooka brand specifically comes to mind, because it sucks) and then makes your jaw tired. Such is only good for spitting out.

However, I like reading my friends' blogs and I had some nice thoughts to share so here I am again. No guarantees I'll stay, but whatever.

Autumn

For some reason I have been really looking forward to Autumn this year. I don't really understand it, I have never been super excited before. Perhaps I am looking forward to the lower electric bill because we won't be running the AC all the time. This is indeed a perk, but it isn't the essence of my joy for autumn. I have a beautiful image in my mind of a tree covered lane in a development, with deep carpets of warm colored leaves on the lawns with patches of the summer's last remnants of green grass still poking through, the trees still clinging to their cargoes. I see children running around jumping into the large piles their dads raked together, laughing and throwing handfulls of the colorful soon-to-be rotted material onto each other. I see baskets full of gourds on coffee tables and indian corn hung on the door, cornucopias and pumpkins keeping their October vigil before they become the sagging, shrivelled faces of November. I see mountains as of flame, their rocky tips perhaps covered with the slightest white caps, a testament to the deep sleep which is soon to come upon the land under its alabaster blanket of snow. At least, this is what I expect in Vermont. Here in PA we still have brown Christmases. How sad. I see the sun filtering through the thining canopies of shedding trees, as each breeze takes more of the load from their sleepy, heavy laden branches, as though to say, "Rest, dear beloved. You who give life now, take your rest and I shall awaken you when the time has come. Do not fear for your charges. Your ever-green brethren shall keep watch over your land while you slumber in silence." I see young men and women in sweaters, but needing nothing else for the moment by way of warm covering, walking and laughing together under azure skies, ignescent trees, pale sun. I see picnic-ers with their baskets and red-and-white checked blankets on hill sides enjoying the days of indian summer. I smell the scent of apples drifting from the orchards, with their promises of hot, spicy cider ladled from a pot.

Indeed, I'm not sure whats going on with me this year. But I am really loving autumn...my desire is to share this lovely season with someone special this year. A friend, a family member, maybe just Jesus, from Whom all good things come.

My Parents Discontinued Blog

Back when I started my blog, my parents were inspired and started a blog of their own. They posted one entry. They've not posted since. However, both the entry and the name of the blog are so awesome that I figured they deserved to be posted on here, so that the slightly higher than 1 viewers I have could see it. Their blog was called, Vermont Fools: Aging, Itching, B*ing, and Life.

My parents are so awesome haha.



Why the Heck do we Have Mosquitos?

Well, this is my first attempt at a blog and I asked myself why the Heck do we have Mosquitoes? Those miserable, biting, blood-sucking vermin serve absolutely no purpose other than driving every living creature to near insanity. Vermont woods are beautiful, but heaven forbid that we get any form of moisture. I watched my poor dog trying to cuff one of the pests off from his nose and then realized that I had two gnawing on the back of my neck and another trying to make a landing in my nose hairs. I am sure that somehow these things serve some form of purpose or they would not be on the earth. However, maybe they have been released from hell to run strafing missions on the planet. My mom always said that " You have to eat a peck of dirt before you die" but she never said anything about sucking down a bushel of these pointy nosed vampires. I definitely will try to improve my blogs in the future so please bear with me.

Home is where the heart is...

I wonder where my heart is. I guess I would say that I always feel at home wherever my closest relationships are. So I could be in England, but if I'm with a dear friend, I'd feel at home I guess. Not to say I don't have any attachment or love for places in themselves. I love Vermont and I love Lancaster. Both beautiful, farmy type places. Yes, I just said "farmy." Perhaps agrarian would be a better word. But ultimately, no place, no matter how pretty, is worth being in if you don't have close knit community.

I thought I was building that here. I guess I still am, but right now I feel rather lonely. I guess this would be natural when one is coming from four years of living with one's friends. Dorm life is pretty wonderful, but it can't go on forever. I find that friendships become more difficult when one isn't constantly surrounded by opportunity. You have to make an active effort. You have to go to the people, rather then waiting for them to come to you. You have to work at it a bit more, and invest a bit more maybe. Investment. Hmm...now there is a term I am learning the meaning of, a bit...I never really thought of it before. I just sort of moseyed along and enjoyed the people around me, but I wasn't really aware of putting a stake in someone else (does that sound rather vampiric?) Lets see...dictionary.com gives several definitions for this word. The one that seems most pertinent is this: Invest: to use, give, or devote (time, talent, etc.), as for a purpose or to achieve something: He invested a lot of time in helping the homeless. It also refers to money, but the common definition seems to involve putting something in with the hopes of getting something back. Hmm...it makes me wonder then, how this concept of investment lines up with the Gospel. Are we then meant to invest in other people? Do I only give with the hopes of getting back? I thought we were called to give without thought to return. But in relationships, especially the closer ones, there is mutual gift. Both parties give. Then, it would make sense wouldn't it for both parties to expect to receive? If one gives a part of themselves to someone else, they would reasonably expect some kind of reciprocation. I think sometimes though, because of sin, we don't get that. Some people are incapable of giving it. I mean, look at Christ, He certainly gave and gives more to us than we can ever return. Who has given him anything that he may be repaid? But I'm not sure on this. I'd appreciate comments if anyone has some wisdom to offer.

But yeah...friendships, relationships. These make a home, especially family. And in the Body of Christ, we are all family are we not? Family is the closest relationship. Your wife, if you're married, becomes family. But there is family in the general sense, and then there is real personal intimacy. That takes a long time to develop. And it takes longer when you're not in a dorm. So I guess I have to be patient, and trust God to guide me where He wills. I want a home in Lancaster, I'd love to have a family here. But if ultimately I never get close to anyone, then will it truly be my home? Am I destined to be a wanderer?

Lets take it even further. No person, even in family, can be ultimate fulfillment. Augustine learned well where the restless heart must go in order to find rest. You have made us for yourself, O Lord, and our hearts are restless until they rest in You. And God doesn't live in Vermont (though he may live in Lancaster, and he certainly does not live in Philadelphia haha). Actually God probably dwells more in the poor and afflicted places of the world than any other. Jesus didn't live in a palace. But that aside, we know that the divine nature is outside of time and space. He is not bound by any of our categories. So then, I must place my heart in His hands, and there my heart will find its fulfillment. In the eternal Fatherland, in heaven with the Divine Master. With Jesus. So if home is where the heart is, then perhaps my home ought to be in heaven. Of course, I'm not stupid. We are creatures of both heaven and earth...and so we would desire to have an earthly home too. And in the eschaton, we will. God will dwell in the world with men, not men flitting around in heaven. But this side of eternity...where shall my home be?
Perhaps when we are lonely it is opportunity to draw nigh to Him who alone can satisfy. But sometimes even that doesn't seem to alleviate that feeling. Maybe all my skeptic friends would say thats because he's not there and I'm a fool for believing it. Well thats crap, and here's why its crap. If the world is any indication, those nations and those people who have rejected God in their lives seem to be the most impoverished in their hearts. The most lonely. And they don't know where to turn for consolation. By grace, I have some idea. I can use loneliness as a reminder that no person can fill me. Here's a poem by St. Theresa of Avila. It might shed some light on the lonely heart...

Let nothing disturb thee,
Let nothing affright thee;
All things are passing;
God never changeth;
Patient endurance
Attaineth to all things;
Who God possesseth
In nothing is wanting;
God alone sufficeth.

I pray our Lord in His mercy would fix my weak and failing eyes upon Himself. And, having that sight, I pray he'd give me friends to share it with. And a home here, while I await my entry into my heavenly home.

Shopping Carts and Rebel Hearts

Hello all...and I imagine "all" in this instance consists of maybe three people haha. Its been a very long time since I posted, for that I am sorry to everyone who really wants to see posts. Its been a combination of things that's kept me off blogger...haven't really felt like it, been tired when I've gotten home from work, too busy, etc. I have many ideas I want to post about, but right now will just be this one.

Everyone has had to deal with the shopping carts at the grocery store. Sometimes they work fine, just gliding along down between the racks, nice and straight. Then sometimes you get stuck with the cart that has a bum wheel. You're pushing it along and all of a sudden the cart just veers to the left right into the display of cake mix thats on sale this week. You sigh and heave it back to where it was supposed to be and next thing you know it veers to the right directly into the sauerkraut. Now I don't know of any stores that have cake mix and sauerkraut in the same isle, but bear with me. You look down as you're pushing it, and there it is, the culprit. One of your wheels is all tangled up with bits of string, tape, and God knows what else, and is seized up tight. The other is just spinning around uselessly in a happy little circle, dumdy dumdy dum, not touching the floor at all and certainly not helping you. And you realize, that this particular shopping trip is really going to exercise your upper arms. And your patience.

Many times I feel like my heart behaves like one of those blasted shopping carts. It goes where it wills. It never stays on a straight path, and it seems never to go where I want it to go. It is a rebel. I'm always having to heave to put it on the path it belongs, but soon enough, I'm veering to the right or to the left again. It fluctuates between feelings of great piety and stark emptiness. It becomes happy and sad for hundreds of different reasons, and becomes discouraged rather easily. Worse, it wants what it wants when it wants it, and anything less than this is perceived as a grave injustice. And here am I, trying to wrest my heart back. It is very tiresome sometimes.

Now imagine this. You're in a grocery store, and you are the manager. And EVERY shopping cart in your store has a bum wheel. Every cart is veering. And not only into walls, but into other carts. I can imagine this would be quite frustrating. As manager, you have the power and resources to requisition new equipment whenever it is needed. It would be simple just to order replacement carts, newer, better ones.

Now imagine a manager who instead of getting new carts, decides to keep the ones he has. And actually cares about each individual cart enough to repair it and fix it. And even though they veer, he keeps on using them. And somehow, manages to get everything in the store done perfectly. That would have to be a near omnipotent manager. In fact, I think you might have to be omnipotent to pull of that particular task!

And so here I am, my heart a recalcitrant shopping cart. And yet, that is no obstacle at all for the great manager of this store.

From House to Home

I would consider myself somewhat easily amused. And perhaps easily satisfied. Well, satisfaction has come to me in great quantities, and for only 26 dollars at that! I have in my possession a real wooden kitchen table and a set of four matching chairs. It is wonderful. It makes my dining room actually become a room where one dines rather than a dance floor, which I was seriously considering converting it into before I found these five lovely beauties. It wouldn't have been too hard, the ceiling fan has a motor, just remove the blades and attach a disco ball, and presto. Dance floor. But NOW I don't need to do that anymore! Seriously, I'm giddy. When I was in Oxford, I didn't have a proper table in our flat. We had to eat on the couch. It really sucked, and made me feel like I was living in a dorm, not a home. Well now all that's changed. I have a real kitchen table...a place to sit and write, sit and eat, sit and type on my computer. For some reason, a kitchen table really makes the home for me. I'm not sure why exactly, perhaps its because the family meal was a formative occurrence for me when I was growing up. But now I can proudly celebrate the fact that I do indeed have my own home! Yay!!!