It occurs to me that if I was to complain about our bad weather, I'd be met with catcalls and jeers from the other side of the Rockies. All I can say is, "Don't you wish you lived in Alberta?!"
Just kidding. Even the worst day in BC is better than the best day here. Not that I'm ungrateful, I just love my BC. Only two more weeks until we come home. If we click our heels together three times, maybe it'll come faster.
In all seriousness, I really do feel bad for you west-coasters. And, I have to say, I'm kind of chapped that this winter is happening when we're not there. I mean, seriously, why is it that the best winter ever happens when we're gone? And by "best" I don't mean that there's something inherently great about it--I just mean that it's good winter weather, what with the snow and all. It really does say, "Winter." That's all I mean.
If it makes you feel any better, what you just got came here today, and resulted in a fair amount of snow for us, too. No, not as much as you got, but a fair amount. And it's cold. This evening, it was -37 with the wind chill. Brr. Suffice it to say we didn't leave the house today.
Oh yeah, and my car now won't start. Lovely. Not sure what to do about that one, except maybe put a hair dryer under the hood. We can get a block heater installed, but not until Thursday. Of course, Thursday is the day all this is supposed to be gone. But hey, maybe I'll be able to start my car again and get it to the shop.
Because of the inclement weather, I really don't have much to report about the day. The most exciting thing I did was go and borrow some eggs from our friends down the street so my wife could make a very yummy dinner. It's really dumb when it takes you 10 minutes to bundle up for a 5 minute walk down the street and back. I don't think I'd want to be out there any longer, though, considering at those temperatures, exposed skin can freeze in a matter of minutes. Seriously, could you ever really get used to this?
On the school front, I polished off quite a bit of work today. Finished up my sermon, which I will have to preach tomorrow after all. One of the guys in my class called me today and asked to trade days, so I accepted. I've got it all done, so what the heck. Better than waiting (see previous blog posting regarding this).
I also banged out the first draft of my biggest project of the semester, which ended up being 18 pages. Now for the editing. The worst part is that this assignment doesn't have any page number guidelines--you just need to include all the information. If that takes you 8 pages, fine. If it takes you 20, fine. Seems a little arbitrary to me, and I don't think mine will end up being less than 16 after edits. Which is fine. If there's more in there, there's a better chance that there's more the prof is going to like, which is good for my grade.
What else? Theo's still teething like a mofo. We think he finally cut his one tooth today (it's only been a week-and-a-half), which is a big relief because, frankly, we're tired of the bad mood. Not that I can blame him. Poor guy. Let's get it over with, already, hey? It was a trying day, that's for certain.
Now I'm here, doing my blog before it gets too late. I owe my wife a back rub, so I'm going to chop it off right here. She's such a trooper with the little guy. We were talking over dinner about how when you think about it, it's really amazing that she's even able to carry him as much as she does, considering he's 1/4 of her body weight. Wow. She deserves a back rub for that.
So, I guess goodnight is appropriate. I might have more exciting things to talk about here tomorrow because I'll actually be leaving the house. Woo-hoo! See you then.
11.27.2006
11.25.2006
The Best-Laid Plans...
I have to admit, it's the morning, again. I had every intention of doing a blog posting last night. Seriously. But then, the Grey's Anatomy started. I think that, because we haven't seen it for over a week, we overcompensated. We watched one, and then two, because the first one was so sad. Then, the second one ended in a cliff-hanger, so we had to watch the next one, which happened to be the season finale, which was two hours. So after three hours of GA (each episode is only 45 minutes without ads), we're done season two and completely bloated.
It's not just the fact that it got in the way of blogging--it's the fact that we neglected a decent bedtime once again. I really did have every intention of hitting the sack before 11:30; Theo's been waking up screaming in the middle of the night for the last three nights straight, so our sleep is very interrupted. In fact, he's crying in his crib right now, after a valiant 20-minute struggle to put him to sleep.
Okay, I wasn't going to go here today, but I will anyway, just for fun. On the spectrum of parenting philosophies, we're somewhere in the middle. We like to be able to hold our baby and rock him to sleep, because we want to treasure these moments while they're here. At the same time, we want him to know that we call the shots, albeit in a loving way. Thus our strategy so far has been that we decide when it's nap time, but we'll spend time in there with him singing to him and helping him fall asleep. Usually it works like a charm.
Sometimes, however, we hit a snag. There are days, like there have been this week, where he just decides that he'll go to sleep no problem, but when you try to put him down or leave the room, he wakes right up and starts to cry. So in the name of not being over-indulgent, we put him down, tell him that it's bedtime and leave. This, of course, leads to wailing and gnashing of teeth, much like what is happening right now.
It absolutely breaks my heart to hear him screaming (and that's what he's doing, trust me) in his crib. I know he just wants to have mommy and daddy with him and he doesn't understand why we can't just be there all the time. And yet, I know that this is what's best for him in the long run. But that doesn't make it any easier on me. We end up sitting on the couch saying, "Come on, just go to sleep already." And yet we know that if we go in there and try again, like we really, really want to do, he's just going to learn that if he cries, mommy and daddy are going to come to him. And we can't keep that up. Not that we're not going to come to him if he cries, but you know what I mean.
Man, this whole "parenting" thing kinda stinks sometimes. I wish I could just explain to him that what I'm doing is really for his benefit, and that it's hard on me, too. But I can't. I just have to trust in the fact that he's not going to hate me for it when he gets older, and that by doing this, we're forming in him good habits for the future. It's not the least pleasant thing we'll ever do as parents, but it certainly is the least pleasant so far.
And with that, he's asleep. Lovely. I just checked the monitor to make sure he was still breathing, because the abrupt stop in crying makes me nervous. I'm such a wreck.
By the way, I understand that parenting strategies are never really agreed-upon, so everything I said above (knowing that what I'm doing is best, etc), isn't intended as a slam against anyone who doesn't agree with me, or who doesn't parent the way I do. I know that you can have success no matter what method you use; we've decided that this method is what we're going to use because of the success Steph had with it working with children with autism.
Method doesn't make you a good parent, that's what I want to say. It's not about your technique, it's about the envrionment you create in your home for your child. And that isn't something that is debated or even debatable. Children thrive in loving family envrionments, and whether you let them cry themselves to sleep all the time, sometimes, or not at all, if you love them and truly put their needs first, you're bound to succeed.
That's about it for contentious issues and wild opinions in this posting. I've got more to say about the whole "creating an environment" thing, especially as it relates to spiritual growth, but I'll save that for some other time, or maybe never. Who knows? I don't. That's what makes this blog so much fun for me--I just sit down and type with no particular plan.
Thanks for stopping by this week; see you again on Monday.
It's not just the fact that it got in the way of blogging--it's the fact that we neglected a decent bedtime once again. I really did have every intention of hitting the sack before 11:30; Theo's been waking up screaming in the middle of the night for the last three nights straight, so our sleep is very interrupted. In fact, he's crying in his crib right now, after a valiant 20-minute struggle to put him to sleep.
Okay, I wasn't going to go here today, but I will anyway, just for fun. On the spectrum of parenting philosophies, we're somewhere in the middle. We like to be able to hold our baby and rock him to sleep, because we want to treasure these moments while they're here. At the same time, we want him to know that we call the shots, albeit in a loving way. Thus our strategy so far has been that we decide when it's nap time, but we'll spend time in there with him singing to him and helping him fall asleep. Usually it works like a charm.
Sometimes, however, we hit a snag. There are days, like there have been this week, where he just decides that he'll go to sleep no problem, but when you try to put him down or leave the room, he wakes right up and starts to cry. So in the name of not being over-indulgent, we put him down, tell him that it's bedtime and leave. This, of course, leads to wailing and gnashing of teeth, much like what is happening right now.
It absolutely breaks my heart to hear him screaming (and that's what he's doing, trust me) in his crib. I know he just wants to have mommy and daddy with him and he doesn't understand why we can't just be there all the time. And yet, I know that this is what's best for him in the long run. But that doesn't make it any easier on me. We end up sitting on the couch saying, "Come on, just go to sleep already." And yet we know that if we go in there and try again, like we really, really want to do, he's just going to learn that if he cries, mommy and daddy are going to come to him. And we can't keep that up. Not that we're not going to come to him if he cries, but you know what I mean.
Man, this whole "parenting" thing kinda stinks sometimes. I wish I could just explain to him that what I'm doing is really for his benefit, and that it's hard on me, too. But I can't. I just have to trust in the fact that he's not going to hate me for it when he gets older, and that by doing this, we're forming in him good habits for the future. It's not the least pleasant thing we'll ever do as parents, but it certainly is the least pleasant so far.
And with that, he's asleep. Lovely. I just checked the monitor to make sure he was still breathing, because the abrupt stop in crying makes me nervous. I'm such a wreck.
By the way, I understand that parenting strategies are never really agreed-upon, so everything I said above (knowing that what I'm doing is best, etc), isn't intended as a slam against anyone who doesn't agree with me, or who doesn't parent the way I do. I know that you can have success no matter what method you use; we've decided that this method is what we're going to use because of the success Steph had with it working with children with autism.
Method doesn't make you a good parent, that's what I want to say. It's not about your technique, it's about the envrionment you create in your home for your child. And that isn't something that is debated or even debatable. Children thrive in loving family envrionments, and whether you let them cry themselves to sleep all the time, sometimes, or not at all, if you love them and truly put their needs first, you're bound to succeed.
That's about it for contentious issues and wild opinions in this posting. I've got more to say about the whole "creating an environment" thing, especially as it relates to spiritual growth, but I'll save that for some other time, or maybe never. Who knows? I don't. That's what makes this blog so much fun for me--I just sit down and type with no particular plan.
Thanks for stopping by this week; see you again on Monday.
11.23.2006
Where Exactly is the Wazoo?
It's days like this that I asked why on earth I ever moved to the prairies in the first place. Cold, cold, and cold, are the three words that describe this weather best. In fact, today I booked an appointment to get snow tires put on the car. That and a block heater installed. Not sure what I'll do with either of those things when we move back to BC. At least I might be able to sell the tires. Anyone looking for a set for next year?
I made this decision today after a rather embarassing happening on my way to school this morning. I was running late (as usual in the morning, unfortunately), and as a result was taking the walk a little too fast for the conditions. Suddenly, down I went on an icy patch. Crash. Fortunately I broke my fall with my coffee mug--had I actually broken the mug I would've been really upset. Coffee is the only thing that keeps me going. Anyway, the mug hitting the pavement sent coffee spilling all over the place--had I been thinking, I would've made a coffee snow cone or something--and I hit my knee on the sidewalk. At that point I figured that going to school was bad for me, so I skipped my morning meeting.
No permanent damage done, except for maybe a bruised ego. Fortunately, anyone who would've seen me would be students, and they were all where they were supposed to be, so unless I find a picture of myself on facebook.com, I think I'm alright. I'm going to check YouTube before I go to bed, too.
I now know for sure that I'm going to graduate in April, pending my passing all my courses. Nice. Had a huge run-around today between my advisor and the registrar and the chair of the Bible and Theology department. Fun times. Again, I love being the guinea pig. But it's all sorted out now, and I'm feeling pretty good. If I can get through the end of the semester without going insane, that'll be a big step toward it. I'm thinking I'll probably be working on a course when we go home in December, just to lessen my workload for next semester. Then again, sitting in front of my very big TV and playing Playstation all day also sounds appealing, so we'll see.
As another administrative note, I've changed over to the new "Blogger Beta", which means not a thing to you in blog-reading land, but it has some pretty interesting enhancements. Except the sign-in procedure. Anyway, one of the things I'm looking at is the ability to make blogs private, accessible only to certain email addresses. I'm tossing that idea up for Theo's blog, mostly, but I won't do anything on it until January at the earliest. I'm going to be playing around with the appearance of the blog over the next little bit, though, so you never know what you're going to find here.
Speaking of Theo's blog, sorry for the lack of updates. With visitors in the house, school work coming out the wazoo, and a wife and child who have some unrealistic expectation that I'll actually spend time with them, I haven't had a chance to get to it this week. That's also why I missed a day on this blog, in case anyone was getting to the "write an angry email" stage.
Hopefully next week I'll be a little less stressed out. Okay, let me rephrase that: by the end of next week, I'll be less stressed out. I got to finish my presentation today, but I've got a crazy week tomorrow, including an assignment due Wednesday, a sermon to preach on Thursday, and a major project due Friday. Plus, I've also got another major project due the week after that. Mind you, the week after that is the last week of the semester (which is also really scary), so I guess I'll be good after that. Then it's back home. To get my wisdom teeth pulled. Hooray.
One more thing before I call it a night. When I posted last time about the whole chapel seating issue, I didn't mean it as a slag against my school or any of the people in it. I intended to give a witty reflection on the state of society in general (and the church specifically) and I think it came across as a slam against PBI and its students, which really makes me a big hypocrite. So my apologies to my school and its students, and anyone else who might have been offended by that rant. Just goes to show that posting in the morning isn't the greatest idea.
That's it; I'm tired. See you all tomorrow night for the always fun Friday night posting.
I made this decision today after a rather embarassing happening on my way to school this morning. I was running late (as usual in the morning, unfortunately), and as a result was taking the walk a little too fast for the conditions. Suddenly, down I went on an icy patch. Crash. Fortunately I broke my fall with my coffee mug--had I actually broken the mug I would've been really upset. Coffee is the only thing that keeps me going. Anyway, the mug hitting the pavement sent coffee spilling all over the place--had I been thinking, I would've made a coffee snow cone or something--and I hit my knee on the sidewalk. At that point I figured that going to school was bad for me, so I skipped my morning meeting.
No permanent damage done, except for maybe a bruised ego. Fortunately, anyone who would've seen me would be students, and they were all where they were supposed to be, so unless I find a picture of myself on facebook.com, I think I'm alright. I'm going to check YouTube before I go to bed, too.
I now know for sure that I'm going to graduate in April, pending my passing all my courses. Nice. Had a huge run-around today between my advisor and the registrar and the chair of the Bible and Theology department. Fun times. Again, I love being the guinea pig. But it's all sorted out now, and I'm feeling pretty good. If I can get through the end of the semester without going insane, that'll be a big step toward it. I'm thinking I'll probably be working on a course when we go home in December, just to lessen my workload for next semester. Then again, sitting in front of my very big TV and playing Playstation all day also sounds appealing, so we'll see.
As another administrative note, I've changed over to the new "Blogger Beta", which means not a thing to you in blog-reading land, but it has some pretty interesting enhancements. Except the sign-in procedure. Anyway, one of the things I'm looking at is the ability to make blogs private, accessible only to certain email addresses. I'm tossing that idea up for Theo's blog, mostly, but I won't do anything on it until January at the earliest. I'm going to be playing around with the appearance of the blog over the next little bit, though, so you never know what you're going to find here.
Speaking of Theo's blog, sorry for the lack of updates. With visitors in the house, school work coming out the wazoo, and a wife and child who have some unrealistic expectation that I'll actually spend time with them, I haven't had a chance to get to it this week. That's also why I missed a day on this blog, in case anyone was getting to the "write an angry email" stage.
Hopefully next week I'll be a little less stressed out. Okay, let me rephrase that: by the end of next week, I'll be less stressed out. I got to finish my presentation today, but I've got a crazy week tomorrow, including an assignment due Wednesday, a sermon to preach on Thursday, and a major project due Friday. Plus, I've also got another major project due the week after that. Mind you, the week after that is the last week of the semester (which is also really scary), so I guess I'll be good after that. Then it's back home. To get my wisdom teeth pulled. Hooray.
One more thing before I call it a night. When I posted last time about the whole chapel seating issue, I didn't mean it as a slag against my school or any of the people in it. I intended to give a witty reflection on the state of society in general (and the church specifically) and I think it came across as a slam against PBI and its students, which really makes me a big hypocrite. So my apologies to my school and its students, and anyone else who might have been offended by that rant. Just goes to show that posting in the morning isn't the greatest idea.
That's it; I'm tired. See you all tomorrow night for the always fun Friday night posting.
11.22.2006
I Hope This One's Smoother...
I was too tired last night again to get this posting up, so I'm risking another morning posting, cognizant of the fact that last time I did this, my off-hand remark sparked a firestorm of debate. I promise to make this one go down a little bit smoother. Maybe I'll coat it in chocolate, a la Miracle Max.
Fortunately, I have nothing much of substance to say. Day three of The Great Parent Visit, which is going quite well. I love the fact that there's someone here who is more than willing to give Theo his bottles and such. Especially since it's crunch-time in the semester; I just did a list to make sure I knew what was going on, and it turns out I have three major things due in the next two weeks, plus four more if I want to get my distance ed classes done on time, too. No pressure, though.
In chapel yesterday, we had the student union (SU) leading, and I made an interesting observation that might or might not be true of everyone. When we walked into chapel, there were two SU reps at the doors, telling us that we had assigned seating that day, and it was in alpahabetical order, starting from the back and moving to the front. Please find your name card and sit there, we were told. Okay, I thought, no problem. I'll just combine the two important pieces of information (my last name and knowledge of the alphabet) and go from there. Sure enough, after not much searching, I found my seat.
On each seat was a candy cane (it's the last SU chapel before Christmas) and a name card, folded in half. When I opened up the name card, someone on SU had taken the time to write (not type) me out a personalized note. It was nothing monumental, but it was personalized. And they'd done that for every one of the 400 students.
That's not the issue; the issue is the lack of respect displayed by some students for the efforts of the SU. The main complaint I heard, having found my seat, was "How am I supposed to know where my name is?" Well, it's really not that difficult if you know (a) your name, and (b) the alphabet. We're all college students, here, do you think we can figure that out?
The second complaint I heard was along the lines of, "It's too early in the morning to think." Okay, that's just silly. I understand it's 9:25, but that ain't early. You want early, go work in the real world outside this college bubble. Or have a kid. Then tell me when it's too early to think.
Finally, the most frustrating thing I heard from the students was, "But I don't want to sit here." Aw. Cry me a river, build me a boat, and get over it. It's one day. Chapel is 30 minutes. If you have to sit in the front for 30 minutes one day this semester, I'm sure you'll survive. And if you can't sit by your friends for 30 minutes one day this semester, I'm sure your friendship will survive.
My main issue with this comes back to some of the things I've been talking about in this space over the past little while: the rampant amount of individualism in the church, manifested in our little microcosm of chapel. It's all about me, me, me. Don't tell me that I can't sit where I want; don't tell me that I have to do some work to figure it out; don't tell me that you've expended a whole lot of effort on me--I don't want to hear it. I ran into this as a pastor, and continue to run into it in various church ministry roles. No matter what you do as a leader sometimes, you're always going to get burned by someone who doesn't like it. It doesn't matter that you've given up a lot of your time--it isn't what I want, therefore, it's not good enough.
So I guess I'll just throw this down as a challenge to you today at work, school, play, whatever, and then going into the week at church. Where can you submit to leadership? Eek, ugly word alert. We don't like submit, do we? It implies being a doormat or something weak. The world doesn't value submission. But I think that's a misunderstanding of what submission actually is. Submission isn't being walked all over.
Not sure where that sermon came from, but it's there nonetheless. Hope you can take some challenge from it. As for me, it's time for breakfast, and then off to chapel. As long as they don't make us sit in different seats.
See you tomorrow (or tonight, actually).
Fortunately, I have nothing much of substance to say. Day three of The Great Parent Visit, which is going quite well. I love the fact that there's someone here who is more than willing to give Theo his bottles and such. Especially since it's crunch-time in the semester; I just did a list to make sure I knew what was going on, and it turns out I have three major things due in the next two weeks, plus four more if I want to get my distance ed classes done on time, too. No pressure, though.
In chapel yesterday, we had the student union (SU) leading, and I made an interesting observation that might or might not be true of everyone. When we walked into chapel, there were two SU reps at the doors, telling us that we had assigned seating that day, and it was in alpahabetical order, starting from the back and moving to the front. Please find your name card and sit there, we were told. Okay, I thought, no problem. I'll just combine the two important pieces of information (my last name and knowledge of the alphabet) and go from there. Sure enough, after not much searching, I found my seat.
On each seat was a candy cane (it's the last SU chapel before Christmas) and a name card, folded in half. When I opened up the name card, someone on SU had taken the time to write (not type) me out a personalized note. It was nothing monumental, but it was personalized. And they'd done that for every one of the 400 students.
That's not the issue; the issue is the lack of respect displayed by some students for the efforts of the SU. The main complaint I heard, having found my seat, was "How am I supposed to know where my name is?" Well, it's really not that difficult if you know (a) your name, and (b) the alphabet. We're all college students, here, do you think we can figure that out?
The second complaint I heard was along the lines of, "It's too early in the morning to think." Okay, that's just silly. I understand it's 9:25, but that ain't early. You want early, go work in the real world outside this college bubble. Or have a kid. Then tell me when it's too early to think.
Finally, the most frustrating thing I heard from the students was, "But I don't want to sit here." Aw. Cry me a river, build me a boat, and get over it. It's one day. Chapel is 30 minutes. If you have to sit in the front for 30 minutes one day this semester, I'm sure you'll survive. And if you can't sit by your friends for 30 minutes one day this semester, I'm sure your friendship will survive.
My main issue with this comes back to some of the things I've been talking about in this space over the past little while: the rampant amount of individualism in the church, manifested in our little microcosm of chapel. It's all about me, me, me. Don't tell me that I can't sit where I want; don't tell me that I have to do some work to figure it out; don't tell me that you've expended a whole lot of effort on me--I don't want to hear it. I ran into this as a pastor, and continue to run into it in various church ministry roles. No matter what you do as a leader sometimes, you're always going to get burned by someone who doesn't like it. It doesn't matter that you've given up a lot of your time--it isn't what I want, therefore, it's not good enough.
So I guess I'll just throw this down as a challenge to you today at work, school, play, whatever, and then going into the week at church. Where can you submit to leadership? Eek, ugly word alert. We don't like submit, do we? It implies being a doormat or something weak. The world doesn't value submission. But I think that's a misunderstanding of what submission actually is. Submission isn't being walked all over.
Not sure where that sermon came from, but it's there nonetheless. Hope you can take some challenge from it. As for me, it's time for breakfast, and then off to chapel. As long as they don't make us sit in different seats.
See you tomorrow (or tonight, actually).
11.20.2006
My Audience Just Decreased...
Before I start, I just want to say that, in case you've been living in a cave, or just don't give a rip about the CFL, I'm a happy blogger tonight because my team is the champion. Although the game wasn't a classic (like last year), the result was good. Way to go, Lions!
I knew it. It was only a matter of time before winter reared its ugly head again and gave us a full shot of what she had in the tank. No, not yet--soon. This weekend, it's forecast to get all the way up to -20. Can't wait. Stellar. Wonderful. Super.
Today was pleasant enough, though. Sunny and, if not warm, then at least not frigid. Got the chance to go to the gym with the wife this morning, because my parents are here for a visit. Which, of course, drops my audience for this blog by roughly half, but hey, the other two of you can still enjoy it. Actually, it just means that instead of posting on the blog, they can just talk to me face-to-face, which, frankly, I prefer.
Of course, we've already pursued the shoebox/charitable giving conversation--that was last night. I think that I'm going to write my Master's thesis on this topic, and just use my accumulated blog postings and comments. Should be something there. Maybe I can talk to some more people in person, too; then I'd really have a paper.
Back to today. We got to play the role of knowledgeable Three Hills tour guides. Of course, we're not really all that knowledgeable, but, comparatively speaking, we've been here quite a while. Compared to anyone who visits us from the coast, at least. It was the combo deal: give the tour, run some errands.
I realized about halfway through the tour that there's a remarkable amount to say for a town this size. You'd expect that any tour of Three Hills would be made up mostly of silence, occasionally punctuated by things like, "And there's the water tower," or, "Hey look, our grocery store." But there's more to this town than that, I tell you. There's a pool, an ice rink, a college campus, new buildings going up, mobile homes; man, it's a cornucopia of fun. And anytime you can throw the word "cornucopia" (am I even spelling it right? Too lazy to open up Word), you know you've really reached a new level of blogging. I feel...complete.
Speaking of complete, did I mention my team won the Grey Cup? Ah, the sense of accomplishment. And I had absolutely no role in it whatsoever. But that's the great thing about sports, isn't it? Even though the average Joe has nothing to contribute to his team (besides boosting the revenue by attending games), we all feel like we've been a part of it. That's nice.
The weekend was good, if busy. Drove Steph's mom to the airport on Saturday evening, and managed to get another visit in with the cousins. By the way, I misspoke last week: the people who visited us were Steph's cousin, Steph's aunt, and (this is where the relationship gets a little hazy) Steph's cousin's son. Would that make him her second cousin, or is there some sort of "once-removed" thing in there? Not that it matters. Just thought I'd clarify.
After the visit, we dropped Nana off and headed back home. Theo slept the whole car ride, and then promptly woke up when we rolled into our driveway. After a long and futile effort to get him back to sleep, we had to let him cry it out, which, although the right thing to do in my opinion, is always hard.
On Sunday, we skipped church (we're such rebels) and had some family time. Which really just consisted of feeding the baby, playing with the baby, and cleaning the house. But it was good. At about 3:00, my parents arrived, and Grey Cup fesitivites ensued, followed by deep conversations at the theological level. I'm not sure which one I enjoyed more, to be honest.
That brings us back to today. And today, Theo managed to wake up at about 10:45 and think, "Hey, I'm awake, it must be morning." After yet another long and futile effort at getting him back to sleep, he is again crying it out in his crib. It's a little bit silly, because it's not like any of us can sleep while he's in there telling us how much we suck, but again, it's the right thing to do. He was perfectly content to let me hold him and sing to him, but I just can't sustain that. And furthermore, it's nighttime, which is sleep time. It's an objective truth, and one that he'd do well to realize.
Can you tell I've been writing an essay tonight? Fun times.
Okay, that's it. I feel like I've rambled a little bit; don't exactly have that feeling of being concise. But whatever. Some days you're on, some days you're off.
Anyway, I'm glad you stopped by. See you again here tomorrow--I'm off to listen to my kid wail in his crib. Should be fun.
I knew it. It was only a matter of time before winter reared its ugly head again and gave us a full shot of what she had in the tank. No, not yet--soon. This weekend, it's forecast to get all the way up to -20. Can't wait. Stellar. Wonderful. Super.
Today was pleasant enough, though. Sunny and, if not warm, then at least not frigid. Got the chance to go to the gym with the wife this morning, because my parents are here for a visit. Which, of course, drops my audience for this blog by roughly half, but hey, the other two of you can still enjoy it. Actually, it just means that instead of posting on the blog, they can just talk to me face-to-face, which, frankly, I prefer.
Of course, we've already pursued the shoebox/charitable giving conversation--that was last night. I think that I'm going to write my Master's thesis on this topic, and just use my accumulated blog postings and comments. Should be something there. Maybe I can talk to some more people in person, too; then I'd really have a paper.
Back to today. We got to play the role of knowledgeable Three Hills tour guides. Of course, we're not really all that knowledgeable, but, comparatively speaking, we've been here quite a while. Compared to anyone who visits us from the coast, at least. It was the combo deal: give the tour, run some errands.
I realized about halfway through the tour that there's a remarkable amount to say for a town this size. You'd expect that any tour of Three Hills would be made up mostly of silence, occasionally punctuated by things like, "And there's the water tower," or, "Hey look, our grocery store." But there's more to this town than that, I tell you. There's a pool, an ice rink, a college campus, new buildings going up, mobile homes; man, it's a cornucopia of fun. And anytime you can throw the word "cornucopia" (am I even spelling it right? Too lazy to open up Word), you know you've really reached a new level of blogging. I feel...complete.
Speaking of complete, did I mention my team won the Grey Cup? Ah, the sense of accomplishment. And I had absolutely no role in it whatsoever. But that's the great thing about sports, isn't it? Even though the average Joe has nothing to contribute to his team (besides boosting the revenue by attending games), we all feel like we've been a part of it. That's nice.
The weekend was good, if busy. Drove Steph's mom to the airport on Saturday evening, and managed to get another visit in with the cousins. By the way, I misspoke last week: the people who visited us were Steph's cousin, Steph's aunt, and (this is where the relationship gets a little hazy) Steph's cousin's son. Would that make him her second cousin, or is there some sort of "once-removed" thing in there? Not that it matters. Just thought I'd clarify.
After the visit, we dropped Nana off and headed back home. Theo slept the whole car ride, and then promptly woke up when we rolled into our driveway. After a long and futile effort to get him back to sleep, we had to let him cry it out, which, although the right thing to do in my opinion, is always hard.
On Sunday, we skipped church (we're such rebels) and had some family time. Which really just consisted of feeding the baby, playing with the baby, and cleaning the house. But it was good. At about 3:00, my parents arrived, and Grey Cup fesitivites ensued, followed by deep conversations at the theological level. I'm not sure which one I enjoyed more, to be honest.
That brings us back to today. And today, Theo managed to wake up at about 10:45 and think, "Hey, I'm awake, it must be morning." After yet another long and futile effort at getting him back to sleep, he is again crying it out in his crib. It's a little bit silly, because it's not like any of us can sleep while he's in there telling us how much we suck, but again, it's the right thing to do. He was perfectly content to let me hold him and sing to him, but I just can't sustain that. And furthermore, it's nighttime, which is sleep time. It's an objective truth, and one that he'd do well to realize.
Can you tell I've been writing an essay tonight? Fun times.
Okay, that's it. I feel like I've rambled a little bit; don't exactly have that feeling of being concise. But whatever. Some days you're on, some days you're off.
Anyway, I'm glad you stopped by. See you again here tomorrow--I'm off to listen to my kid wail in his crib. Should be fun.
11.17.2006
A Light Friday Offering...
I know what you're thinking: "Is he going to talk about those fargin' shoeboxes again. Thankfully, no. I think we've beaten that horse sufficiently for the week. Actually, okay, I am going to mention them, but only as part of a broader narrative in which the shoeboxes are not the protagonists (nor are they the antagonists--they're just bit players).
Okay, I will say one more thing: thanks, Christine, for joining in the conversation as well. I know that you're intention was good with your comment (and hey, you're allowed to have an opinion, even a controversial one, about tax receipts), and I'm glad we could clear that all up with our little comment exchange. Like I've said before, I always welcome engagement and open dialogue, even if I disagree--iron sharpens iron, after all, and that always makes sparks. I don't feel insulted (if I had, I would have just deleted your comment--ah, the power), so don't worry about that either. And don't start being anonymous with your comments--it takes guts to sign your name to something, and even more guts to come back and clarify, so kudos to you.
And that's really the last word in that discussion.
Moving on. It's Friday, and since I don't want anything too controversial to be up here for the weekend, for the remainder of this posting, I'll just talk about light things. The weather, for example. Boy, you BC people sure have it bad. I'm actually really shocked at the weather over there for two reasons: (1) it's really something else, and I feel bad that you all have to suffer through it; (2) I really like a good storm, although I likely wouldn't be saying that right about now.
By way of contrast, the weather here is, of course, beautiful. In fact, my parents are flying in this Sunday, and it'll probably feel like a total reversal of how things should be--they're leaving the crappy weather to come to some really nice weather. It's almost Vancouver-like weather out here, except for the fact that as soon as the sun goes down, the temperature drops well into the negatives. Cold, I tell you; cold. But sunny.
Of course, there's some rather delicious irony to this whole thing. Well, I guess it's only delicious if you like bitter things. Let's not carry the metaphor too far, though. Anyway, what I was going to say was that I was an integral part of convincing my parents that they should fly out rather than driving their car because of the way winter was going about two weeks ago. So they went through the hassle of flying and renting a car, and now the weather is supposed to be beautiful for the next little while; all the snow is pretty much melted, too. It's not shorts and a T-shirt weather, but it's nice. Stupid meteorology.
Had a rather nice evening tonight, after a not-so-eventful day. The usual Friday fare: chapel in the morning (way too early, as far as I'm concerned), class right after, gym in the afternoon, haircut by my professional (and sexy) barber (my wife, if you didn't get the reference--I would have a lot more to worry about than my hair cut if I called my barber "sexy" on my blog and it wasn't my wife. Especially if it was a man). Best haircut I've ever had, actually.
*Brief interlude* I forgot to mention yesterday that Theo is back to his teething self again, although at least not as crazily as last time. Two more top teeth coming in now, and it's a painful experience yet again. We've got a new herbal (no wait, "homeopathic" makes it sound more medicine-like) thing for it that works like a charm. Better than Tylenol, I say (collective gasps from the drug industry). Seems to be doing the trick, but I have no desire to feel the pain that he's feeling right now. Due to this teething, we had a really rough night on Wednesday, and I feel like I'm still making up for it. That's why chapel seems to come too early every day.
Okay, back on track--the nice evening. Since Steph's mom is here, we were lucky enough to take advantage of some free babysitting (or, more appropriately, the only babysitting we can take advantage of in the first place) and go out for dinner. Initially we considered heading into Red Deer to go somewhere exotic like Earls, but we opted instead to stay in Three Hills so that we wouldn't have to have a big drive (Steph went to Airdrie yesterday and we're going to Calgary tomorrow to drop her mom off at the airport--another day of driving just didn't sit well). Went to the lovely Harvest House restaurant here in town--great place. I had this chicken Monterey that was so big I could barely eat it. And I have a big appetite. Plus, it was really reasonable pricing.
Those factors are probably why it's nigh impossible to get in to that place on a Friday night. We had a 25-minute wait, but since we didn't have the boy with us, it was actually fun to wait it out. We went and perused the Bargain Shop next door. Everything from zen rock gardens to snow shovels. Good times.
It's been so long since just Steph and I have been out together, but the secret of a great marriage (if I can be so bold as to call ours that)--and write this down, kids--is that you can always dive into a really meaninful conversation no matter how long it's been since you've talked about something other than baby food and diapers. Great times were had.
After our dinner, we headed over to the campus coffee shop to get some authentic Pakistani chai tea (made by someone in Three Hills. Hmm). It was a reward to the student body for making shoeboxes, you see. In fact, there were several different stages of rewards, all of which involving something fun for the student body (yes, I am in college, not high school, just to clarify). For example, the student union's academic commissioner shaved his eyebrows, an RA wore his clothes backwards, the coffee shop manager dyed her hair blonde, and the student union president got a perm (a male president, that is--it actually looks quite nice). And one of the rewards was free authentic Pakistani chai to the first 100 customers after 7:45 tonight.
I'm not a chai fan myself, but I still got one and gave it to Steph's mom (nothing wrong with buttering up the in-laws, right?). Then I went and got a Slurpee. Anyway, there must have been something "special" in that chai, because tonight both Steph and her mom were buzzing. In fact, I'm usually the last one to bed after blogging, but tonight it's close to 11:00 and they're out there chatting on the couch. Ah, caffeine.
And really, that's all I've got. I know, not very interesting. Like I said, it's Friday. To finish off, however, GO LIONS!!!! My parents get here just in time for Grey Cup on Sunday, and it'll be fun to have my dad out here to watch the game with. Steph's alright with football, but really, I can't whine about the officiating or play selection and have her know what the heck I'm talking about. She's so supportive that I'll get a knowing nod and agreement, but I know it's just charity. But we're not talking about charity. Not tonight.
Anyway, my dad and I can sit there and swear at the TV and the officials, and the women can make us sandwiches and get us beer. I'm so just kidding. Really, I am.
Happy weekend, everyone! I'll see you back here on Monday, either totally dejected because my Lions choked, or elated because we have a championship team in Vancouver. I can't wait to find out which one it'll be. See you then.
Okay, I will say one more thing: thanks, Christine, for joining in the conversation as well. I know that you're intention was good with your comment (and hey, you're allowed to have an opinion, even a controversial one, about tax receipts), and I'm glad we could clear that all up with our little comment exchange. Like I've said before, I always welcome engagement and open dialogue, even if I disagree--iron sharpens iron, after all, and that always makes sparks. I don't feel insulted (if I had, I would have just deleted your comment--ah, the power), so don't worry about that either. And don't start being anonymous with your comments--it takes guts to sign your name to something, and even more guts to come back and clarify, so kudos to you.
And that's really the last word in that discussion.
Moving on. It's Friday, and since I don't want anything too controversial to be up here for the weekend, for the remainder of this posting, I'll just talk about light things. The weather, for example. Boy, you BC people sure have it bad. I'm actually really shocked at the weather over there for two reasons: (1) it's really something else, and I feel bad that you all have to suffer through it; (2) I really like a good storm, although I likely wouldn't be saying that right about now.
By way of contrast, the weather here is, of course, beautiful. In fact, my parents are flying in this Sunday, and it'll probably feel like a total reversal of how things should be--they're leaving the crappy weather to come to some really nice weather. It's almost Vancouver-like weather out here, except for the fact that as soon as the sun goes down, the temperature drops well into the negatives. Cold, I tell you; cold. But sunny.
Of course, there's some rather delicious irony to this whole thing. Well, I guess it's only delicious if you like bitter things. Let's not carry the metaphor too far, though. Anyway, what I was going to say was that I was an integral part of convincing my parents that they should fly out rather than driving their car because of the way winter was going about two weeks ago. So they went through the hassle of flying and renting a car, and now the weather is supposed to be beautiful for the next little while; all the snow is pretty much melted, too. It's not shorts and a T-shirt weather, but it's nice. Stupid meteorology.
Had a rather nice evening tonight, after a not-so-eventful day. The usual Friday fare: chapel in the morning (way too early, as far as I'm concerned), class right after, gym in the afternoon, haircut by my professional (and sexy) barber (my wife, if you didn't get the reference--I would have a lot more to worry about than my hair cut if I called my barber "sexy" on my blog and it wasn't my wife. Especially if it was a man). Best haircut I've ever had, actually.
*Brief interlude* I forgot to mention yesterday that Theo is back to his teething self again, although at least not as crazily as last time. Two more top teeth coming in now, and it's a painful experience yet again. We've got a new herbal (no wait, "homeopathic" makes it sound more medicine-like) thing for it that works like a charm. Better than Tylenol, I say (collective gasps from the drug industry). Seems to be doing the trick, but I have no desire to feel the pain that he's feeling right now. Due to this teething, we had a really rough night on Wednesday, and I feel like I'm still making up for it. That's why chapel seems to come too early every day.
Okay, back on track--the nice evening. Since Steph's mom is here, we were lucky enough to take advantage of some free babysitting (or, more appropriately, the only babysitting we can take advantage of in the first place) and go out for dinner. Initially we considered heading into Red Deer to go somewhere exotic like Earls, but we opted instead to stay in Three Hills so that we wouldn't have to have a big drive (Steph went to Airdrie yesterday and we're going to Calgary tomorrow to drop her mom off at the airport--another day of driving just didn't sit well). Went to the lovely Harvest House restaurant here in town--great place. I had this chicken Monterey that was so big I could barely eat it. And I have a big appetite. Plus, it was really reasonable pricing.
Those factors are probably why it's nigh impossible to get in to that place on a Friday night. We had a 25-minute wait, but since we didn't have the boy with us, it was actually fun to wait it out. We went and perused the Bargain Shop next door. Everything from zen rock gardens to snow shovels. Good times.
It's been so long since just Steph and I have been out together, but the secret of a great marriage (if I can be so bold as to call ours that)--and write this down, kids--is that you can always dive into a really meaninful conversation no matter how long it's been since you've talked about something other than baby food and diapers. Great times were had.
After our dinner, we headed over to the campus coffee shop to get some authentic Pakistani chai tea (made by someone in Three Hills. Hmm). It was a reward to the student body for making shoeboxes, you see. In fact, there were several different stages of rewards, all of which involving something fun for the student body (yes, I am in college, not high school, just to clarify). For example, the student union's academic commissioner shaved his eyebrows, an RA wore his clothes backwards, the coffee shop manager dyed her hair blonde, and the student union president got a perm (a male president, that is--it actually looks quite nice). And one of the rewards was free authentic Pakistani chai to the first 100 customers after 7:45 tonight.
I'm not a chai fan myself, but I still got one and gave it to Steph's mom (nothing wrong with buttering up the in-laws, right?). Then I went and got a Slurpee. Anyway, there must have been something "special" in that chai, because tonight both Steph and her mom were buzzing. In fact, I'm usually the last one to bed after blogging, but tonight it's close to 11:00 and they're out there chatting on the couch. Ah, caffeine.
And really, that's all I've got. I know, not very interesting. Like I said, it's Friday. To finish off, however, GO LIONS!!!! My parents get here just in time for Grey Cup on Sunday, and it'll be fun to have my dad out here to watch the game with. Steph's alright with football, but really, I can't whine about the officiating or play selection and have her know what the heck I'm talking about. She's so supportive that I'll get a knowing nod and agreement, but I know it's just charity. But we're not talking about charity. Not tonight.
Anyway, my dad and I can sit there and swear at the TV and the officials, and the women can make us sandwiches and get us beer. I'm so just kidding. Really, I am.
Happy weekend, everyone! I'll see you back here on Monday, either totally dejected because my Lions choked, or elated because we have a championship team in Vancouver. I can't wait to find out which one it'll be. See you then.
11.16.2006
The Final Word?
I think that winter has made its retreat, like a wounded animal. Nice and sunny again today, although a somewhat schizophrenic day. For example, when I was walking home from class this afternoon, the sun was actually hot on my back, yet the icy wind was whipping me in the face. Weird.
Speaking of class, had a bit of a frustrating experience today. I love Thursdays because they're the days that, every second week, I don't have to be awake in the morning at any particular time (although having an infant around makes the idea of sleeping in non-existent), and I don't have to go to school until 2:00. That said, the morning went by pretty quickly, and off I went to school. When I got there, my whole class filed into the room (all nine of us) and waited for the teacher. Who never showed. Finally, someone went to his office and spoke to his secretary, who looked at him bewildered, and said, "Oh, he's in Montreal at a conference." Hmm. You know, that's the kind of information it would have been important to share with the class. Like, before we all got there and waited.
I, for one, have many things I can do with my time. Sitting in a classroom waiting for a prof who didn't have the courtesy to tell us he wasn't going to be there isn't high on my productivity list. And besides, I got changed out of my PJ's specifically for that. I could've stayed in them an hour longer. Sheesh.
Back to the discussion about charity and giving and shoeboxes and all those important things. Thanks again, Lydia and dad, for the interaction. I wonder what other people think? Let me know if you want.
For me, here's the last thing I'm going to say about this whole thing, at least for today. Part of what's happening in my spiritual life right now while on campus is the idea of the quest for deeper meaning. Confession time: I'm really sick and tired of church. But I'm not one of these people who will say, "Yeah, I believe in Jesus, but I just don't like church." That doesn't wash. Read your Bible: you can't have a relationship with Jesus without having a relationship with His Body, the Church. They're inseparable.
In fact, something I've learned this semester which has been really interesting is this concept of personal salvation and what a bunch of hogwash it is at times. Now, before you accuse me of heresy, please read the rest of this posting. We live in this world where the only thing that matters is accepting Jesus and waiting to die and go to heaven. Our worship times are about "me and Jesus in my sunbeam," and we don't allow anyone in to that sunbeam, or at best maybe one or two people. We think that Jesus came to offer salvation to individuals, and that's good enough for us.
The problem is, that view isn't correct. Yes, our salvation means that we will personally go to heaven when we die, but Jesus didn't come primarily to redeem individuals--He came to redeem His Church. Inasmuch as individuals make up the Church, our personal salvation is wrapped up in it, but there's so much more to it than that.
What have we done to our churches, though? We've made them nothing more than social clubs. I'm being challenged in my studies by Chuck Colson's book, "Being the Body"--a fantastic read that will change the way you think about what church is. The examples he gives in there give me hope that there's so much potential that Jesus wants to unleash in His Church, but it also makes me frustrated that Satan's got us believing this lie that our faith is all about us as individuals. So when I say I'm sick and tired of church, I don't mean that I think we shouldn't do it anymore. What I do mean is that I think we need to rediscover the meaning and significance behind our gathering, and work to appreciate the mystery inherent in it a little bit more. Otherwise, I should just stay in on Sunday and watch football and join the Rotary Club, which probably meets at a more convenient time.
The point of this long and rambling story (and yes, it does tie into shoeboxes, but you're going to have to stay with me through it) is that there has to be something more to the Christian life than just waiting for heaven to start. And I think that attitude is, a lot of times (and I realize that generizations are generally unfair, but I use them to prove a point or at least demonstrate one possible side of the argument) revealed in the way we give. My concern is that we're starting to go down this "the end justifies the means" line of thought with a lot of things in church, and it's scary. As long as someone gets helped, that's really what's important, right? I'm not convinced. When God said He desired obedience rather than sacrifice, He didn't mean stop sacrificing--He just meant that there is a root and a fruit, if you'll pardon the rhyme. The root is motivation; the fruit is the sacrifice (or shoebox).
All I'm saying in this whole debate is that we need deeper roots, because without them we can't sustain any kind of giving, be it shoeboxes, sacrifical bulls, or whatnot. We've lived off the fruit for a long time, and it's good. But it could be better. And the worst part is that we've lost the taste of the good fruit and fooled ourselves into thinking that there's no such thing as good fruit anymore.
Now I'm hungry. Anyway, do you see where I'm going with this? Yes, it's good to give a shoebox. Please don't misunderstand: I'm not ragging on OCC, shoeboxes, or anyone who gives one, no matter what the motivation is. Even if you're motivation is guilt, selfishness, or whatever, at least a good is being done. But there's so much more meaning that could be imparted to it, so much more fulfillment that could come out of it. The potential is there for more good to be done; that's what I'm saying.
When it comes right down to it, Lydia and I are both talking about the same thing, we're just coming to it differently. When she says, "Unfortunately, I don't think all Christians are ready and willing to give serious thought to their charity actions (or any other actions for that matter)," my response is, "Yes, I agree--and that's a real problem." If we continue to refuse to examine the motivation behind our actions, good will still be done. But how much more good could be done if we took the time to examine our motivations? How much more could the church accomplish of God's plan if we would just think through the meaning of Church on a deeper level? The potential is nothing less than what the Infinite God is willing to pour on us. And I think that's really exciting.
That's enough for today, I think (and I'm sure you'll agree). I'm really glad that I've tapped some passionate people with this whole topic, and I hope you'll continue to consider what Lydia, my dad, and I have to say, and maybe take the time to weigh in yourself. In my opinion, no harm can be done from open, honest, and respectful dialogue. Lydia, I appreciate you giving me your thoughts, and I hope you pick up that I don't mean to be rude or overbearing in my answers--I just really enjoy the dialogue. So thanks.
As for the rest of you, I appreciate you too. Thanks for stopping by today, and I'll see you tomorrow for the always-anticipated Friday posting. Bye for now.
Speaking of class, had a bit of a frustrating experience today. I love Thursdays because they're the days that, every second week, I don't have to be awake in the morning at any particular time (although having an infant around makes the idea of sleeping in non-existent), and I don't have to go to school until 2:00. That said, the morning went by pretty quickly, and off I went to school. When I got there, my whole class filed into the room (all nine of us) and waited for the teacher. Who never showed. Finally, someone went to his office and spoke to his secretary, who looked at him bewildered, and said, "Oh, he's in Montreal at a conference." Hmm. You know, that's the kind of information it would have been important to share with the class. Like, before we all got there and waited.
I, for one, have many things I can do with my time. Sitting in a classroom waiting for a prof who didn't have the courtesy to tell us he wasn't going to be there isn't high on my productivity list. And besides, I got changed out of my PJ's specifically for that. I could've stayed in them an hour longer. Sheesh.
Back to the discussion about charity and giving and shoeboxes and all those important things. Thanks again, Lydia and dad, for the interaction. I wonder what other people think? Let me know if you want.
For me, here's the last thing I'm going to say about this whole thing, at least for today. Part of what's happening in my spiritual life right now while on campus is the idea of the quest for deeper meaning. Confession time: I'm really sick and tired of church. But I'm not one of these people who will say, "Yeah, I believe in Jesus, but I just don't like church." That doesn't wash. Read your Bible: you can't have a relationship with Jesus without having a relationship with His Body, the Church. They're inseparable.
In fact, something I've learned this semester which has been really interesting is this concept of personal salvation and what a bunch of hogwash it is at times. Now, before you accuse me of heresy, please read the rest of this posting. We live in this world where the only thing that matters is accepting Jesus and waiting to die and go to heaven. Our worship times are about "me and Jesus in my sunbeam," and we don't allow anyone in to that sunbeam, or at best maybe one or two people. We think that Jesus came to offer salvation to individuals, and that's good enough for us.
The problem is, that view isn't correct. Yes, our salvation means that we will personally go to heaven when we die, but Jesus didn't come primarily to redeem individuals--He came to redeem His Church. Inasmuch as individuals make up the Church, our personal salvation is wrapped up in it, but there's so much more to it than that.
What have we done to our churches, though? We've made them nothing more than social clubs. I'm being challenged in my studies by Chuck Colson's book, "Being the Body"--a fantastic read that will change the way you think about what church is. The examples he gives in there give me hope that there's so much potential that Jesus wants to unleash in His Church, but it also makes me frustrated that Satan's got us believing this lie that our faith is all about us as individuals. So when I say I'm sick and tired of church, I don't mean that I think we shouldn't do it anymore. What I do mean is that I think we need to rediscover the meaning and significance behind our gathering, and work to appreciate the mystery inherent in it a little bit more. Otherwise, I should just stay in on Sunday and watch football and join the Rotary Club, which probably meets at a more convenient time.
The point of this long and rambling story (and yes, it does tie into shoeboxes, but you're going to have to stay with me through it) is that there has to be something more to the Christian life than just waiting for heaven to start. And I think that attitude is, a lot of times (and I realize that generizations are generally unfair, but I use them to prove a point or at least demonstrate one possible side of the argument) revealed in the way we give. My concern is that we're starting to go down this "the end justifies the means" line of thought with a lot of things in church, and it's scary. As long as someone gets helped, that's really what's important, right? I'm not convinced. When God said He desired obedience rather than sacrifice, He didn't mean stop sacrificing--He just meant that there is a root and a fruit, if you'll pardon the rhyme. The root is motivation; the fruit is the sacrifice (or shoebox).
All I'm saying in this whole debate is that we need deeper roots, because without them we can't sustain any kind of giving, be it shoeboxes, sacrifical bulls, or whatnot. We've lived off the fruit for a long time, and it's good. But it could be better. And the worst part is that we've lost the taste of the good fruit and fooled ourselves into thinking that there's no such thing as good fruit anymore.
Now I'm hungry. Anyway, do you see where I'm going with this? Yes, it's good to give a shoebox. Please don't misunderstand: I'm not ragging on OCC, shoeboxes, or anyone who gives one, no matter what the motivation is. Even if you're motivation is guilt, selfishness, or whatever, at least a good is being done. But there's so much more meaning that could be imparted to it, so much more fulfillment that could come out of it. The potential is there for more good to be done; that's what I'm saying.
When it comes right down to it, Lydia and I are both talking about the same thing, we're just coming to it differently. When she says, "Unfortunately, I don't think all Christians are ready and willing to give serious thought to their charity actions (or any other actions for that matter)," my response is, "Yes, I agree--and that's a real problem." If we continue to refuse to examine the motivation behind our actions, good will still be done. But how much more good could be done if we took the time to examine our motivations? How much more could the church accomplish of God's plan if we would just think through the meaning of Church on a deeper level? The potential is nothing less than what the Infinite God is willing to pour on us. And I think that's really exciting.
That's enough for today, I think (and I'm sure you'll agree). I'm really glad that I've tapped some passionate people with this whole topic, and I hope you'll continue to consider what Lydia, my dad, and I have to say, and maybe take the time to weigh in yourself. In my opinion, no harm can be done from open, honest, and respectful dialogue. Lydia, I appreciate you giving me your thoughts, and I hope you pick up that I don't mean to be rude or overbearing in my answers--I just really enjoy the dialogue. So thanks.
As for the rest of you, I appreciate you too. Thanks for stopping by today, and I'll see you tomorrow for the always-anticipated Friday posting. Bye for now.
11.15.2006
That's Why I Blog in the First Place...
I remember when I was a kid, the common phrase used--I think mostly by my grandma--when we left the front door open was, "What are you trying to do, heat up the outside?" Although perhaps scientifically incorrect, it was sufficient motivation to shut the door. That and the wooden spoon with which to whip our butts if we failed to heed her instruction.
That said, it was like everyone left their doors open today--nice and warm; almost tropical, I'd say. In fact, I was walking home from school this afternoon, and I almost took my jacket off. Almost. It's still windy. But the warmth today melted most of the snow on the ground, which leaves a pretty pathetic little base behind. It's sort of an in-between stage, as though nature had started a big snowfall and then changed its mind.
What remains is the thick layer of ice that was hiding underneath the snow. You don't expect it, which makes it worse. A couple days ago, when we were walking the streets with Tanya and Mark, I think all of us slipped on one patch of sidewalk, which was amusing in and of itself. It's insidious, that ice. Hopefully the warm weather will keep up and we'll have a fresh canvas for winter to paint her amazing artistry on again in a week.
Eventful day today. Had a visit from Steph's cousin and great-aunt (I think, at least) and her cousin's young son, who I guess would be her second cousin, although I've never been sure of the nature of that foggy relationship. Anyway, the point is that the little boy, Gabe, is almost exactly one month older than Theo, which meant that copious playtime was had by both. It was actually really funny because the first thing Gabe did when he met Theo was poke him in the eye.
Just to take a little side-track here, wouldn't it be fun if we could still do that? "Right, let's see what you're made of, chap," followed by a quick poke. If the person didn't recoil in horror, we'd know a lasting friendship could be had, albeit one based on various proddings to various body parts at random times. But like Inspector Clouseau said, it keeps you sharp.
Anyway, much cuteness was observed in Three Hills this afternoon. Theo, for his part, kept his peace about being poked in the eye. It was actually really cute because you could tell he just wanted to hit Gabe right in the face, but he didn't. He even raised his hand to hit, but stopped. What a good boy. Clearly, he has my pacifist streak. Good thing he's an MB.
Stay tuned to Theo's blog next week for some video chronicling the meeting of the two babies. It'll be compelling TV. Especially since you can't see a new episode of Lost until February.
The main thing that I wanted to get to was to give a brief follow-up on what I said this morning about the shoeboxes. I think that in my haste to blog, and with my lack of proofreading, what should have come across as philosophical simply ended up sounding pretty uncharitable and selfish. I want to explain where I was coming from, and this time I've done a bit more research.
First off, my response was sparked by Lydia's comment (see last blog posting for Lydia's blog links), which I'll paste below because it gives a good starting point. And by the way, thanks, Lydia, for the interaction. That gives me great joy as a blogger because (a) I know someone's taking the time to read and respond, and (b) I like the exchange of information. I feel that in college especially, I'm expected to fall into a certain design for a "student" that is a note-taker , lecture-absorber, and test-writer. Unfortunately, I don't learn well that way, and I crave the interaction. Which is probably why my response will be so long. Anyway, here's her comment, along with my (rather long) response...
***
Thanks again for stopping by, and I'll see you tomorrow.
That said, it was like everyone left their doors open today--nice and warm; almost tropical, I'd say. In fact, I was walking home from school this afternoon, and I almost took my jacket off. Almost. It's still windy. But the warmth today melted most of the snow on the ground, which leaves a pretty pathetic little base behind. It's sort of an in-between stage, as though nature had started a big snowfall and then changed its mind.
What remains is the thick layer of ice that was hiding underneath the snow. You don't expect it, which makes it worse. A couple days ago, when we were walking the streets with Tanya and Mark, I think all of us slipped on one patch of sidewalk, which was amusing in and of itself. It's insidious, that ice. Hopefully the warm weather will keep up and we'll have a fresh canvas for winter to paint her amazing artistry on again in a week.
Eventful day today. Had a visit from Steph's cousin and great-aunt (I think, at least) and her cousin's young son, who I guess would be her second cousin, although I've never been sure of the nature of that foggy relationship. Anyway, the point is that the little boy, Gabe, is almost exactly one month older than Theo, which meant that copious playtime was had by both. It was actually really funny because the first thing Gabe did when he met Theo was poke him in the eye.
Just to take a little side-track here, wouldn't it be fun if we could still do that? "Right, let's see what you're made of, chap," followed by a quick poke. If the person didn't recoil in horror, we'd know a lasting friendship could be had, albeit one based on various proddings to various body parts at random times. But like Inspector Clouseau said, it keeps you sharp.
Anyway, much cuteness was observed in Three Hills this afternoon. Theo, for his part, kept his peace about being poked in the eye. It was actually really cute because you could tell he just wanted to hit Gabe right in the face, but he didn't. He even raised his hand to hit, but stopped. What a good boy. Clearly, he has my pacifist streak. Good thing he's an MB.
Stay tuned to Theo's blog next week for some video chronicling the meeting of the two babies. It'll be compelling TV. Especially since you can't see a new episode of Lost until February.
The main thing that I wanted to get to was to give a brief follow-up on what I said this morning about the shoeboxes. I think that in my haste to blog, and with my lack of proofreading, what should have come across as philosophical simply ended up sounding pretty uncharitable and selfish. I want to explain where I was coming from, and this time I've done a bit more research.
First off, my response was sparked by Lydia's comment (see last blog posting for Lydia's blog links), which I'll paste below because it gives a good starting point. And by the way, thanks, Lydia, for the interaction. That gives me great joy as a blogger because (a) I know someone's taking the time to read and respond, and (b) I like the exchange of information. I feel that in college especially, I'm expected to fall into a certain design for a "student" that is a note-taker , lecture-absorber, and test-writer. Unfortunately, I don't learn well that way, and I crave the interaction. Which is probably why my response will be so long. Anyway, here's her comment, along with my (rather long) response...
***
Hi Mark,
Interesting post. I am glad you're doing shoeboxes because it makes you feel good. However, what about when doing these kinds of things doesn't make you feel good? Don't you think we should just do it anyways, because as followers of Jesus the poor should be pretty high on our priority list?
***
I guess what I was getting at was the difference in motivation. I think we do too much "grin and bear it" stuff as Christians simply because we think we're doing the right thing. We give money or time to causes that are no doubt worthy, but we do it not because we want to, but because we’re bound out of a sense of obligation, thinking that we should do it.
that’s become clichéd, “God loves a cheerful giver” (2 Cor. 9:7).
One more passage, if I can be so bold, really makes me think in this area. Jesus said in Matthew 7:21-23, “Not everyone who says to me ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but he who does the will of My Father who is in heaven will enter. Many will say to Me on that day, ‘Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in Your name, and in Your name cast out demons, and in Your name perform many miracles?’ And then I will declare to them, ‘I never knew you; depart from Me, you who practice lawlessness.” I think there’s some application in this verse as well, in that if we do something in Jesus’ name, and yet fail to appreciate the will of the Father, it’s probably better for us not to do it at all. God wants us to give to the needy, and yet if we do it out of obligation or guilt, we’re not appreciating His will in that situation.
Thanks again for stopping by, and I'll see you tomorrow.
Back To It...
Here we go again, back to the grind. After a lovely five-day break in the middle of the semester (it's like early Christmas, really), it's back to school today. D'oh! Oh well, all good things must end and all that.
Yes, I did say "today." I'm doing this post in the morning, a rare thing in these parts. For that reason, and because I have nothing of note to say, I'll be very brief. Really, when you're on reading break--especially after a day like yesterday which consisted of homework, homework, and more homework--nothing interesting happens.
Well, we did get our shoeboxes done, finally. Good thing too, considering it's collection day today. There are all sorts of different incentives at school for the student body to make some shoeboxes (it's a lot like high school in that way), including the president of the college shaving his head if we get to 400, which is roughly one box per student. I think his mane is safe, personally, because as of two days ago, there were 280. But you never know; maybe there are lots of people like me who do it at the very last minute. I'll keep you posted.
It was a lot of fun filling the boxes. We ended up doing three--two boys and a girl--and spent very little to give a kid the best Christmas gift they can get. Feels good, you know? We're not exactly flush with cash right now, but when you realize how little it takes to give a kid a fantastic gift, the likes of which they've never seen, you realize how wealthy you are.
Okay, I know that everyone plays up that angle--we're the wealthiest people in the world, there are children starving, blah, blah, blah. I don't mean to be crass, but there's only a certain amount of that one can take before the pleas start falling on deaf ears. We become desensitized to the images of pain and suffering a world away because it's not in our backyard. But I suppose that even when it's in our backyard, we still turn a blind eye. It's just a little harder to do.
Not sure where I'm going with that. I suppose I'm just filling space again. Here's the main point, if you care: I'm not doing shoeboxes because I'm motivated by some external plea for help or my heart strings are stirred by moving pictures of poverty. I've seen it. I've watched the videos. I come across Jann Arden hyping World Vision in paid programs on Global. No, I'm not doing this because some mediocre musician told me to. I'm doing it because it makes me feel good to help. And that's really the only reason. Help motivated by guilt is nothing more than empty charity, and an insincere gift isn't worth giving. Of course, I'm not on the receiving end, so I can't say that for sure--it's just my opinion.
Okay, time to get ready for the day--coffee's on, and I have an hour to get ready and get to chapel. See you again tomorrow, or, I suppose, tonight, or whenever you read this thing.
Yes, I did say "today." I'm doing this post in the morning, a rare thing in these parts. For that reason, and because I have nothing of note to say, I'll be very brief. Really, when you're on reading break--especially after a day like yesterday which consisted of homework, homework, and more homework--nothing interesting happens.
Well, we did get our shoeboxes done, finally. Good thing too, considering it's collection day today. There are all sorts of different incentives at school for the student body to make some shoeboxes (it's a lot like high school in that way), including the president of the college shaving his head if we get to 400, which is roughly one box per student. I think his mane is safe, personally, because as of two days ago, there were 280. But you never know; maybe there are lots of people like me who do it at the very last minute. I'll keep you posted.
It was a lot of fun filling the boxes. We ended up doing three--two boys and a girl--and spent very little to give a kid the best Christmas gift they can get. Feels good, you know? We're not exactly flush with cash right now, but when you realize how little it takes to give a kid a fantastic gift, the likes of which they've never seen, you realize how wealthy you are.
Okay, I know that everyone plays up that angle--we're the wealthiest people in the world, there are children starving, blah, blah, blah. I don't mean to be crass, but there's only a certain amount of that one can take before the pleas start falling on deaf ears. We become desensitized to the images of pain and suffering a world away because it's not in our backyard. But I suppose that even when it's in our backyard, we still turn a blind eye. It's just a little harder to do.
Not sure where I'm going with that. I suppose I'm just filling space again. Here's the main point, if you care: I'm not doing shoeboxes because I'm motivated by some external plea for help or my heart strings are stirred by moving pictures of poverty. I've seen it. I've watched the videos. I come across Jann Arden hyping World Vision in paid programs on Global. No, I'm not doing this because some mediocre musician told me to. I'm doing it because it makes me feel good to help. And that's really the only reason. Help motivated by guilt is nothing more than empty charity, and an insincere gift isn't worth giving. Of course, I'm not on the receiving end, so I can't say that for sure--it's just my opinion.
Okay, time to get ready for the day--coffee's on, and I have an hour to get ready and get to chapel. See you again tomorrow, or, I suppose, tonight, or whenever you read this thing.
11.13.2006
Banff
This weekend, we learned that our house isn't actually as accommodating as it seems, especially when you try to fit six people into it. Maybe "cozy" is the more appropriate term. Turns out that having one person in the front bedroom and two on the hide-a-bed makes for a packed house. And it's made all the more acute by the fact that we have but one bathroom. No fights, though, which was good.
The happy couple just returned home this evening, full of starry eyes and grand plans. Ah, to be newly-engaged again. It's a good reminder for old married couples like us to see a couple who are just starting to plan their lives together. We get so caught up in the little inane details of life that we sometimes fail to see the bigger picture of themes like love and commitment. We're so busy changing diapers and giving bottles that we forget why we even decided to spend our lives together in the first place. So even though excessive PDA's make me a little bit ill (sorry guys; we love you), it's a good reminder.
And so much for reading break. Oh well, I have one more day in which to tackle some big-time homework. It's been nice, though, to have four days in a row off, with one more coming tomorrow. Even though I didn't get everything I planned accomplished, I did other important things, like hang out with friends and spend a night in a beautiful hotel.
Speaking of which, want to see some photos? Too bad if you don't. Here's the happy couple, just so you can put a face to names...
And here's another happy couple...
The town of Banff, of course...
And finally, the view from our hotel room window. Told you it was spectacular...
I think that's all I'm going to do tonight. I just spent close to an hour updating Theo's blog, so I figure I've done my work for the evening. Come back again tomorrow for some more excitement--I'm sure I'll be able to cook some up by then.
The happy couple just returned home this evening, full of starry eyes and grand plans. Ah, to be newly-engaged again. It's a good reminder for old married couples like us to see a couple who are just starting to plan their lives together. We get so caught up in the little inane details of life that we sometimes fail to see the bigger picture of themes like love and commitment. We're so busy changing diapers and giving bottles that we forget why we even decided to spend our lives together in the first place. So even though excessive PDA's make me a little bit ill (sorry guys; we love you), it's a good reminder.
And so much for reading break. Oh well, I have one more day in which to tackle some big-time homework. It's been nice, though, to have four days in a row off, with one more coming tomorrow. Even though I didn't get everything I planned accomplished, I did other important things, like hang out with friends and spend a night in a beautiful hotel.
Speaking of which, want to see some photos? Too bad if you don't. Here's the happy couple, just so you can put a face to names...
And here's another happy couple...
The town of Banff, of course...
And finally, the view from our hotel room window. Told you it was spectacular...
I think that's all I'm going to do tonight. I just spent close to an hour updating Theo's blog, so I figure I've done my work for the evening. Come back again tomorrow for some more excitement--I'm sure I'll be able to cook some up by then.
11.11.2006
Exciting News!
I feel like I've been lying to you, the blogging public, for the last three days. Now I can finally come clean, which is the main reason I'm doing this posting on Saturday between periods of the Canucks-Flames tilt. Which means that it's also going to be a short explanation, with more to come on Monday.
Here's the exciting news: Steph's best friend since, well, a long time, is now officially engaged! Congratulations Tanya Szczur and Mark Wilson--we're so happy for you! Steph and I played a role in the actual engagement itself, which happened at the Banff National Park tollbooth last night, no, this morning, at just after midnight.
It was difficult for us not letting it slip. And the plan did involve quite a bit of cloak-and-dagger emails and planning behind Tanya's back. Which, of course, made the event all the more sweet. Good times were had by all.
Here's what's actually been happening at our house before all this, which I couldn't say on the blog earlier because if Tanya had read it, it would have busted the surprise. You see, last night we stayed over in Banff (see my previous comment about the engagement happening at just after midnight in Banff, over 300 km from Three Hills), and the dilemma was what to do with Theo while we were there. So what ended up happening was that Steph's mom flew out on Wednesday of last week (which is why we drove to Calgary in a snowstorm--it wasn't voluntary) so that she could take care of him last night. So now she's here until next Saturday. Tanya and Mark were originally going to come out this weekend to visit us, but with the engagement and all, they're spending an extra night in Banff before they come up here. Which means that tomorrow night we'll have a house full of guests. And that's really cool, considering how slowly the last four weeks have gone just staring at the same four walls all the time with nobody to talk to (except my lovely blog readers).
Ah, so much more to say, but alas, the game is starting again, and I want to have something more to talk about on Monday. So come back then. By the way, we have guests over pretty much from now until the end of the semester, so if my blog entries all of a sudden become much shorter, it's because I'm having trouble finding time to do them. But I'll still be here reliably.
Anyway, that's it for tonight. Thanks for stopping by, and I'll see you Monday.
Here's the exciting news: Steph's best friend since, well, a long time, is now officially engaged! Congratulations Tanya Szczur and Mark Wilson--we're so happy for you! Steph and I played a role in the actual engagement itself, which happened at the Banff National Park tollbooth last night, no, this morning, at just after midnight.
It was difficult for us not letting it slip. And the plan did involve quite a bit of cloak-and-dagger emails and planning behind Tanya's back. Which, of course, made the event all the more sweet. Good times were had by all.
Here's what's actually been happening at our house before all this, which I couldn't say on the blog earlier because if Tanya had read it, it would have busted the surprise. You see, last night we stayed over in Banff (see my previous comment about the engagement happening at just after midnight in Banff, over 300 km from Three Hills), and the dilemma was what to do with Theo while we were there. So what ended up happening was that Steph's mom flew out on Wednesday of last week (which is why we drove to Calgary in a snowstorm--it wasn't voluntary) so that she could take care of him last night. So now she's here until next Saturday. Tanya and Mark were originally going to come out this weekend to visit us, but with the engagement and all, they're spending an extra night in Banff before they come up here. Which means that tomorrow night we'll have a house full of guests. And that's really cool, considering how slowly the last four weeks have gone just staring at the same four walls all the time with nobody to talk to (except my lovely blog readers).
Ah, so much more to say, but alas, the game is starting again, and I want to have something more to talk about on Monday. So come back then. By the way, we have guests over pretty much from now until the end of the semester, so if my blog entries all of a sudden become much shorter, it's because I'm having trouble finding time to do them. But I'll still be here reliably.
Anyway, that's it for tonight. Thanks for stopping by, and I'll see you Monday.
11.10.2006
Short, but Sweet...
I need to be brief tonight, due to some extenuating circumstances. To whit, we're leaving shortly to pick up our friend Tanya at the airport. Yes, it is a little bit late to pick someone up at the airport. But hey, whatever--it's an excuse to get out of town and be night owls. If you consider leaving the house at 8:00 being a night owl. Ah, how my new life as a parent has changed my perspective.
The good thing about having to be brief is that this was really an unexciting day in every sense of the word. Got up way too early to feed the boy, but that's okay. Besides, it gives me a reason to watch Lunar Jim in the mornings. Since it's reading break, I decided to, well, engage in that activity some today as well. I'm reading Thomas Oden's The Rebirth of Orthodoxy. It's a really challenging book about the new realities of the postmodern era and its effect on what church is.
As a quick primer, here's what I'm going to say about postmodernism as it relates to what I'm studying. As we leave the modern era behind (most say it ended when the Berlin Wall came down in 1989), we're moving into a new age of disillusionment. We've realized that we weren't as smart as we thought we were; that hovercars and space flight didn't materialize as we thought they would, nor do we have robot servants. We thought our quest for knowledge would end things like war, poverty, famine, and disease, and yet we live in a world where these things are more rampant than ever. Our hopes of a bright new tomorrow fizzled.
All that disillusionment has led to a desire to change. In my opinion, there are two different facets of postmodernism in church culture. The first is what we'd term the "Emergent" church movement--the idea of, to be crude, sitting around on couches and talking about our feelings. The second branch is this idea of rebirthing orthodoxy; or, more accurately, rediscovering the ancient writings and interpretations of Scripture and their value to us today. In modernity, we thought that anything old was bad. In postmoernity, we're beginning to realize that maybe there was something to it.
Anyway, that's being very crude and skipping several important facets (like the rejection of metanarrative and the turn to relativism--don't get me started on that pish-posh), but it'll do for what I'm trying to say, which is that I'm really digging this book by Oden. If you're at all interested in how church is going to look in 10-20 years (and you're sick of reading Brian McLaren's view on it, as I am), then you owe it to yourself to check this book out. Well, maybe that's too strong, but I think it's a good idea to keep up with developments, you know?
The point of all of this digression was not simply to fill space, although it did that pretty well. The point is that I read today. On reading break. Oh, the irony of it all.
Tried to head to the gym after lunch, but it was closed. Reading break. I shook my fist at it and walked away. How am I supposed to work off all those empty calories from candy? The candy, by the way, that is pretty much gone. And that's good, although I am starting to have Reese Cup withdrawl. It's not pretty.
With the gym a failure, I came home and instead had a nap, which is just as good a use of my time. Managed to get two hours out of it--nice. And it means that I'm fully alert for the upcoming drive to the Calgary airport to pick up Tanya. Which is good, because, well, staying awake while driving is usually the best practice.
So that's about it--the story of my day. I'm going to give you a little tease and say that I am planning on doing a post tomorrow--a special weekend-edition blog, if you will (and I know you will). Check it out, if you dare.
Until then, well, you'll just have to do something productive. Sorry about that. Thanks for stopping in, and I'll see you again tomorrow.
The good thing about having to be brief is that this was really an unexciting day in every sense of the word. Got up way too early to feed the boy, but that's okay. Besides, it gives me a reason to watch Lunar Jim in the mornings. Since it's reading break, I decided to, well, engage in that activity some today as well. I'm reading Thomas Oden's The Rebirth of Orthodoxy. It's a really challenging book about the new realities of the postmodern era and its effect on what church is.
As a quick primer, here's what I'm going to say about postmodernism as it relates to what I'm studying. As we leave the modern era behind (most say it ended when the Berlin Wall came down in 1989), we're moving into a new age of disillusionment. We've realized that we weren't as smart as we thought we were; that hovercars and space flight didn't materialize as we thought they would, nor do we have robot servants. We thought our quest for knowledge would end things like war, poverty, famine, and disease, and yet we live in a world where these things are more rampant than ever. Our hopes of a bright new tomorrow fizzled.
All that disillusionment has led to a desire to change. In my opinion, there are two different facets of postmodernism in church culture. The first is what we'd term the "Emergent" church movement--the idea of, to be crude, sitting around on couches and talking about our feelings. The second branch is this idea of rebirthing orthodoxy; or, more accurately, rediscovering the ancient writings and interpretations of Scripture and their value to us today. In modernity, we thought that anything old was bad. In postmoernity, we're beginning to realize that maybe there was something to it.
Anyway, that's being very crude and skipping several important facets (like the rejection of metanarrative and the turn to relativism--don't get me started on that pish-posh), but it'll do for what I'm trying to say, which is that I'm really digging this book by Oden. If you're at all interested in how church is going to look in 10-20 years (and you're sick of reading Brian McLaren's view on it, as I am), then you owe it to yourself to check this book out. Well, maybe that's too strong, but I think it's a good idea to keep up with developments, you know?
The point of all of this digression was not simply to fill space, although it did that pretty well. The point is that I read today. On reading break. Oh, the irony of it all.
Tried to head to the gym after lunch, but it was closed. Reading break. I shook my fist at it and walked away. How am I supposed to work off all those empty calories from candy? The candy, by the way, that is pretty much gone. And that's good, although I am starting to have Reese Cup withdrawl. It's not pretty.
With the gym a failure, I came home and instead had a nap, which is just as good a use of my time. Managed to get two hours out of it--nice. And it means that I'm fully alert for the upcoming drive to the Calgary airport to pick up Tanya. Which is good, because, well, staying awake while driving is usually the best practice.
So that's about it--the story of my day. I'm going to give you a little tease and say that I am planning on doing a post tomorrow--a special weekend-edition blog, if you will (and I know you will). Check it out, if you dare.
Until then, well, you'll just have to do something productive. Sorry about that. Thanks for stopping in, and I'll see you again tomorrow.
11.09.2006
An Unsubstantial Report...
It seems to me that the pressure never really disappears. Oh sure, you have momentary reprieves and the occasional feeling that you're really getting ahead of the game, but in the end, you always come back to the fact that there's always pressure.
What am I talking about? Oh, life in general, I suppose. I'm still working on the whole "what do you want to be when you grow up" thing. I started looking at grad school options tonight, and man, it's depressing. I really want to be able to do something beyond this BA, and preferrably soon. But there's this whole thing in life about actually being able to pay for it all, which seems to always throw a wrench in the plans.
This education thing sure is expensive. It'd be better if tuition was the only thing to worry about, but there's also this thing about being able to support a family and have a place to live and such. Minor details, I'm sure. So the upshot of everything is that I'm really no closer to, well, any kind of decision than I was a week, a month, a year ago. I just need life to get off pause and back into play. But I'm sure that'll come--it just seems a long way away right at this moment.
Let's pick something a little bit better and more upbeat to talk about, shall we? Hey, it's reading break! An extra two days to feel guilty about not doing enough school work! Super.
I had an in-class presentation today, which was a lot of fun. Well, okay, it actually kind of sucked. Not that the presentation was bad, it's just that the teacher's idea of what's practical was a little off. You see, our classes are 75 minutes long. We start this particular class with a reading from Scripture (which is appropriate, considering the setting) that usually takes 15 minutes. So we're left with 60 minutes of class time. For some reason, the teacher thinks that we can stuff two presentations into those 60 minutes, including some good class interaction. So, after the readjusting between presentations and all that stuff, you're left with about 20 minutes or less to complete a presentation that's worth 15% of your overall grade. Hmm.
Anyway, the guy before me had this really amazing presentation, even if it was a little bit of a broad topic: he wanted to discuss the practical implications of the postmodern worldview to ministry. Wow, that last sentence really made me sound like a college student. It was really engaging, and he brought up all sorts of amazing issues that I think we could've spent an entire class on. The problem was that when he was done, I only had 15 minutes. And the worst part is that I might never get to finish my presentation because there are other presentations scheduled for future classes. So basically, I got 15 minutes to do 1/3 of a presentation that was worth 15% of my grade. Sounds fair.
Oh well, at least I had a really good handout so that he'd know where I would have gone with it had I actually been able to do it properly. And it helped that when class was over, everyone in class also asked the teacher if I could finish up next class because they were really interested in what I was talking about. So at least I got people thinking, which was my intention the whole time.
Other than school, not much on the go. Used up all my photos yesterday, so I don't even have that to waste time with. And Lunar Jim's been done two days in a row now, so that's out, too (although, I have to say, today's episode was stellar--7:30 on Kids CBC, at least in the mountain time zone, just in case you're interested in watching). Shoveled the front porch area this morning, which is always a fun way to spend a morning. I didn't quite get to the sidewalk, but that doesn't really bother me much. Except for the fact that I seem to be the only guy who hasn't done his sidewalk. It's actually really funny--the sidewalk is nice and clear down the whole street, then outside our house, it's not clear, then right after our house it starts up again. Now all I need is a car up on blocks on the front lawn, and I'm good to go.
Caught another Grey's Anatomy episode, so my fix has been satiated. Which is good because I was starting to twitch and break out in a cold sweat. Nasty. I still contend that it's the best show on TV. You should really check it out.
Okay, well, for lack of more content and not wanting to just ramble on aimlessly (I could debrief my morning conversation about the benefits and downsides to ecumenicalism, but I'm pretty sure you have to go wash your hair, or something), I think that'll be it for the evening. I'm really looking forward to not having to go to school tomorrow (did I mention that?). Heck, I might even stay in my PJ's all day. So there. Lots of reading to do, though, which is appropriate for reading break. Aptly named, it is.
So anyway, have a pleasant evening, and we'll see you back here tomorrow.
What am I talking about? Oh, life in general, I suppose. I'm still working on the whole "what do you want to be when you grow up" thing. I started looking at grad school options tonight, and man, it's depressing. I really want to be able to do something beyond this BA, and preferrably soon. But there's this whole thing in life about actually being able to pay for it all, which seems to always throw a wrench in the plans.
This education thing sure is expensive. It'd be better if tuition was the only thing to worry about, but there's also this thing about being able to support a family and have a place to live and such. Minor details, I'm sure. So the upshot of everything is that I'm really no closer to, well, any kind of decision than I was a week, a month, a year ago. I just need life to get off pause and back into play. But I'm sure that'll come--it just seems a long way away right at this moment.
Let's pick something a little bit better and more upbeat to talk about, shall we? Hey, it's reading break! An extra two days to feel guilty about not doing enough school work! Super.
I had an in-class presentation today, which was a lot of fun. Well, okay, it actually kind of sucked. Not that the presentation was bad, it's just that the teacher's idea of what's practical was a little off. You see, our classes are 75 minutes long. We start this particular class with a reading from Scripture (which is appropriate, considering the setting) that usually takes 15 minutes. So we're left with 60 minutes of class time. For some reason, the teacher thinks that we can stuff two presentations into those 60 minutes, including some good class interaction. So, after the readjusting between presentations and all that stuff, you're left with about 20 minutes or less to complete a presentation that's worth 15% of your overall grade. Hmm.
Anyway, the guy before me had this really amazing presentation, even if it was a little bit of a broad topic: he wanted to discuss the practical implications of the postmodern worldview to ministry. Wow, that last sentence really made me sound like a college student. It was really engaging, and he brought up all sorts of amazing issues that I think we could've spent an entire class on. The problem was that when he was done, I only had 15 minutes. And the worst part is that I might never get to finish my presentation because there are other presentations scheduled for future classes. So basically, I got 15 minutes to do 1/3 of a presentation that was worth 15% of my grade. Sounds fair.
Oh well, at least I had a really good handout so that he'd know where I would have gone with it had I actually been able to do it properly. And it helped that when class was over, everyone in class also asked the teacher if I could finish up next class because they were really interested in what I was talking about. So at least I got people thinking, which was my intention the whole time.
Other than school, not much on the go. Used up all my photos yesterday, so I don't even have that to waste time with. And Lunar Jim's been done two days in a row now, so that's out, too (although, I have to say, today's episode was stellar--7:30 on Kids CBC, at least in the mountain time zone, just in case you're interested in watching). Shoveled the front porch area this morning, which is always a fun way to spend a morning. I didn't quite get to the sidewalk, but that doesn't really bother me much. Except for the fact that I seem to be the only guy who hasn't done his sidewalk. It's actually really funny--the sidewalk is nice and clear down the whole street, then outside our house, it's not clear, then right after our house it starts up again. Now all I need is a car up on blocks on the front lawn, and I'm good to go.
Caught another Grey's Anatomy episode, so my fix has been satiated. Which is good because I was starting to twitch and break out in a cold sweat. Nasty. I still contend that it's the best show on TV. You should really check it out.
Okay, well, for lack of more content and not wanting to just ramble on aimlessly (I could debrief my morning conversation about the benefits and downsides to ecumenicalism, but I'm pretty sure you have to go wash your hair, or something), I think that'll be it for the evening. I'm really looking forward to not having to go to school tomorrow (did I mention that?). Heck, I might even stay in my PJ's all day. So there. Lots of reading to do, though, which is appropriate for reading break. Aptly named, it is.
So anyway, have a pleasant evening, and we'll see you back here tomorrow.
11.08.2006
One More Day, Then Freedom...
I hate it when this happens. Earlier in the evening, I had a wicked opening line for tonight's blog entry, and alas, I have summarily forgotten it. Gah! It was really good, too. Not sure what it was about, exactly, but I'm sure it would have been scintillating. Now you're just going to have to put up with second-rate stuff that I just thought up.
One more day, as my title implies, until I am free, at least for a couple days. That's right, the college student's most sacred time of year has finally arrived: reading break. Those two words have magical powers, I'm telling you. And there's only one more day of classes before it happens. Okay, I've really only got two days off when you count the weekend and the fact that I don't have class on Mondays anyway, but it's something, and I'll take it. I might even read, but let's not get ahead of ourselves, shall we?
It was somewhere in between here and Calgary when the raging blizzard started. I'm serious--we were merrily heading toward the big city, when suddenly, it just hit. Bam. Out of nowhere. Lower Mainland-style snow, too; thick flakes that are wet and slushy causing general driving chaos. At one point, we were going 60 down the freeway (Highway 2)--the speed limit is 110. And getting back was terrible. What should have been a one-hour trip turned into just under two. And that was only because the snow magically stopped again about 40 clicks north of Highway 1 and Calgary. Weird.
It really was a bad drive. The snow was so heavy at one point that I couldn't see even 20 feet ahead of me, and I was driving down an unfamiliar road in the quasi-darkness of twilight. It's actually worse to drive in twilight than in pitch darkness. Seriously, that sucked.
Moving on. Since I really don't have all that much to report today, I figured I'd get to what I've been meaning to get to all week--pictures! And not just any pictures: pictures of Three Hills in winter. They're quite nice, actually.
For a while there, we were trying to get the quintessential fall picture. You know the one I'm talking about. The kind of shot that all movie directors use when they want to push your warm nostalgia button. And although there were some really breathtaking moments this fall, none of them really turned out the way we had planned in a photo, so we never got the shot. But all that's changed with winter here.
For example, this one. That building in the background, by the way, is Prairie's married student housing (read: dorms for the married folk). We're pretty happy that we've got a whole house to ourselves, let me tell you.
Here's another gooder...
Shots like this always make me think of the bigger story behind them. Where were those three sets of feet going? What errand took them across the snow? Who do these prints belong to? Are we alone in the universe? Okay, that last one was just a random thought, but the rest were good...
The water tower in stark relief thanks to the setting sun...
One of the fields near our house...
And finally, the finest example of pre-World War II architecture you ever did see: Prairie's East Gym...
Actually, many of the campus buildings date way back to the founding of the college in the 20's, so it's no wonder they're starting to tear some of them down. Although, the tearing down has left many in town torn up. These are the buildings after all, you can't just tear them down willy-nilly. What of our heritage? And no matter how many compelling and logical arguments you make (for example: we were paying tens of thousands of dollars a year to heat this massive building when we weren't even using it; or, but there's a dangerously high level of mould in the basement that's actually hazardous to human health), it doesn't matter. Those are the old buildings and they have to stay.
Our new president is doing good things, though. He's slowly winning people over to the new way of doing things, and the college is embarking on a major building project that will see a beautiful new structure up by the end of the year (so they say) with another one in the works for 2008. Slowly, ever so slowly, Prairie will catch up to the new century. By that time it'll already be the next century, but hey, any change is good, right?
Before I go, I think I've figured out why I like that Lunar Jim so much. Who does he remind you of? Perhaps this guy...
It's Tintin, silly people (sorry for the small picture). Oh, and of course, his dog, Snowy. Don't talk to me about snowy, stupid dog--you don't know what "snowy" is. Anyway, is Lunar Jim simply a Canadian rip-off of Belguim's most famous export? Seriously, what else has Belguim done? Oh yeah, chocolate. Okay, they get a pass. And Dr. Evil--that's a quality export, too.
He even has the same hairdo. That's a little odd, isn't it?
Anyway, I have this thing for Tintin and Snowy, ever since Expo '86 when I saw them at the Belguim pavillion and bought a comic book. I must have read that thing a thousand times. The kicker was that it was all about them going into space, so Tintin even wore a space suit just like Lunar Jim wears. Seriously, I'm on to something.
By the way, here's a belated warning: as my dad found out, the Lunar Jim homepage does in fact have sound. If you are at work, you should turn down your speakers first. But if you get there, be sure to check out the "Theme Song" section to get the catchy little thing stuck in your head all day. And to understand why the word "Lunar-iffic" may be entering my vocabulary on a regular basis.
Right-oh, that about does it. See you again tomorrow.
One more day, as my title implies, until I am free, at least for a couple days. That's right, the college student's most sacred time of year has finally arrived: reading break. Those two words have magical powers, I'm telling you. And there's only one more day of classes before it happens. Okay, I've really only got two days off when you count the weekend and the fact that I don't have class on Mondays anyway, but it's something, and I'll take it. I might even read, but let's not get ahead of ourselves, shall we?
It was somewhere in between here and Calgary when the raging blizzard started. I'm serious--we were merrily heading toward the big city, when suddenly, it just hit. Bam. Out of nowhere. Lower Mainland-style snow, too; thick flakes that are wet and slushy causing general driving chaos. At one point, we were going 60 down the freeway (Highway 2)--the speed limit is 110. And getting back was terrible. What should have been a one-hour trip turned into just under two. And that was only because the snow magically stopped again about 40 clicks north of Highway 1 and Calgary. Weird.
It really was a bad drive. The snow was so heavy at one point that I couldn't see even 20 feet ahead of me, and I was driving down an unfamiliar road in the quasi-darkness of twilight. It's actually worse to drive in twilight than in pitch darkness. Seriously, that sucked.
Moving on. Since I really don't have all that much to report today, I figured I'd get to what I've been meaning to get to all week--pictures! And not just any pictures: pictures of Three Hills in winter. They're quite nice, actually.
For a while there, we were trying to get the quintessential fall picture. You know the one I'm talking about. The kind of shot that all movie directors use when they want to push your warm nostalgia button. And although there were some really breathtaking moments this fall, none of them really turned out the way we had planned in a photo, so we never got the shot. But all that's changed with winter here.
For example, this one. That building in the background, by the way, is Prairie's married student housing (read: dorms for the married folk). We're pretty happy that we've got a whole house to ourselves, let me tell you.
Here's another gooder...
Shots like this always make me think of the bigger story behind them. Where were those three sets of feet going? What errand took them across the snow? Who do these prints belong to? Are we alone in the universe? Okay, that last one was just a random thought, but the rest were good...
The water tower in stark relief thanks to the setting sun...
One of the fields near our house...
And finally, the finest example of pre-World War II architecture you ever did see: Prairie's East Gym...
Actually, many of the campus buildings date way back to the founding of the college in the 20's, so it's no wonder they're starting to tear some of them down. Although, the tearing down has left many in town torn up. These are the buildings after all, you can't just tear them down willy-nilly. What of our heritage? And no matter how many compelling and logical arguments you make (for example: we were paying tens of thousands of dollars a year to heat this massive building when we weren't even using it; or, but there's a dangerously high level of mould in the basement that's actually hazardous to human health), it doesn't matter. Those are the old buildings and they have to stay.Our new president is doing good things, though. He's slowly winning people over to the new way of doing things, and the college is embarking on a major building project that will see a beautiful new structure up by the end of the year (so they say) with another one in the works for 2008. Slowly, ever so slowly, Prairie will catch up to the new century. By that time it'll already be the next century, but hey, any change is good, right?
Before I go, I think I've figured out why I like that Lunar Jim so much. Who does he remind you of? Perhaps this guy...
It's Tintin, silly people (sorry for the small picture). Oh, and of course, his dog, Snowy. Don't talk to me about snowy, stupid dog--you don't know what "snowy" is. Anyway, is Lunar Jim simply a Canadian rip-off of Belguim's most famous export? Seriously, what else has Belguim done? Oh yeah, chocolate. Okay, they get a pass. And Dr. Evil--that's a quality export, too.He even has the same hairdo. That's a little odd, isn't it?
Anyway, I have this thing for Tintin and Snowy, ever since Expo '86 when I saw them at the Belguim pavillion and bought a comic book. I must have read that thing a thousand times. The kicker was that it was all about them going into space, so Tintin even wore a space suit just like Lunar Jim wears. Seriously, I'm on to something.
By the way, here's a belated warning: as my dad found out, the Lunar Jim homepage does in fact have sound. If you are at work, you should turn down your speakers first. But if you get there, be sure to check out the "Theme Song" section to get the catchy little thing stuck in your head all day. And to understand why the word "Lunar-iffic" may be entering my vocabulary on a regular basis.
Right-oh, that about does it. See you again tomorrow.
11.07.2006
How Many Topics Can One Post Cover?
Do you like my new profile picture? Do you know who it is? Why, it's Lunar Jim, of course. Can you tell we watch Kids CBC in the mornings around here? Lunar Jim is by far my favourite of these shows. Good Canadian programming. Which, surprisingly, isn't an oxymoron.
Actually, it's been really interesting to only get CBC and Global (and a very blurry CTV, but only on a good day). Steph was saying today that even though you get used to the programs you liked to watch when you had a bunch of channels, you quickly find replacements if pressed. And I think that CBC is given a pretty unfair rap, when it all comes down. Their kids programming is excellent, I really have to say. No commercials, interesting selection of programs (that are neither insulting nor violent), and good hosts that really keep kids interested. Or so it seems. I'll let you know for sure in a couple years when Theo's old enough to tell me what he thinks.
Rain tonight. Yes, that's right--rain. Not snow. Not hail. Rain. Thanks a lot, pineapple express. But hey, I'm glad to take away some of the rain from you Lower Mainlanders, so you're welcome. I'm just thinking that it'll probably freeze tonight, and that's a recipe for disaster tomorrow. Especially since we have a drive. But hey, they say that this is a "chinook", which in Albertaese means "weather that isn't cold enough to freeze your back end off." I guess we're close enough to Calgary to benefit somewhat. Although it was supposed to have been 18 degrees today in Calgary. Definitely wasn't that here. But hey, it's not snowing. That'll make the walk to school tomorrow a little bit more bearable.
Speaking of school, things are progressing rapidly, steadily, and in the order they're supposed to be going in, which is always comforting. I've been in this sort of la-la land over the course of this semester, knowing that I'm going to graduate in April, but not really wanting to believe it's going to actually happen. The fact is that my degree, like an unsightly mole, has been a part of who I am for several years now. I've learned to accept the fact that it's there, without ever really having come to terms with the fact that it wasn't finished. And every decision that we've made since we first got married has always had the "what about your degree?" element to it. It's strange to think that we won't have that dimension in a while.
It's actually really freeing, to be honest, but like a recently-released prisoner, I'm not sure what to do with that freedom. I feel the need to re-offend just to get back to the familiarity, even if it isn't healthy for me. What I really need, and I know Steph will agree wholeheartedly, is a break from having a school-related obligation. Yeah, I want my master's, but really, the pressure isn't on right now, or at least it shouldn't be.
I think that what I really need is a renewed sense of meaning. There's just something satisfying about being in the right place at the right time, and I haven't felt that in quite some time. In fact, I haven't felt it in so long that I'm beginning to accept the fact that I might never feel it again, and believe that this is the way it's always going to be. But that's not true. Like king Theoden in the Lord of the Rings, I've been trapped under some spell that's clouded who and what I really am, and it's time for it to stop. So here's to a quest for meaning.
Just as wrote that, I got a nosebleed. I wonder if that's a sign of some kind.
Changing the topic rapidly, and please, be careful not to get whiplash, we are so addicted to Grey's Anatomy that it's really sad. We live for our next fix. Every night, we ask "So, what do you have on tap for this evening?" hoping that the answer that comes from the other is, "I was thinking that we could watch some Grey's Anatomy." And every time we can't just watch one--we have to watch multiple episodes. It's crazy how good this show is.
But we're now at an impasse, a dilemma of sorts. We just watched episode 20 of 27 which, of course, means that we're running out of episodes a little too quickly. Part of me wants to draw it out as long as I can, because I know that once we've watched all of them, there's no more until season 3 comes out on DVD, which won't be until the summer. But they're just so good that what we really want to do is just sit down and watch them all in one sitting. A difficult decision, to be sure.
Maybe having houseguests will mean that our Grey's time is cut for a while, which, although it will make me go through withdrawl, will likely be good for us. No wait, it won't be. Gah! I don't know what to do. Don't worry, I'll keep you posted.
Okay, we're almost done changing topics. I'm serious. Anyway, what I was going to say is that my sermon went well today, thanks for asking. Is it possible to be proud of a sermon? If so, I am. If not, you didn't just read that. I felt really good about this one, and I think the class liked it too. Which is good, considering we peer evaluate. Which is, quite honestly, a bit of a joke, especially when you get the peer evaluations handed back to you with the marker's name on it. So who in their right mind would give their classmate a failing grade when they know that the classmate is going to evaluate them too? Unless they think that such thoughts of revenge are out of place at Bible College. Yeah, they're probably right. But still, it's the principle.
Anyway, I managed in one sermon to pull in references to both the Muppets and the X-Files, so I'm pretty pleased. And I think it was faithful to the text as well, which is also a good bonus. It's funny though, having to craft these sermons and deliver them to a class of people who are also in the sermon-crafting business. It sometimes feels like we're being evaluated on performance value, which we essentially are. Our evaluation sheets include things like "Intellectual Directness" and "Physical Presentation." What they're really short on is "Impact of Holy Spirit" and other sermonific things. Or are they homilific things? Anyway, it's just a little weird is all. One more to go, this one a 15-minute beast. I'm up in late November, so I've got a bit of time.
Okay, seriously, I'm done. Yes, I have more to say. But I need something to talk about later this week. The problem is that I've still got something on the back-burner here that I've wanted to talk about both yesterday and today, but have instead have let other things override it. Oh well, it'll keep.
Hope to see you all again tomorrow. Same time, same place, same bat-channel.
Actually, it's been really interesting to only get CBC and Global (and a very blurry CTV, but only on a good day). Steph was saying today that even though you get used to the programs you liked to watch when you had a bunch of channels, you quickly find replacements if pressed. And I think that CBC is given a pretty unfair rap, when it all comes down. Their kids programming is excellent, I really have to say. No commercials, interesting selection of programs (that are neither insulting nor violent), and good hosts that really keep kids interested. Or so it seems. I'll let you know for sure in a couple years when Theo's old enough to tell me what he thinks.
Rain tonight. Yes, that's right--rain. Not snow. Not hail. Rain. Thanks a lot, pineapple express. But hey, I'm glad to take away some of the rain from you Lower Mainlanders, so you're welcome. I'm just thinking that it'll probably freeze tonight, and that's a recipe for disaster tomorrow. Especially since we have a drive. But hey, they say that this is a "chinook", which in Albertaese means "weather that isn't cold enough to freeze your back end off." I guess we're close enough to Calgary to benefit somewhat. Although it was supposed to have been 18 degrees today in Calgary. Definitely wasn't that here. But hey, it's not snowing. That'll make the walk to school tomorrow a little bit more bearable.
Speaking of school, things are progressing rapidly, steadily, and in the order they're supposed to be going in, which is always comforting. I've been in this sort of la-la land over the course of this semester, knowing that I'm going to graduate in April, but not really wanting to believe it's going to actually happen. The fact is that my degree, like an unsightly mole, has been a part of who I am for several years now. I've learned to accept the fact that it's there, without ever really having come to terms with the fact that it wasn't finished. And every decision that we've made since we first got married has always had the "what about your degree?" element to it. It's strange to think that we won't have that dimension in a while.
It's actually really freeing, to be honest, but like a recently-released prisoner, I'm not sure what to do with that freedom. I feel the need to re-offend just to get back to the familiarity, even if it isn't healthy for me. What I really need, and I know Steph will agree wholeheartedly, is a break from having a school-related obligation. Yeah, I want my master's, but really, the pressure isn't on right now, or at least it shouldn't be.
I think that what I really need is a renewed sense of meaning. There's just something satisfying about being in the right place at the right time, and I haven't felt that in quite some time. In fact, I haven't felt it in so long that I'm beginning to accept the fact that I might never feel it again, and believe that this is the way it's always going to be. But that's not true. Like king Theoden in the Lord of the Rings, I've been trapped under some spell that's clouded who and what I really am, and it's time for it to stop. So here's to a quest for meaning.
Just as wrote that, I got a nosebleed. I wonder if that's a sign of some kind.
Changing the topic rapidly, and please, be careful not to get whiplash, we are so addicted to Grey's Anatomy that it's really sad. We live for our next fix. Every night, we ask "So, what do you have on tap for this evening?" hoping that the answer that comes from the other is, "I was thinking that we could watch some Grey's Anatomy." And every time we can't just watch one--we have to watch multiple episodes. It's crazy how good this show is.
But we're now at an impasse, a dilemma of sorts. We just watched episode 20 of 27 which, of course, means that we're running out of episodes a little too quickly. Part of me wants to draw it out as long as I can, because I know that once we've watched all of them, there's no more until season 3 comes out on DVD, which won't be until the summer. But they're just so good that what we really want to do is just sit down and watch them all in one sitting. A difficult decision, to be sure.
Maybe having houseguests will mean that our Grey's time is cut for a while, which, although it will make me go through withdrawl, will likely be good for us. No wait, it won't be. Gah! I don't know what to do. Don't worry, I'll keep you posted.
Okay, we're almost done changing topics. I'm serious. Anyway, what I was going to say is that my sermon went well today, thanks for asking. Is it possible to be proud of a sermon? If so, I am. If not, you didn't just read that. I felt really good about this one, and I think the class liked it too. Which is good, considering we peer evaluate. Which is, quite honestly, a bit of a joke, especially when you get the peer evaluations handed back to you with the marker's name on it. So who in their right mind would give their classmate a failing grade when they know that the classmate is going to evaluate them too? Unless they think that such thoughts of revenge are out of place at Bible College. Yeah, they're probably right. But still, it's the principle.
Anyway, I managed in one sermon to pull in references to both the Muppets and the X-Files, so I'm pretty pleased. And I think it was faithful to the text as well, which is also a good bonus. It's funny though, having to craft these sermons and deliver them to a class of people who are also in the sermon-crafting business. It sometimes feels like we're being evaluated on performance value, which we essentially are. Our evaluation sheets include things like "Intellectual Directness" and "Physical Presentation." What they're really short on is "Impact of Holy Spirit" and other sermonific things. Or are they homilific things? Anyway, it's just a little weird is all. One more to go, this one a 15-minute beast. I'm up in late November, so I've got a bit of time.
Okay, seriously, I'm done. Yes, I have more to say. But I need something to talk about later this week. The problem is that I've still got something on the back-burner here that I've wanted to talk about both yesterday and today, but have instead have let other things override it. Oh well, it'll keep.
Hope to see you all again tomorrow. Same time, same place, same bat-channel.
11.06.2006
Blogger Strike Ends, Dozens Rejoice...
Okay, so maybe "dozens" is generous. Maybe only three people rejoice. But hey, there's rejoicing to be had, that's for certain.
Sorry for my lack of posts recently. Haven't exactly had the easiest few days, just with some personal stuff going on, so blogging has been far from my mind. I think that anything I would have written would likely have been cynical and dumb anyway, so really, you didn't miss much.
But I'm back now, and things are fine, thank you. Still not 100%, but hey, it's a process, right? I've just been hit by the stunning realization that I really have no plan in life for the immediate future, and I have a family to support. I mean, I realize that I'm here finishing off my degree for a reason, and that it's supposed to be helpful. But I can't help but feel like there's just something I'm missing, you know? And I don't want to go through life with that feeling. So we're just sort of working through that whole issue, and trying to figure out what reality is going to look like come April. Well, I guess it'll be May by the time we get back. Anyway, the bottom line is that I have no idea what I'm going to be when I grow up, and I think I grew up a while ago while I wasn't paying attention. Kind of missed the boat on that one.
Oh well, onwards and upwards, as they say. You can't stop the flow of time, as much as I've tried, so you just go with it. And you know that somewhere, God's got a plan for you, because you hear it all the time and you really do believe it. You just maybe wish that He'd get on with it. Not that I'm trying to be blasphemous or anything, I'm just impatient. Which is probably exactly the reason I'm in this situation. Oh well.
In other news, had a good weekend. Used Saturday as a mostly snoozing and recouperating day, along with finally being able to see my Canucks play on Hockey Night. Sunday was church in the morning, and then an afternoon of CFL, which was just what the doctor ordered. A nice time was had.
And Theo's okay, by the way. In my last post, he had just had a table land on his head, and we weren't sure what was going to come of it. But the next day there was no bruising, not even a mark. He's built Ford tough, that one. But that's how we grow 'em here in Alberta.
I've decided that, in my old age, I'm going to be a little bit more adventerous, at least in the foods that I choose to eat. Tough transition, I know; sorry. As per my thoughts in the first section, I've begun to realize that life doesn't slow down for you, and you've got to just take it by the horns and wrestle it to the ground (they've been advertising for the rodeo in Edmonton, if you couldn't tell by my choice of metaphor). Thus, I have decided to step out on a limb.
The first sign on this new phenomenon came last week in Red Deer, when I actually had a tomato on my hamburger. Holy cow! Stop the presses! I had a tomato! Okay, I realize this isn't earth-shattering news on the surface, but if you know me, you know how stalwart my opposition to the tomato has been. In my opinion, if you can't decide if you're a fruit or a veggie, you don't deserve my time. That might even apply for people, although we probably shouldn't press our luck down that metaphorical path.
And you know what? It was pretty good. That's right, I said it was pretty good. Not great--let's not go all hog-wild here. But it was good. Later in the week, I had tomato on my pizza. No wait, that was the week before. Anyway, the point is that I ate some tomatoes, regardless of timeline. Sheesh.
So then I decided to really go all out and eat olives. I had a paradoxical Greek lasagne the other day at the local Greek restaurant (which, as far as I can tell, is also an Italian restaurant, deli, and hamburger joint, but I digress). Apparently all you have to do to make something Greek is add Feta and olives. Ta da!
So this lasagne had olives in it. And I ate them. No, not all of them, but most of them. And they weren't terrible. They weren't great, but they weren't terrible. I might try them again. But cautiously.
The last culinary straw came a couple days ago when Steph decided to make a curry chicken dish for dinner. You see, my wife is actually an Asian person trapped in a white person's body. It's really sad. Anyway, she likes the Indian, Vietnamese, Japanese, Chinese, and I'm sure many other Asian countries cuisine. But I don't. No, I'm a meat-and-potatoes, salt of the earth type of guy. Give me a steak and a baker any day. And don't skimp on the butter and sour cream. The more artery-clogging goodness, the better. Am I right?
But I decided to try it. And I liked it. It even had pineapple in it. That really completed the trifecta of foods I don't like: tomato, olives, pineapple. What's come over me? It must be the dry Alberta air.
Actuall, I'll tell you exactly what it is: I've decided that I don't want to be defined by what I don't eat. I don't want to be the guy who at a party has to say, "Hey, can you make sure that half of that pizza has no tomatoes?" Nor do I want to end up as the guy who piles up all the stuff he doesn't like on the side of his plate and discretely throws it away. I don't want to be the "no tomato" guy.
The point of all this is that I think that in life, we can really easily be defined by what we don't do instead of what we do. We can be known more for what we stand against than what we stand for. This is the sad trend in evangelical Christianity--we stand against this and that and the other thing, and yet nobody's really sure what we stand for. But that's something worth fighting for, even if tomatoes aren't.
I, for one, am not going to be defined by what I'm not.
Wow, first day back, and I get a sermon in there. Speaking of sermons, it's preaching day for me again tomorrow, so I'd better pack it in. Heck, I should have hit the sack an hour ago, but hey, I had some catching up to do. Anyway, thanks for coming by. Theo's blog got a major update tonight, so check it out as well when you're able.
See you tomorrow. As long as I don't stage a wildcat strike. Hey, has anybody seen my burn barrel?
Sorry for my lack of posts recently. Haven't exactly had the easiest few days, just with some personal stuff going on, so blogging has been far from my mind. I think that anything I would have written would likely have been cynical and dumb anyway, so really, you didn't miss much.
But I'm back now, and things are fine, thank you. Still not 100%, but hey, it's a process, right? I've just been hit by the stunning realization that I really have no plan in life for the immediate future, and I have a family to support. I mean, I realize that I'm here finishing off my degree for a reason, and that it's supposed to be helpful. But I can't help but feel like there's just something I'm missing, you know? And I don't want to go through life with that feeling. So we're just sort of working through that whole issue, and trying to figure out what reality is going to look like come April. Well, I guess it'll be May by the time we get back. Anyway, the bottom line is that I have no idea what I'm going to be when I grow up, and I think I grew up a while ago while I wasn't paying attention. Kind of missed the boat on that one.
Oh well, onwards and upwards, as they say. You can't stop the flow of time, as much as I've tried, so you just go with it. And you know that somewhere, God's got a plan for you, because you hear it all the time and you really do believe it. You just maybe wish that He'd get on with it. Not that I'm trying to be blasphemous or anything, I'm just impatient. Which is probably exactly the reason I'm in this situation. Oh well.
In other news, had a good weekend. Used Saturday as a mostly snoozing and recouperating day, along with finally being able to see my Canucks play on Hockey Night. Sunday was church in the morning, and then an afternoon of CFL, which was just what the doctor ordered. A nice time was had.
And Theo's okay, by the way. In my last post, he had just had a table land on his head, and we weren't sure what was going to come of it. But the next day there was no bruising, not even a mark. He's built Ford tough, that one. But that's how we grow 'em here in Alberta.
I've decided that, in my old age, I'm going to be a little bit more adventerous, at least in the foods that I choose to eat. Tough transition, I know; sorry. As per my thoughts in the first section, I've begun to realize that life doesn't slow down for you, and you've got to just take it by the horns and wrestle it to the ground (they've been advertising for the rodeo in Edmonton, if you couldn't tell by my choice of metaphor). Thus, I have decided to step out on a limb.
The first sign on this new phenomenon came last week in Red Deer, when I actually had a tomato on my hamburger. Holy cow! Stop the presses! I had a tomato! Okay, I realize this isn't earth-shattering news on the surface, but if you know me, you know how stalwart my opposition to the tomato has been. In my opinion, if you can't decide if you're a fruit or a veggie, you don't deserve my time. That might even apply for people, although we probably shouldn't press our luck down that metaphorical path.
And you know what? It was pretty good. That's right, I said it was pretty good. Not great--let's not go all hog-wild here. But it was good. Later in the week, I had tomato on my pizza. No wait, that was the week before. Anyway, the point is that I ate some tomatoes, regardless of timeline. Sheesh.
So then I decided to really go all out and eat olives. I had a paradoxical Greek lasagne the other day at the local Greek restaurant (which, as far as I can tell, is also an Italian restaurant, deli, and hamburger joint, but I digress). Apparently all you have to do to make something Greek is add Feta and olives. Ta da!
So this lasagne had olives in it. And I ate them. No, not all of them, but most of them. And they weren't terrible. They weren't great, but they weren't terrible. I might try them again. But cautiously.
The last culinary straw came a couple days ago when Steph decided to make a curry chicken dish for dinner. You see, my wife is actually an Asian person trapped in a white person's body. It's really sad. Anyway, she likes the Indian, Vietnamese, Japanese, Chinese, and I'm sure many other Asian countries cuisine. But I don't. No, I'm a meat-and-potatoes, salt of the earth type of guy. Give me a steak and a baker any day. And don't skimp on the butter and sour cream. The more artery-clogging goodness, the better. Am I right?
But I decided to try it. And I liked it. It even had pineapple in it. That really completed the trifecta of foods I don't like: tomato, olives, pineapple. What's come over me? It must be the dry Alberta air.
Actuall, I'll tell you exactly what it is: I've decided that I don't want to be defined by what I don't eat. I don't want to be the guy who at a party has to say, "Hey, can you make sure that half of that pizza has no tomatoes?" Nor do I want to end up as the guy who piles up all the stuff he doesn't like on the side of his plate and discretely throws it away. I don't want to be the "no tomato" guy.
The point of all this is that I think that in life, we can really easily be defined by what we don't do instead of what we do. We can be known more for what we stand against than what we stand for. This is the sad trend in evangelical Christianity--we stand against this and that and the other thing, and yet nobody's really sure what we stand for. But that's something worth fighting for, even if tomatoes aren't.
I, for one, am not going to be defined by what I'm not.
Wow, first day back, and I get a sermon in there. Speaking of sermons, it's preaching day for me again tomorrow, so I'd better pack it in. Heck, I should have hit the sack an hour ago, but hey, I had some catching up to do. Anyway, thanks for coming by. Theo's blog got a major update tonight, so check it out as well when you're able.
See you tomorrow. As long as I don't stage a wildcat strike. Hey, has anybody seen my burn barrel?
11.01.2006
They May Be Empty Calories, but Still...
The mission, you'll be pleased to know, was a success. As of today, November 1, the Carroll household is stocked to the gills with Halloween candy. The good stuff, too. None of this no-name garbage that we always used to sort through to get to the good stuff when we went out trick-or-treating. In fact, houses that gave out the bad candy were blacklisted, and all the kids went to the houses with the good candy. Word travelled fast on my block, and everyone knew within a short amount of time where the best investments were. For me, it was always the newer developments to the north--little business meant lots of available candy. It was really a simple matter of supply and demand. It's amazing how crafty we could be.
Of course, now some kid's probably got a MySpace page that maps out all the good candy places in Ladner. The kids have synched their PDA's to the live real-time maps of candy supply. Carefully orchestrated raids are planned, with groups fanning out to make sure that all ground is covered. Or maybe that's just what I'd do if I went trick-or-treating.
In a similar vien, it seems as though retailers are catching on to people like me who lurk in the shadows ready to pounce on unsold Halloween candy on November 1. When I went into IGA today, for example, the candy was only discounted by 25%. This raised a large dilemma for me. Do I wait until the candy gets marked down more, or do I buy now and spare potential heartache when everyone else settles for 25% off and there is no more candy to be discounted? It's really a big game of chicken: am I willing to wager candy on when the retailer will further discount the candy? Are there other people who are doing that, and if so, will they beat me to it? It really tore me up inside. My solution: get some now, and if they still want to discount it further at some point in the future (say, Friday), then buy more. Simple.
I'm not really sure whether this is true for all sectors of the candy retail market, or if it's simply a function of living in a small community where IGA's dominance of the grocery market goes virtually unchallenged. For example, if I was to go to Wal-Mart today, I probably could have gotten some really big discounts. Actually, I've tried that, and by noon on November 1, all the candy is gone. You have to be quick and wily if you're to cash in. So the tradeoff is that when I went at 2:30 there was still candy, but the candy was less deeply discounted. It's a fair trade, I say.
And although I know that chocolate is just empty calories, the things are so small that they can't possibly be bad for you, right? Besides, I went to the gym today; that has to be worth something, right? In fact, wife just came in and lamented that she's hungry. I said that I was too, but I had just satiated my hunger with two "fun size" Mars bars. She muttered something about how they're just empty calories, but then the sugar buzz hit and I couldn't hear her anymore. She'll likely choose something more sensible, but let me ask this: does it come in "fun size"? I think not.
Speaking of the gym, I actually weighed myself this morning, a task that I take no pleasure in, let me tell you. You'll be happy to know that all this exercise is actually starting to pay off--10 pounds gone so far, with the prospect of more to come. If I can just get off the candy. But everyone's got a guilty pleasure, right? I figure I'm not allowed to drink while I'm out here, so I have to get my empty calories from something besides alcohol, right? Not that I'm a "big" drinker. I'm more like a "steady" drinker. I prefer to consume maybe one or two drinks a night over a more extended period of time than pack them all together into one night.
Anyway, what I wanted to say was that since I've actually lost weight since we came out here, I can now safely say that I've left a part of me in Three Hills. Maw.
Had quite a scare today as well, and it had nothing to do with Halloween (or, in this case, the day after Halloween). This story will likely be repeated on Theo's blog next week, but here's a sneak peak for those of you who frequent both. As you likely know, Theo is quite the little mobile man now that he can crawl and stand up on his own. Anything in arm's reach becomes something to climb on, regardless of the stability of said thing. In our front room, we have a small wooden TV tray set up, one of the ones that folds down and stores away, but is made of some pretty solid wood. The problem is that since it's on folding legs, it's not very sturdy, especially when a baby grabs on and tries to pull himself up.
I'm sure you can guess what happened next, right? Crash it went, down on his head. Of course, the reaction was instant (which is good because it means he's got pain receptors that work. We were a little bit scared after last week that he didn't have properly functioning pain receptors, considering he didn't even cry when he cut his finger and started smearing blood on the door) and quite loud. There's one way to tell when Theo's really upset--he gets this cry that is nearly inconsolable and consists of heaving sobs. We've only heard it a few times, and it breaks our heart every time. Especially this time, when a goose egg the size of, well, a goose egg is welling up atop his head.
I wasn't home at the time of the incident, so Steph bundled the boy up in the car and came to find me in the gym at school. After, that is, she had consoled him and tried to bring the swelling down with cold cloths. Anyway, he seemed just fine to me when he got there, even had a smile or two for me, the guy on the treadmill, and his reflection, so we decided to keep an eye on him and see what happened before we took him to the hospital. I, for one, hate taking a baby to the hosptial with something not very specific like, "He bumped his head," because I know that the first question the doctor/nurse asks is, "Is this your first child?" That may seem like an innocent question, but what they're trying to do is figure out how seriously to take you. If you say yes, then they immediately write you off as paranoid because it's a tried and true medical fact that new mothers come to the hospital when their baby has a hangnail. Anyway, I knew they wouldn't take us seriously if we didn't have anything concrete to give them, so I told Steph to wait it out and see what happened.
Well, you'll be happy to know that thanks to Theo's massive Carroll head, there seems to be nothing amiss. He doesn't even have a goose egg on his head, just a small cut where the table hit and a small bump that will likely bruise in the morning. Other than that, everything's good. He's back to being his normal smiley self, eating well, and being cranky when he doesn't get his way. We'll keep an eye on it for another day, but I hope we're in the clear.
Now watch, I'll get comments galore telling me that I should've taken him to the hospital.
By the way, that paragraph about hospitals, although it came across harsh, isn't intended to be a slam against any of the good doctors or nurses who work at hospitals. I'm sensitive to this because there's a proud nursing tradition in my family, and all of my family members are excellent, caring nurses. So mom, Laura, and even Grandma (although she doesn't practice anymore), I know you're good at what you do. In fact, I wish you could be on duty at every hospital I go to. I'm simply stating a generalization which, although it may not be completely accurate, is true more often than not.
Okay, do you think that my butt is adequately covered? Let's move on.
In other news, had a reformation service today at school. I've figured it out--instead of celebrating Halloween, our school does a celebration of the reformation every year. As you may know, the Protestant Reformation was sparked by Martin Luther, who posted his 95 theses on the door of the Wittenburg Cathedral in Germany on All Hallow's Eve 1517. All in Protestantism mark this as the sacred day. Actually, none of us care. Except, apparently, for my school. Had one of our profs who grew up in the Reformed tradition design and lead the service (and he's Dutch, too, just to add to the stereotype). It was actually really good. I quite enjoy checking out traditions that are different from my own (which consisted, as I mentioned on Monday, of a guy at the front of the church waving his arms to direct the singing, and the pastor standing behind a massive pulpit that swallowed up his whole body so only his head was visible). I think that everyone in Christendom, and I include the Catholic Church in this, has something to contribute to the spiritual conversation, to use a thoroughly cliched postmodern term.
Anyway, this service had some hymn singing, led by a sextet, which was really cool. We even had a choir sing. We read from the various catechisms as well, which are also neat. Even though the language can be archaic (especially with nervous readers), it's interesting to see how thought was directed. The "sermon" was in three parts, which was also interesting, but it made it a little bit hard to follow his train of thought. All things considered, though, I thought it was really good. I actually wish we'd do more of that at chapel.
That'll be all for tonight, methinks. I have a test tomorrow for which my excitement and preparation levels are both low, which means it should be interesting. Not sure how I'll do, especially since this prof seems to like really obscure questions that don't as much test knowledge as they do an ability to memorize random sentences from the textbook. I went toe-to-toe with him after the last test, but I didn't come out on top (what a surprise--a prof who thinks he's right), so I'll hold my peace this time. 5% of my overall grade isn't worth getting on the prof's bad side over. As long as I pass, I'll be happy. Okay, that's not true, but it's what I'm telling myself to guard against crushing disappointment. No, that doesn't work either, but it's worth a try.
Anway, I should likely get some sleep. Theo managed to make it until just after 7:00 this morning, so I'm hoping for a repeat performance tomorrow. Still, it does come too soon if you go to bed at a bad time. Plus, I have to leave some time for the daily sudoku fix. Which means I need to pack it in right about now.
Thanks again for coming by. I'll see you back in this space tomorrow.
Of course, now some kid's probably got a MySpace page that maps out all the good candy places in Ladner. The kids have synched their PDA's to the live real-time maps of candy supply. Carefully orchestrated raids are planned, with groups fanning out to make sure that all ground is covered. Or maybe that's just what I'd do if I went trick-or-treating.
In a similar vien, it seems as though retailers are catching on to people like me who lurk in the shadows ready to pounce on unsold Halloween candy on November 1. When I went into IGA today, for example, the candy was only discounted by 25%. This raised a large dilemma for me. Do I wait until the candy gets marked down more, or do I buy now and spare potential heartache when everyone else settles for 25% off and there is no more candy to be discounted? It's really a big game of chicken: am I willing to wager candy on when the retailer will further discount the candy? Are there other people who are doing that, and if so, will they beat me to it? It really tore me up inside. My solution: get some now, and if they still want to discount it further at some point in the future (say, Friday), then buy more. Simple.
I'm not really sure whether this is true for all sectors of the candy retail market, or if it's simply a function of living in a small community where IGA's dominance of the grocery market goes virtually unchallenged. For example, if I was to go to Wal-Mart today, I probably could have gotten some really big discounts. Actually, I've tried that, and by noon on November 1, all the candy is gone. You have to be quick and wily if you're to cash in. So the tradeoff is that when I went at 2:30 there was still candy, but the candy was less deeply discounted. It's a fair trade, I say.
And although I know that chocolate is just empty calories, the things are so small that they can't possibly be bad for you, right? Besides, I went to the gym today; that has to be worth something, right? In fact, wife just came in and lamented that she's hungry. I said that I was too, but I had just satiated my hunger with two "fun size" Mars bars. She muttered something about how they're just empty calories, but then the sugar buzz hit and I couldn't hear her anymore. She'll likely choose something more sensible, but let me ask this: does it come in "fun size"? I think not.
Speaking of the gym, I actually weighed myself this morning, a task that I take no pleasure in, let me tell you. You'll be happy to know that all this exercise is actually starting to pay off--10 pounds gone so far, with the prospect of more to come. If I can just get off the candy. But everyone's got a guilty pleasure, right? I figure I'm not allowed to drink while I'm out here, so I have to get my empty calories from something besides alcohol, right? Not that I'm a "big" drinker. I'm more like a "steady" drinker. I prefer to consume maybe one or two drinks a night over a more extended period of time than pack them all together into one night.
Anyway, what I wanted to say was that since I've actually lost weight since we came out here, I can now safely say that I've left a part of me in Three Hills. Maw.
Had quite a scare today as well, and it had nothing to do with Halloween (or, in this case, the day after Halloween). This story will likely be repeated on Theo's blog next week, but here's a sneak peak for those of you who frequent both. As you likely know, Theo is quite the little mobile man now that he can crawl and stand up on his own. Anything in arm's reach becomes something to climb on, regardless of the stability of said thing. In our front room, we have a small wooden TV tray set up, one of the ones that folds down and stores away, but is made of some pretty solid wood. The problem is that since it's on folding legs, it's not very sturdy, especially when a baby grabs on and tries to pull himself up.
I'm sure you can guess what happened next, right? Crash it went, down on his head. Of course, the reaction was instant (which is good because it means he's got pain receptors that work. We were a little bit scared after last week that he didn't have properly functioning pain receptors, considering he didn't even cry when he cut his finger and started smearing blood on the door) and quite loud. There's one way to tell when Theo's really upset--he gets this cry that is nearly inconsolable and consists of heaving sobs. We've only heard it a few times, and it breaks our heart every time. Especially this time, when a goose egg the size of, well, a goose egg is welling up atop his head.
I wasn't home at the time of the incident, so Steph bundled the boy up in the car and came to find me in the gym at school. After, that is, she had consoled him and tried to bring the swelling down with cold cloths. Anyway, he seemed just fine to me when he got there, even had a smile or two for me, the guy on the treadmill, and his reflection, so we decided to keep an eye on him and see what happened before we took him to the hospital. I, for one, hate taking a baby to the hosptial with something not very specific like, "He bumped his head," because I know that the first question the doctor/nurse asks is, "Is this your first child?" That may seem like an innocent question, but what they're trying to do is figure out how seriously to take you. If you say yes, then they immediately write you off as paranoid because it's a tried and true medical fact that new mothers come to the hospital when their baby has a hangnail. Anyway, I knew they wouldn't take us seriously if we didn't have anything concrete to give them, so I told Steph to wait it out and see what happened.
Well, you'll be happy to know that thanks to Theo's massive Carroll head, there seems to be nothing amiss. He doesn't even have a goose egg on his head, just a small cut where the table hit and a small bump that will likely bruise in the morning. Other than that, everything's good. He's back to being his normal smiley self, eating well, and being cranky when he doesn't get his way. We'll keep an eye on it for another day, but I hope we're in the clear.
Now watch, I'll get comments galore telling me that I should've taken him to the hospital.
By the way, that paragraph about hospitals, although it came across harsh, isn't intended to be a slam against any of the good doctors or nurses who work at hospitals. I'm sensitive to this because there's a proud nursing tradition in my family, and all of my family members are excellent, caring nurses. So mom, Laura, and even Grandma (although she doesn't practice anymore), I know you're good at what you do. In fact, I wish you could be on duty at every hospital I go to. I'm simply stating a generalization which, although it may not be completely accurate, is true more often than not.
Okay, do you think that my butt is adequately covered? Let's move on.
In other news, had a reformation service today at school. I've figured it out--instead of celebrating Halloween, our school does a celebration of the reformation every year. As you may know, the Protestant Reformation was sparked by Martin Luther, who posted his 95 theses on the door of the Wittenburg Cathedral in Germany on All Hallow's Eve 1517. All in Protestantism mark this as the sacred day. Actually, none of us care. Except, apparently, for my school. Had one of our profs who grew up in the Reformed tradition design and lead the service (and he's Dutch, too, just to add to the stereotype). It was actually really good. I quite enjoy checking out traditions that are different from my own (which consisted, as I mentioned on Monday, of a guy at the front of the church waving his arms to direct the singing, and the pastor standing behind a massive pulpit that swallowed up his whole body so only his head was visible). I think that everyone in Christendom, and I include the Catholic Church in this, has something to contribute to the spiritual conversation, to use a thoroughly cliched postmodern term.
Anyway, this service had some hymn singing, led by a sextet, which was really cool. We even had a choir sing. We read from the various catechisms as well, which are also neat. Even though the language can be archaic (especially with nervous readers), it's interesting to see how thought was directed. The "sermon" was in three parts, which was also interesting, but it made it a little bit hard to follow his train of thought. All things considered, though, I thought it was really good. I actually wish we'd do more of that at chapel.
That'll be all for tonight, methinks. I have a test tomorrow for which my excitement and preparation levels are both low, which means it should be interesting. Not sure how I'll do, especially since this prof seems to like really obscure questions that don't as much test knowledge as they do an ability to memorize random sentences from the textbook. I went toe-to-toe with him after the last test, but I didn't come out on top (what a surprise--a prof who thinks he's right), so I'll hold my peace this time. 5% of my overall grade isn't worth getting on the prof's bad side over. As long as I pass, I'll be happy. Okay, that's not true, but it's what I'm telling myself to guard against crushing disappointment. No, that doesn't work either, but it's worth a try.
Anway, I should likely get some sleep. Theo managed to make it until just after 7:00 this morning, so I'm hoping for a repeat performance tomorrow. Still, it does come too soon if you go to bed at a bad time. Plus, I have to leave some time for the daily sudoku fix. Which means I need to pack it in right about now.
Thanks again for coming by. I'll see you back in this space tomorrow.
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