Seasons come, seasons go.

It's an amazing night, isn't it? It was starting to get muggy inside but then I threw open the windows and back porch door and now it's almost chilly. New seasons. New seasons are good.

The farm is gone. The deed changed hands a few weeks ago. I went up the weekend before to hang out and attempt to help mom and dad clean it up a little and decide which memorabilia I wanted to take away with me: a couple of pictures from the bathroom, Pop Pop's Exacto knife set, Mamoo's dishes that I associate with the holidays we shared at her house, an antique heating pad, some cutlery.... I found out that weekend, too, that another season's also ending - mom and dad are converting Josh's and my old bedrooms into a suite where Amy, my future sister-in-law, will stay for a few months before the wedding. Meaning that, in a way, I won't ever be able to go home again. Not to the room I grew up in.

We need that sometimes, y'know? To be forcibly brought to the end of a season we'd never have ended of our own accord. Like the growing up that occurs when you realize your parents aren't as perfect as you thought and which makes you into a better adult in the process. Like losing a job because you'd never have left your comfort zone if you didn't have to. Like a lover who pushes you away because you couldn't cut ties on a "good" relationship that always left you both unsatisfied.

I get this feeling sometimes. Like I'm on the edge of something big. Personal breakthrough, huge life adjustment... something. I've certainly been thinking better this past week, at any rate. That's been nice. I'd forgotten how good it can feel to have an active, living brain! Let's see if I can remember this time. Let's see if I'll let it carry me through to the next season....

secrets

I was at the most beautiful wedding I've ever been to this past weekend... and I was only invited to the reception, lol. The best man quoted the poet Rilke - "I would be with those who know secrets... or else alone." That struck so far home with me I was nearly winded. I posted on Facebook, "I would be with those who set my heart and soul on fire... or else alone. For I can tend my own fire if I must, but who can revive a flame once doused?"

You might think I'm talking about Christians versus non-Christians... but you'd be wrong.

I wandered around the grounds of the wedding site half expecting a fairy to flitter out of the brush. It was so beautiful, so magical. There was a peace, a love, a joy in the air that overwhelmed you when you stepped on the property and lingered after you left. It was just GOOD. The whole thing was just so GOOD.

And due to the convictions of those married, none of the proceedings had anything to do with a love for God, or even a belief that He exists. Because they don't.

There are those who have secrets. Who understand freedom. Who have love and joy and peace in abundance. Who revel in their ability to think. People with depth. Who are not shackled by tradition and expectations and hypocrisy and duties and habit. Who have learned how to live. Really LIVE. And I HAVE to believe that some of them might be fellow Christians. There MUST be some out there who can fan my flame rather than watch it grow cold by heaping bonds upon it.

But even if you know secrets, you cannot share them. No one can come to know them who hasn't first found his own way. And to describe them, you sound like a mysticist or else just plain stupid - your listeners would reject, commit, or excommunicate you.

My thoughts are scattered tonight. I just spent less than three hours with one such fellow Christian who can fan the flame - an old friend who can usually only spare a couple hours every couple of months - and I would liken it to the first fresh breath after months of living in dank, undersized confinement, only to be placed back under lock and key when you part ways. My captor? The rain that falls on my embers? "Fellowship." I feel suffocated, starved for fellowship of the other kind. The kind that sets me on fire. The kind that looks for truth in inconvenient places and passionately loves the world and all who live in it. The kind that looks in awe at the expanse of a mountain range and the complexity of a blade of grass, who loves those who worship a God greater than they but call Him by a different name, who pursues wisdom like the very air we breathe.

God, don't make me fight alone forever....

"Well, I NEVER! The NERVE of some people!"

You won't ever hear me say that, by the way. At least not unless it's in jest. I'll tell you why.

People are rude, in my opinion, for one of three reasons.

1. They're malicious.
2. They're distracted.
3. They're ignorant.

So here's a scenario - you're having a party and invite Joe, Mark, and Steve.

Joe is rude type number one - you asked him for an RSVP and he didn't give you one just so he could crash the party and try to throw your plans off. He was just being malicious. It can't be helped. He's going to be that way, so just don't let it get YOU down.

Mark is rude type number two - he didn't take his shoes off at the door. And you're Japanese and keep a Japanese home, where it is VERY rude not to remove one's shoes. Didn't he notice all the shoes by the door?? Well, no. He didn't notice. He was distracted because he'd had a really rough day and forgot you'd mentioned it to everyone in the invitation. It can't be helped. It wasn't intentional - it was an accident.

Steve is rude type number three - he didn't bring you a present. It's your birthday party for crying out loud. Why didn't he bring a present?? Oh. Someone gave him a verbal invite and didn't mention that it was a birthday party. He didn't know he was supposed to have a gift. It can't be helped. He simply couldn't have known he was being rude until it was too late and when he realized the blunder, he was too embarrassed to say anything and just hoped you wouldn't notice.

So here's what I'm getting at. We human beings get SO worked up over people we label as "rude." We take it so personally when we get cut off in traffic (he's either mean, in a hurry, or didn't see you) or when our neighbor doesn't offer to bring a dish to dinner (she didn't want to be there, she didn't have time to prepare anything, or she thought if you'd needed help with the meal, you'd have asked) or... choose a scenario. And then we go and complain about these people, using grand gesticulations and scoffing and saying "I was SO offended. I couldn't believe she'd DO that to me!" But for what? It can't be helped. It's either intentional and the person WILL be that way whether you approve or not... or it was not intentional and was not meant to be taken personally and you need to grant a little grace. Sometimes it's as simple as the fact that what some people think is rude is nothing at all to others - it's a cultural thing.

And so I am approached with such complaints and I don't know what to say. The person obviously thinks they're in the right, to judge this person for their poor manners. But they're only making themselves miserable... and me too, for having to listen. But they probably don't want to hear that THEY are also being unreasonable and it's likely they don't even want any suggestions or problem solving tactics - they just want to vent. So here's my question: what's a non-rude way of saying the following:

"I really do like you, but I couldn't possibly care less about what you're saying and it's really getting me down. Can't you please just stop talking for two minutes together??"

Think.

"Are you into philosophy?"
"No... actually, I'm a Christian."

Epic. Fail.

(true story, too. conversation I had with a classmate this week.)

But that's the mentality a lot of people have, isn't it? Many of the fathers of philosophy were not Christians; they neither tested their ideas through the lens of Scripture, nor did they present their ideas from a Christian view. So obviously they've gotta be full of crap and we should STAAAY AWAAAY!

I looked up the word in the online Webster Dictionary. A few highlights?

• All learning
• Pursuit of wisdom
• A search for a general understanding of values and reality
• Ethics

We're in Proverbs in the Bible Reading Plan this month and it's made me especially aware of just how much God sincerely wants us to pursue learning, wisdom, and understanding. Over. And over. And over again- Solomon implores the reader to seek these things like great treasures. When did we become so deceived as to think that it would be sufficient to have truth spoon-fed to us with no effort on our parts?

One of the joys (as I was discussing with a friend several weeks ago) of being a Christian philosopher is that you don't have to be afraid to study the great works in the field. These men, God fearing or not, were looking for truth in life. For wisdom. And you do have to wade through some things you won't agree with (since when has that ever NOT been true of MOST texts?), but if it's truth, it will always be true, no matter how it's arrived at. So you're reading along, considering, learning, gaining new facets on ideas you'd held before and all of a sudden the Father of wisdom jumps off the page at you and yells, "SURPRISE!" And you're like, "God, what were You doing in a book written by someone who didn't believe in You?"

And that's just it. That's what I go hunting for. In addition to the simple pleasure of learning, you find these nuggets of truth about God's character in some of the most unlikely places... and they're often the most beautiful.

I've done the spoon-feeding thing. Just sit back, coast, you catch on pretty quickly where the Christianese catch phrases are supposed to go in your conversations so you can use them without even having a good concept of their meaning.... All you've learned is how to cheat the system, which is worse than learning nothing at all. But
God's a big guy; He can hold His own in an argument. Try Him, question the things you once thoughtlessly agreed to believe - I do so on a regular basis and He never disappoints. You never know where a little brain power will take you....

"Honey from the comb is sweet to your taste; know that wisdom is thus for your soul." Pr. 24

sour notes

When someone teaches you to sing, there are a lot of things to keep in mind. Sit up straight. Allow air to fill your diaphragm. Support the sound. Drop your jaw. Don't spread the sides of your mouth when you sing "meee." But like all training, when it's not explained properly, attempts to follow good advice can still produce bad results. Like that whole diaphragm thing. What do they MEAN by that anyway? If you've never had it explained, it means nothing to you. "Sing louder!" they say. Simple enough, if you want us to lose our voices over the next hour or two. Even the concept of matching your sound with the rest of the group can be problematic. For example. (I'm gonna try and bring you to my point, I swear) When I sing along with Wicked, if I match their vocal quality, which of course has been painted over with the personality of the character the singers are playing, I necessarily put strain on my voice because that's not the way I sound when I sing naturally. It's also nearly impossible not to sing loudly when you're singing songs from Wicked, and I'm not loud when I sing naturally. Idina Menzel and Kristin Chenowith are FABULOUS singers. I want to be a fabulous singer. Why can't I sing like them? Well, actually, I CAN, but not for very long. My voice gives out. Somewhere in the process of matching style and volume, the music moves from the comfortable places in my mouth and throat to very uncomfortable places. So am I a bad singer? No, I'm not. Could I ever play the part of Elphaba? It might be that I never could. Not because I can't sing but because that character needs to be sung by someone with a voice that sounds different from mine. Here's my point. There are a lot of things I wish I could do. Singing like Idina Menzel would be one of them, to be honest. But I also wish I was more confident. I wish I had more defined goals in life. I wish I was smarter. I wish I was quicker to process ideas and conversations. I wish I learned job skills faster. I wish I didn't get so distracted and lazy. I wish I was more motivated. I wish I didn't think about what I wish all the time. I see these things in people I like, people I look up to, people I think are worthy of imitation. And I look at myself and feel like a hopeless wreck that no one will ever want to hire, date, or get beyond the protective walls around my heart... because I fail so miserably at all of these things. They'll see me... and go and find someone else who's got those things in line already. But I can sing. I have a very nice voice. It goes into uncontrollable spasms when I try to sing solo in any sort of formal setting, and it's not very loud, but it's actually very pretty in its own way. When I try to sing more like Imogen than Idina, I do all right. I have a mental block when it comes to accepting myself the way I am. As I said not too long ago, "approving" myself. I see all my failures and I feel like I have to make up for them... but all I end up doing is making up a solution that seems to me barely more substantial than plastic wrap - you can see right through it. And the longer I try to keep it up, the hoarser I become. So rather than crack, I claim I've sung enough for one night... and retreat to heal. I push people away, reminding myself I obviously don't have this lesson down yet, so I must hold them at bay again until I've got it. I see the sort of girl who's caught the eye of the sort of guy I'm looking for... and I'm nothing like her. Can't be like her even when I try. I see the sort of secretary that the bosses like to see in their office... and I'm nothing like her. Can't be like her even when I try. It'd be a brittle shell, a make-up job done by a five year old. But maybe I'm not supposed to be like her. There's no reason not to try to mature and grow into some of those things the right way, but I am what I am now, and I can't do anything about that with short notice... and shelling and making-up only puts off the real work, delaying any real results. I need to learn to be okay with Jessica, August 30, 2009. Lots of people love her just the way she is; love her voice just the way it is. I'm not good at everything and I can't play every roll or get every guy or do well at every job... but I am good at things in my own way, and I forget that people love me the way I am anyway. And besides that, even when I'm rejected and fired and forgotten, even when all those people judge me with good reason... God picked me when He knew what I'd be like today, 10 years ago, 30 years from now. He thought I was worth saving. I'd do well not to argue with Him.