Over the last few days I have seen significant changes due to one small thing. In fact this blog is the result of such reflections. I haven’t written in a while and the volumes of stories is just overwhelming my brain. Therefore, I can’t help but write about several moments and musings from the week. This is the 3 for 1 special.
Tipping Points are on my mind. In the past I’ve written about the little things. The simple moments that make all the difference. Malcolm Gladwell describes such moments and people in a informative, concise way with both the attractiveness of a fun purse and the serious, hard-core validity of a cure for cancer. Tipping Points: How Little Things Can Make a Big Difference uncovers how the smallest percentage can create a social epidemic similar to that of a flu epidemic. The most humble ideas can come to pass with the smallest of efforts by the right people in the right way.
Yesterday the kids planned to sing the National Anthem at the beginning of a local high school football game at private school and then again during half-time. Along with the performances were a few scheduled interactions with the sixth grade class over pizza dinner and their new friends during the game as they watched together. The kids made their way down to the field through a tunnel of students and parents alike. After enamoring the crowd with their A Capella rendition of the Star Spangled Banner, they went to their seats to cheer on the home team. Well, two touch-downs into the game and six minutes, lightning struck in the distance. The big brawny boys took cover inside as the rules require, and the rest of us were left to wait it out. A few moments go by as people guessed what the clouds would do while the kids scramble from auntie to uncle to know what will happen next. Thankfully all the scuttling subsided when the kids went to doing what they do best. Being kids. They ran around, threw balls to each other and involved their new Big friends in simple games. The pause in the game became the highlight for the kids as the students took to them with all the enthusiasm of new camp counselors. Simon Says. New songs. Hand Clap Game “Down by the Banks.”
Could the kids really be that cute to move high school students from teenage obsessions or insecurities to play with little ones they’ve never met before? Certainly but with a combination of excited students, green grass, and bright lights in an otherwise dark place the night, three kids would have been enough to tip the scales to that of utter fun and freedom. I thought the stoppage couldn’t have been a better unplanned marketing scheme to find student volunteers because they interacted with the people they were being coaxed to help in the future. Face time and the real deal inspires many to seek more.
Saturday, August 30, 2008
hair products
Thursday brought us home from a week on tour. I appreciate each part of my life for various reasons but somehow I look forward to the other just as it comes up on the calendar. Lucky me… This reality however did not necessarily bring me to my feet, jumping with joy. Humidity.
The New England area was so pleasant this time of year. The evening concert we had on Cape Cod allowed me to dance my way to climate control. The evening air was a touch chilly but really only in comparison to say 87 degrees and 87% humidity. People enjoyed the concert wrapped in their light sweaters, but I don’t recall hearing anyone their toes were turning blue. It was lovely. So it was the small change in degrees and increase in dew point that really hit me in an instant. Well, more like a 16 hour, 800 mile instant as we made our way back to NC. But sure as we pulled up to the house, my hair took on it’s on personality, curling every which way but mostly straight out from my head. The little things that I miss.
Really, the South is a natural hair product. I wish I could bottle it for times I’m in windy WY. Alas, I’ll deal with a subtle change of 30 mph winds work itself out. Really this too should be bottled…for those times I model hurricane-appropriate scarves?
The New England area was so pleasant this time of year. The evening concert we had on Cape Cod allowed me to dance my way to climate control. The evening air was a touch chilly but really only in comparison to say 87 degrees and 87% humidity. People enjoyed the concert wrapped in their light sweaters, but I don’t recall hearing anyone their toes were turning blue. It was lovely. So it was the small change in degrees and increase in dew point that really hit me in an instant. Well, more like a 16 hour, 800 mile instant as we made our way back to NC. But sure as we pulled up to the house, my hair took on it’s on personality, curling every which way but mostly straight out from my head. The little things that I miss.
Really, the South is a natural hair product. I wish I could bottle it for times I’m in windy WY. Alas, I’ll deal with a subtle change of 30 mph winds work itself out. Really this too should be bottled…for those times I model hurricane-appropriate scarves?
the word to making history
I received an email with the verse from Nehemiah 6:11. “Can you imagine the thrill of working with people you love serving the God of heaven and making history?” From this quote came a desire to read the whole book. From that came a basket full of thoughtful fruits that is flooding my journal. From this came a devotional moment I shared with the kids about the passions God has given them. From that who knows!? God has great plans for us and the kids are fully aware of this fact. And yet it is hard for them to really see their dreams of being a doctor or pilot come true. So what can they do but work hard each day and pray. Pray for their exams next week. Their professors in college. Their future employers. And the favor of all the people in these stations of life. These kids can make history together as a choir and also with their brothers and sisters back in Africa. It might sound canned, but our African chaperon always tells the audience that he believes a future leader of Uganda can come out of these kids. And WHY NOT? It’s totally possible.
What will be the tipping point in their lives? This year in the states drastically swung the scales as the rest of their education in Africa is guaranteed. And they have an extra family of peers and aunties and uncles looking after them. They won the lottery in a sense. Does that mean they have to find a cure for AIDS or erase poverty in the country? No, their efforts can be modest and still impact many lives. And yet I don’t doubt that a small tipping point and pieces of inspiration will allow this group to find much favor and make history.
What will be the tipping point in their lives? This year in the states drastically swung the scales as the rest of their education in Africa is guaranteed. And they have an extra family of peers and aunties and uncles looking after them. They won the lottery in a sense. Does that mean they have to find a cure for AIDS or erase poverty in the country? No, their efforts can be modest and still impact many lives. And yet I don’t doubt that a small tipping point and pieces of inspiration will allow this group to find much favor and make history.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
< 25 words
Today I read Matilda to the kids. The book reminded me again of how much I love Roald Dahl and his characters. I love reading about the twitting and tantalizing details of their lives. And yet, his literature makes it difficult to explain all these things that happen to the kids. Some of the vocabulary is hard to explain with less than 25 words.
The kids find it very funny when I dance. As I have mentioned in blogs past, I dance at most every event but especially meal times. Well, following lunch I had an opportunity to dance around with some of the young ones. I went all out, exaggerating my arms, facial expressions and hips. Giggles and laughter filled the tent where the night’s concert would be held. Thankfully, they mimicked my moves. They coaxed me to do penguin dances and fainting over and over which all received the same amused laughter and cheers. Somehow, words are unnecessary to communicate pure pleasure and jolly dispositions. In fact, I’d rather hear the young giggles versus hearing how they feel in less than 25 words.
I hope I learn to use the appropriate words for the right time. I hope I realize the situation where I should use laughter to express myself. I hope I remember the important things I need to say can be done in less than 25 words: I wish you well. Jesus loves you. Peace and blessings to you. Stay well. I love you, Mom, Dad, Brother, Sister, Aunties, Uncles, Grandparents, Friends. 25. whew!
The kids find it very funny when I dance. As I have mentioned in blogs past, I dance at most every event but especially meal times. Well, following lunch I had an opportunity to dance around with some of the young ones. I went all out, exaggerating my arms, facial expressions and hips. Giggles and laughter filled the tent where the night’s concert would be held. Thankfully, they mimicked my moves. They coaxed me to do penguin dances and fainting over and over which all received the same amused laughter and cheers. Somehow, words are unnecessary to communicate pure pleasure and jolly dispositions. In fact, I’d rather hear the young giggles versus hearing how they feel in less than 25 words.
I hope I learn to use the appropriate words for the right time. I hope I realize the situation where I should use laughter to express myself. I hope I remember the important things I need to say can be done in less than 25 words: I wish you well. Jesus loves you. Peace and blessings to you. Stay well. I love you, Mom, Dad, Brother, Sister, Aunties, Uncles, Grandparents, Friends. 25. whew!
Monday, August 25, 2008
hole-in-the-wall
The joys of the city came to an end last night as I headed back to my temporary home. After yet another fantastic eating experience with a New York friend, it was time to send her home to Long Island. We finished the night at a great hole-in-the-wall restaurant called Rick’s Pizza.
Over the last year of touring such a phrase is sort of redundant as most seedy, holes-in-the-wall are nothing but fabulous. The food rocks and comes in large portions, the service is friendly and efficient, and the atmosphere gives me exciting material for writing. Take for instance Rick’s- it’s a small place where the kitchen and dining room meet. The servers have very little ground to cover, and if a customer wanted to sing praises or shouts obscenities, the server wouldn’t have to be the middle man- just get out of the way. The tables had random newspaper articles laid under heavy glass and the booth seats were well-loved in the sense that they were comfy and not stiff rather than the “well-loved” torn plastic types you see in some places.
Then there came the menu/short novel full of any late night desire one could image. Fruit, any slice of Pizza on earth, Baklava, Mac ‘N Cheese, Jell-o, hamburgers topped with guacamole, omelets, and hot chocolate. I could eat a meal there everyday for the next year and still not have covered all the options. I can’t pinpoint whether the fact that all the foods had a bit of comfort in them or that there was novelty in the random assortment of menu items but I felt right at home and enjoying the whole experience. After another meal there, I might have considered the chefs my brothers.
A great deal can be said about the importance of sharing meals with friends, but much can also be said about the atmosphere of the place you come for food. I would rather eat at home most everyday: it has a pleasant atmosphere, endless glasses of water without waiting, and food that I love. However going to a restaurant is good fun too: it provides food I wouldn’t/couldn’t cook at home, interesting people to observe, and no dirty dishes for me to clean. Regardless of venues, both can create the best place for conversation, deep thoughts, and genuine delight. Food does that to me- gives me delight. So I am happy to share that delight with others especially if the chefs can see me dancing for their spectacular dishes.
Some cultures find joy is sharing meal TIME much easier than most Americans. All of the aspects of a meal hold significance so when one finds the perfect place to facilitate that experience, goodness is found, even if in its in the holes of walls.
Over the last year of touring such a phrase is sort of redundant as most seedy, holes-in-the-wall are nothing but fabulous. The food rocks and comes in large portions, the service is friendly and efficient, and the atmosphere gives me exciting material for writing. Take for instance Rick’s- it’s a small place where the kitchen and dining room meet. The servers have very little ground to cover, and if a customer wanted to sing praises or shouts obscenities, the server wouldn’t have to be the middle man- just get out of the way. The tables had random newspaper articles laid under heavy glass and the booth seats were well-loved in the sense that they were comfy and not stiff rather than the “well-loved” torn plastic types you see in some places.
Then there came the menu/short novel full of any late night desire one could image. Fruit, any slice of Pizza on earth, Baklava, Mac ‘N Cheese, Jell-o, hamburgers topped with guacamole, omelets, and hot chocolate. I could eat a meal there everyday for the next year and still not have covered all the options. I can’t pinpoint whether the fact that all the foods had a bit of comfort in them or that there was novelty in the random assortment of menu items but I felt right at home and enjoying the whole experience. After another meal there, I might have considered the chefs my brothers.
A great deal can be said about the importance of sharing meals with friends, but much can also be said about the atmosphere of the place you come for food. I would rather eat at home most everyday: it has a pleasant atmosphere, endless glasses of water without waiting, and food that I love. However going to a restaurant is good fun too: it provides food I wouldn’t/couldn’t cook at home, interesting people to observe, and no dirty dishes for me to clean. Regardless of venues, both can create the best place for conversation, deep thoughts, and genuine delight. Food does that to me- gives me delight. So I am happy to share that delight with others especially if the chefs can see me dancing for their spectacular dishes.
Some cultures find joy is sharing meal TIME much easier than most Americans. All of the aspects of a meal hold significance so when one finds the perfect place to facilitate that experience, goodness is found, even if in its in the holes of walls.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
what's next?
There is so much anticipation in the air. We’re heading to NYC tomorrow- driving the bus the whole way in a day. I’m actually looking forward to it, though every seat will be taken. I’ll be helping some kids with English but also writing, reading and thinking.
And then I can’t wait to see my friend Jessica who is the associate sound designer for the new Off-Broadway show Fela! It’s been quite the process, and I was lucky enough to hear all about it as the rehearsals took shape. Not only do I get to see Jess, but I get to see the show which has some incredible dancing and Afrobeat music. So tight.
While I’m in the city I’ll also try to stop at the Bald Man’s for some chocolate.This place is now a small addiction I have. Fortunately enough I visit NYC once a year and not more frequently. Otherwise, I would be a spokesperson for the restaurant and get stock options just to have an excuse to pop in the store every week.
The city brings about a certain thrill which will be fun to have coursing through my veins. Of course, several things bring that on these days like the Olympics, the tasty dinners and new recipes we’ve tried this week and upcoming projects with the choir. Plus, the forthcoming theatre tour just gets me juiced up every time I think about the costumes, puppets, travel, post-show-ice-cream-debriefing, and the overall production. I can’t wait to see the kids at their prime in this show.
We often go through life thinking about what’s to come. That’s definitely a cultural thing as we live in a society that is pretty certain that not only will tomorrow come but a 10-year plan is necessary to properly live today for the future. One thing that brings me back from my daydreams are prayers from the kids thanking God for keeping them alive yet one more day.
It is good to have plans. God does and even tells us they are to prosper us. It's great to have anticipation for what’s ahead.
All of these are best used when we think about how we can use that energy for today. I have been pondering my current position and place quite a bit, not out of distaste but out of a desire to make the most of it. How can I be present in the present and capture all the lessons and experience for future endeavors? How can the investments I make in the children, the team, the organization bear fruit in the immediate or even distant future? These questions add as much value to my future plans as the question: What is next on the agenda?
And then I can’t wait to see my friend Jessica who is the associate sound designer for the new Off-Broadway show Fela! It’s been quite the process, and I was lucky enough to hear all about it as the rehearsals took shape. Not only do I get to see Jess, but I get to see the show which has some incredible dancing and Afrobeat music. So tight.
While I’m in the city I’ll also try to stop at the Bald Man’s for some chocolate.This place is now a small addiction I have. Fortunately enough I visit NYC once a year and not more frequently. Otherwise, I would be a spokesperson for the restaurant and get stock options just to have an excuse to pop in the store every week.
The city brings about a certain thrill which will be fun to have coursing through my veins. Of course, several things bring that on these days like the Olympics, the tasty dinners and new recipes we’ve tried this week and upcoming projects with the choir. Plus, the forthcoming theatre tour just gets me juiced up every time I think about the costumes, puppets, travel, post-show-ice-cream-debriefing, and the overall production. I can’t wait to see the kids at their prime in this show.
We often go through life thinking about what’s to come. That’s definitely a cultural thing as we live in a society that is pretty certain that not only will tomorrow come but a 10-year plan is necessary to properly live today for the future. One thing that brings me back from my daydreams are prayers from the kids thanking God for keeping them alive yet one more day.
It is good to have plans. God does and even tells us they are to prosper us. It's great to have anticipation for what’s ahead.
All of these are best used when we think about how we can use that energy for today. I have been pondering my current position and place quite a bit, not out of distaste but out of a desire to make the most of it. How can I be present in the present and capture all the lessons and experience for future endeavors? How can the investments I make in the children, the team, the organization bear fruit in the immediate or even distant future? These questions add as much value to my future plans as the question: What is next on the agenda?
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
presence
Presence is an important reality that many of us take for granted.
I’ve been living vicariously through a friend who has been house sitting/dog sitting. I often did that in my normal life. (PS-good tour preparation) I smile at the fact that houses need to be sat. I’m sure they get lonely. I remember the day I returned from my Christmas holiday to find my house at school the same temperature as a walk in freezer. The heater had broken- a sure sign of the house’s disgruntlement from our extended absence. But I digress.
Apart from the obvious and intensely important reasons one should “house” sit, dog sitting ranks up there in worthwhile activities as say visiting old folks homes and playing the flute for church. These experiences are meant to take you out of yourself and appreciate other’s needs and well being. And to a dog-sat dog, presence is all that matters. “Presence” can turn into petting, hopefully feeding and watering, and maybe even walking. Pets usually respond to people and feel a great deal of impact when the human is gone. That’s why dogs run to a newly-arrived guest or mom as she walks in the door from work. They want the attention, the company that doesn’t require anything but one’s existence.
I had a reminder of this simple idea as I came home from grocery shopping the other day. Though it didn’t take too long, the kids seemed to think I was gone for an eternity. On top of it, they weren’t just happy to see me and say hello, but they wanted me to hug and pet and hold them and tell them stories.
Sometimes in life our presence is our job. That’s the purpose for the season, and even in the midst of doing other things, being “here” matters to the people around you, especially to the small people. They hold dear to the time spent as if I had deposited a handful of money into their pocket. A wise teacher once said to me that how we spend our time determines our priorities. Therefore, if we are willing to spend our time being present to a friend at coffee, sister over the phone, child on the swing, God in the quiet, we are setting a precedent of importance and value. It can and should be intentional, but even when it’s not, the committed presence impacts that life.
That’s how God did it. He decided to be present with his people. Not just to send representatives or messengers. He sent himself through Jesus to spend the time, to interface, and to grow people in a way that would have lasting promise.
Let’s not be discouraged that being present doesn’t always finish with a end product that can be quantified or hung on a wall like a degree. Instead, let’s realize the gift of being alive to be present or the joy of being that which brings a smile to someone’s face.
I’ve been living vicariously through a friend who has been house sitting/dog sitting. I often did that in my normal life. (PS-good tour preparation) I smile at the fact that houses need to be sat. I’m sure they get lonely. I remember the day I returned from my Christmas holiday to find my house at school the same temperature as a walk in freezer. The heater had broken- a sure sign of the house’s disgruntlement from our extended absence. But I digress.
Apart from the obvious and intensely important reasons one should “house” sit, dog sitting ranks up there in worthwhile activities as say visiting old folks homes and playing the flute for church. These experiences are meant to take you out of yourself and appreciate other’s needs and well being. And to a dog-sat dog, presence is all that matters. “Presence” can turn into petting, hopefully feeding and watering, and maybe even walking. Pets usually respond to people and feel a great deal of impact when the human is gone. That’s why dogs run to a newly-arrived guest or mom as she walks in the door from work. They want the attention, the company that doesn’t require anything but one’s existence.
I had a reminder of this simple idea as I came home from grocery shopping the other day. Though it didn’t take too long, the kids seemed to think I was gone for an eternity. On top of it, they weren’t just happy to see me and say hello, but they wanted me to hug and pet and hold them and tell them stories.
Sometimes in life our presence is our job. That’s the purpose for the season, and even in the midst of doing other things, being “here” matters to the people around you, especially to the small people. They hold dear to the time spent as if I had deposited a handful of money into their pocket. A wise teacher once said to me that how we spend our time determines our priorities. Therefore, if we are willing to spend our time being present to a friend at coffee, sister over the phone, child on the swing, God in the quiet, we are setting a precedent of importance and value. It can and should be intentional, but even when it’s not, the committed presence impacts that life.
That’s how God did it. He decided to be present with his people. Not just to send representatives or messengers. He sent himself through Jesus to spend the time, to interface, and to grow people in a way that would have lasting promise.
Let’s not be discouraged that being present doesn’t always finish with a end product that can be quantified or hung on a wall like a degree. Instead, let’s realize the gift of being alive to be present or the joy of being that which brings a smile to someone’s face.
Monday, August 18, 2008
two tiny things
Immaculate thought the fountains at the Bellagio were worshipping. Others said they were dancing. All of the children were awestruck.
Mathew brought a great reminder to us and the children. When we come to these gigs in places like Las Vegas, it’s easy to think: Why am I here? Why did the organization bring me here? When really I should be asking: Why did God bring me here? This is the question for every threshold I cross and town I enter. I can be an ambassador for God in this place. I should seek to bring light in every dim or dark place, not just the ones that are labeled as such.
Mathew brought a great reminder to us and the children. When we come to these gigs in places like Las Vegas, it’s easy to think: Why am I here? Why did the organization bring me here? When really I should be asking: Why did God bring me here? This is the question for every threshold I cross and town I enter. I can be an ambassador for God in this place. I should seek to bring light in every dim or dark place, not just the ones that are labeled as such.
Sunday, August 17, 2008
good farrago
I had an incredible experience at church this morning. It was as if every song was played for me. Each message was directed right at me. And what’s even more amazing is that I wasn’t the only one. A couple of the children told me that worship brought them to tears, but they didn’t know why. They were dancing and singing and all of a sudden…
I could interpret many things from their experience some of which I told them. I tried to explain to them how I wanted to go run and jump and shout in the parking lot after church due to my excitement and spirit-fed gusto (which I sort of did though no one saw), but such attempts were lost on them as much as they’re lost on me tp even articulate.
All I know is that God has a mighty language with which he speaks, and it can knock us off our feet, especially when we’re not expecting it. Various wonderful, marvelous, thrilling ideas and jumbles are reeling through my head these days, many of which have to do with more than just the next 10 minutes- go for 10 YEAR plan. In the midst of all this “planning” or “dreaming,” activities much pursued in my college days, I was reminded yet again that God has a perfect purpose for me. The passions which are fueling much of this farrignous* fire point at the very thing that God will have me do. Cool. And exciting. And WHAT! Crazy, Out of Control, Wild, the Creator of the universe is using me?…Yikes!
So it’s all good. That’s the main interpretation I have for what happen this morning. God’s in the middle of it, doing what he does best…being GOOD.
* a new word to add to my vocabulary (so helpful when wanting to alliterate)
farrago |fəˈrägō; -ˈrā-| noun ( pl. -goes) a confused mixture
derivatives: farrignous- adj
I could interpret many things from their experience some of which I told them. I tried to explain to them how I wanted to go run and jump and shout in the parking lot after church due to my excitement and spirit-fed gusto (which I sort of did though no one saw), but such attempts were lost on them as much as they’re lost on me tp even articulate.
All I know is that God has a mighty language with which he speaks, and it can knock us off our feet, especially when we’re not expecting it. Various wonderful, marvelous, thrilling ideas and jumbles are reeling through my head these days, many of which have to do with more than just the next 10 minutes- go for 10 YEAR plan. In the midst of all this “planning” or “dreaming,” activities much pursued in my college days, I was reminded yet again that God has a perfect purpose for me. The passions which are fueling much of this farrignous* fire point at the very thing that God will have me do. Cool. And exciting. And WHAT! Crazy, Out of Control, Wild, the Creator of the universe is using me?…Yikes!
So it’s all good. That’s the main interpretation I have for what happen this morning. God’s in the middle of it, doing what he does best…being GOOD.
* a new word to add to my vocabulary (so helpful when wanting to alliterate)
farrago |fəˈrägō; -ˈrā-| noun ( pl. -goes) a confused mixture
derivatives: farrignous- adj
Saturday, August 16, 2008
snake by snake
Yesterday the man came to mow the lawn. As we sat on the porch by the mud room, someone noticed something wriggling around in the grass so the kids went to inspect. On closer look they discovered a snake. A wee snake about 10 inches long and no wider than my pinky finger.
BUT A SNAKE!
At least those were their feelings. Angela got a stick but as she doesn't like snakes, she handed it over to me to pull the snake out. The poor dude had a nice cut which made his guts ooze a little. I pulled it out of it's hole and Mirembe took over.
The kids were crying out and shouting, "Mirembe! Mirembe! Mirembe! Mirembe! Mirembe! Mirembe! Mirembe!"
As he hoisted the snake hanging over the stick and took it out to the field by the road. a parade of children followed him still shouting, picking up sticks and rocks along the way.
It looked like they were going to burn a witch or something.
Mirembe flung the snake off the stick just close enough whereby he then took a small post and started beating it while Claudio and Joseph threw rocks.
He beat it dead, and everyone made sure it was sufficiently buried by thrown rocks. All the time kids are squealing and carrying on in such raucous as if to scream it to death.
Apparently this isn’t an unusual scene back home. Of course, the snakes are much bigger and more poisonous than a little gardner snake, but this tour is suppose to be training ground for these kids. We’re not making them Americans, we’re trying to help them grow into great Africans. Why not start in the garden?
What activities do we do that makes us the better people that we are meant to be? I had a Catholic professor at a predominantly Protestant school. She always instructed us by saying, “I’m hoping I’m making you better Protestants as you are refining my Catholicism.” It’s not about converting but about honing. When I ran track I didn’t want to run the 10K (neither did my teammates- they would have had to pull out the calendar to time me) but their dedication to their intense and grueling race urged me on to dedicate as much energy and focus to my 15 second hurdle race.
It’s easy to think being better means changing something about our current circumstances. Sometimes the change that leads to refinement is just in our pursuit and attitude. We can be better where we are by being a bit more intentional, using inspiration from co-workers or friends to motivate our current progress, and appreciating the unique situation we’re in where self-improvement is within our grasp and worth seeking.
Let’s embrace who we are, where we are, and where we can go…snake by snake.
BUT A SNAKE!
At least those were their feelings. Angela got a stick but as she doesn't like snakes, she handed it over to me to pull the snake out. The poor dude had a nice cut which made his guts ooze a little. I pulled it out of it's hole and Mirembe took over.
The kids were crying out and shouting, "Mirembe! Mirembe! Mirembe! Mirembe! Mirembe! Mirembe! Mirembe!"
As he hoisted the snake hanging over the stick and took it out to the field by the road. a parade of children followed him still shouting, picking up sticks and rocks along the way.
It looked like they were going to burn a witch or something.
Mirembe flung the snake off the stick just close enough whereby he then took a small post and started beating it while Claudio and Joseph threw rocks.
He beat it dead, and everyone made sure it was sufficiently buried by thrown rocks. All the time kids are squealing and carrying on in such raucous as if to scream it to death.
Apparently this isn’t an unusual scene back home. Of course, the snakes are much bigger and more poisonous than a little gardner snake, but this tour is suppose to be training ground for these kids. We’re not making them Americans, we’re trying to help them grow into great Africans. Why not start in the garden?
What activities do we do that makes us the better people that we are meant to be? I had a Catholic professor at a predominantly Protestant school. She always instructed us by saying, “I’m hoping I’m making you better Protestants as you are refining my Catholicism.” It’s not about converting but about honing. When I ran track I didn’t want to run the 10K (neither did my teammates- they would have had to pull out the calendar to time me) but their dedication to their intense and grueling race urged me on to dedicate as much energy and focus to my 15 second hurdle race.
It’s easy to think being better means changing something about our current circumstances. Sometimes the change that leads to refinement is just in our pursuit and attitude. We can be better where we are by being a bit more intentional, using inspiration from co-workers or friends to motivate our current progress, and appreciating the unique situation we’re in where self-improvement is within our grasp and worth seeking.
Let’s embrace who we are, where we are, and where we can go…snake by snake.
Friday, August 15, 2008
the Joy.
These reflections come in the context of the Olympics, southern hospitality for our many visitors and the departure of a friend.
One risks a lot having great expectations.
One hopes they are met without complications.
Then one can give explanations
Of the joy.
One’s source of endless exultations
Can only be seen in part, not as completed compilations.
Hence the reason for the random exclamations
Of the joy.
It can come from athletic dominations,
Words of support and inspirations,
Or a simple hug of love explains the accumulations
Of the joy.
One should keep the great expectations
Which can lead to moments of jubilations.
Nothing should stand in the way- not the risk, not the derivations-
Of the joy.
One risks a lot having great expectations.
One hopes they are met without complications.
Then one can give explanations
Of the joy.
One’s source of endless exultations
Can only be seen in part, not as completed compilations.
Hence the reason for the random exclamations
Of the joy.
It can come from athletic dominations,
Words of support and inspirations,
Or a simple hug of love explains the accumulations
Of the joy.
One should keep the great expectations
Which can lead to moments of jubilations.
Nothing should stand in the way- not the risk, not the derivations-
Of the joy.
Thursday, August 14, 2008
no words.
Good day. Good company. Good food. Good thoughts.
No Words.
What do you do when you don’t have words
To put together a thought, a sentence, a prayer?
What happens to the thing in your heart
When your mouth stays shut, the mind goes blank, the eyes just stare?
Why is so hard to convert feelings into phrases?
They don’t have to be profound or new.
Why is it easier to spin around, looking for the…what?
See what I mean? It’s the words that are hard to do.
When my head is all filled up,
Is that when the steady flow stops?
When I want to say it all and more
But I don’t know what has more meaning, if its phrased right, what should be tops?
Who can say this is not normal, though,
To be at a loss over the important things?
Who hasn’t been in this situation of jumbledness
When the heart jumps, hopes, cries, dances, sings?
Where is there a better place to be
Than in a state of dissonance and seeking?
Where would I rather be?
I can’t say..that’s part of the what I’m still tweaking.
No Words.
What do you do when you don’t have words
To put together a thought, a sentence, a prayer?
What happens to the thing in your heart
When your mouth stays shut, the mind goes blank, the eyes just stare?
Why is so hard to convert feelings into phrases?
They don’t have to be profound or new.
Why is it easier to spin around, looking for the…what?
See what I mean? It’s the words that are hard to do.
When my head is all filled up,
Is that when the steady flow stops?
When I want to say it all and more
But I don’t know what has more meaning, if its phrased right, what should be tops?
Who can say this is not normal, though,
To be at a loss over the important things?
Who hasn’t been in this situation of jumbledness
When the heart jumps, hopes, cries, dances, sings?
Where is there a better place to be
Than in a state of dissonance and seeking?
Where would I rather be?
I can’t say..that’s part of the what I’m still tweaking.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
paradox
Life around the house surprises me everyday. Yesterday, Lynate and I went on a spider rampage, clearing all the webs around the house. Such a task was emboldening and utterly gross because while we got rid of lots of intruding friends and their habitats, the fact that we had so many was a bit disturbing. In our retaking of our home, Lynate and I missed a very large visitor right by the porch light. Thankfully, the three boys in grade two spotted it right away. Even Lubega said hi would kill it right away, if he could jump that high, the class decided to name their new friend Spencer. Spencer might not last long, but there’s a lovely and surprising paradox in being both friend and foe to the creature.
This morning the same class took a science field trip to the back yard. They found a broken bird, struggling to fly with it’s bruised leg or sprained toe. So the little bird became the subject of observation for all the classes. As a teacher let it rest in her hands, the bird hopped out and began to scuttle and flap its wings through the house. What a funny site, bird trying desperately to escape while teacher ran hunched over to catch it and return it to the outdoors. Again, a bit of love and tenderness mixed with utter chaos and uproar. Oh my!
Finally, at least for this post, comes the cooking of dinner. Sometimes madness ensues and other times, the microwave is the only sweating from work. Last night, leftovers were at hand for consumption, but tonight sis and I went to town and brought the house down. (Can I really rhyme here- is that allowed? She wore a bandana…) Anyway we made hamburgers, company potatoes, peas, buns, tomatoes, ketchup…
Boy, we were a hit. A real class act, family style. And yet, we couldn’t have done it without the help of the little ones we fed, especially the B. He master-minded the lovely table-setting, grape-washing, tomato-slicing, and all around up-lifting words. Meanwhile, S/J were efficiently running around with our heads cut off to serve dinner in timeish. Everyone ate the goodness (not ice cream) and left wild and full of energy while we nodded and went to bed (early for us) with the satisfaction of a job well done.
This morning the same class took a science field trip to the back yard. They found a broken bird, struggling to fly with it’s bruised leg or sprained toe. So the little bird became the subject of observation for all the classes. As a teacher let it rest in her hands, the bird hopped out and began to scuttle and flap its wings through the house. What a funny site, bird trying desperately to escape while teacher ran hunched over to catch it and return it to the outdoors. Again, a bit of love and tenderness mixed with utter chaos and uproar. Oh my!
Finally, at least for this post, comes the cooking of dinner. Sometimes madness ensues and other times, the microwave is the only sweating from work. Last night, leftovers were at hand for consumption, but tonight sis and I went to town and brought the house down. (Can I really rhyme here- is that allowed? She wore a bandana…) Anyway we made hamburgers, company potatoes, peas, buns, tomatoes, ketchup…
Boy, we were a hit. A real class act, family style. And yet, we couldn’t have done it without the help of the little ones we fed, especially the B. He master-minded the lovely table-setting, grape-washing, tomato-slicing, and all around up-lifting words. Meanwhile, S/J were efficiently running around with our heads cut off to serve dinner in timeish. Everyone ate the goodness (not ice cream) and left wild and full of energy while we nodded and went to bed (early for us) with the satisfaction of a job well done.
hence the GREAT driving
So my sister came yesterday. And how did I know, we were wearing the same thing and our hair was doing it’s CRAZY and WILD thing. All the way home, I was driving and being insane so we were extremely safe. Really, focusing on the road is like trying to hit the golf ball straight the the fair way. It’s better to aim for the antelope in the rough and the ball will fly right into place. Anyway, this much anticipated date has finally arrived and I’m SUPER EXCITED. Hence the great driving.
Reuniting with people you know who live far away can go one of two ways. Either you’ve been in contact with one another and can start from yesterday’s conversation and go forward or you’ve talk to the other sporadically if at all and therefore spend the next several hours catching up. Both are fun and have their advantages. The sporadic check in gives a person a surprise to his day and hopefully a big grin. The daily updates allows a person to share in the other’s joys and woes as they happen. Such a situation offers both people the opportunity to step out from their world and share with perspective to each other. And if one doesn’ t have perspective the other one certainly will.
I love that I met my “twin” and she already knew what was happening tomorrow in my life. And I knew what she ate on her flight over. We had new stories to tell from the days events, more tales to tell about life, and excitement abounding. Hence the great driving.
And more than that, meeting people you’ve talked to more than every 3rd Tuesday after the full moon establishes a relationship that moves conversations from “How are you?” and “What’s new?” to “What are you dreaming to do next year?” Which could turn out to be “Hey, you too?” Making plans, encouraging dreams, holding each other accountable to those hopes. Such reunions get me pumped up for the moments, hours, days ahead. My head’s churning, her head’s brewing. It’s exciting. Hence the great driving.
Reuniting with people you know who live far away can go one of two ways. Either you’ve been in contact with one another and can start from yesterday’s conversation and go forward or you’ve talk to the other sporadically if at all and therefore spend the next several hours catching up. Both are fun and have their advantages. The sporadic check in gives a person a surprise to his day and hopefully a big grin. The daily updates allows a person to share in the other’s joys and woes as they happen. Such a situation offers both people the opportunity to step out from their world and share with perspective to each other. And if one doesn’ t have perspective the other one certainly will.
I love that I met my “twin” and she already knew what was happening tomorrow in my life. And I knew what she ate on her flight over. We had new stories to tell from the days events, more tales to tell about life, and excitement abounding. Hence the great driving.
And more than that, meeting people you’ve talked to more than every 3rd Tuesday after the full moon establishes a relationship that moves conversations from “How are you?” and “What’s new?” to “What are you dreaming to do next year?” Which could turn out to be “Hey, you too?” Making plans, encouraging dreams, holding each other accountable to those hopes. Such reunions get me pumped up for the moments, hours, days ahead. My head’s churning, her head’s brewing. It’s exciting. Hence the great driving.
Saturday, August 9, 2008
Laughing silly
The simple things in life make it all good. Really, it’s these moments that really make me smile and dance around. Anyone can attest to it, though the kids would be the first to share that their Auntie Sarah is a little silly but the “funniest in all the world.” Ahh…thanks.
The joys first came with the trip to the beach on our free, day-off Friday. A real beach with waves of the Atlantic ocean that filled our mouths with salt and sand. I tried to convince the kids it was sugar, but they wouldn’t buy it. I carried different kids on my back as we jumped waves, ran from them and dove right into the water. At one point I took one of the smallest boys on my back and ran across the beach, chasing a bird who kept running at just the right speed to taunt us. Godfrey and I were screaming and waving our warms (I was- he was holding me by the neck) and still the bird kept scuttling along without any fear or trepidation. I realized throughout the excursion, Godfrey was mainly laughing at me and not helping the scaring-bird-off-it’s-feet-into-the-ocean mission. Oh well, I looked silly again, he took to giggling: mission accomplished.
Yesterday, the Summer Olympics started with an amazing display of art, technology and China’s unique culture colliding into a ceremony meant to bring hope, harmony, and a charge to make history. I came in from the bus in time to remember the ceremonies had just started. I jumped on the couch and remote to find NBC. And jumping, I remained to view 2008 Chinese drummers putting on a spectacular light show with their instruments with the precision that dropped my jaw for several minutes…when I wasn’t squealing with delight. The whole event kept me captivated, though I did have to scurry in and out of the kitchen during commercials to grab a bite to eat for dinner. The kids just laughed and watched in awe at the mere
madness of me.
Then there was the refrigerator. With 34 people living out of a few “ice-boxes,” as my grandma would say, things tend to spill, leftovers can be forgotten and tucked away, and who knows all the ways humidity comes into play. So I cleaned it out with the help of a few willing volunteers. Now it sparkles. I open the doors just to look at the clean shelves and I inevitably do a little jig. Job well done.
New discoveries are probably the #1 source of smiles. Mr. Lubega, as we formally call him, has come to a new level of dexterity with the English language. Once the littlest boy with the most anxiety and unknowing in his eyes, Lubega now chats up a storm, tries new and strange foods, and offers profound pieces of insight. Tonight the kids enjoyed ice cream and more than just the usual vanilla. Rainbow really mixed things up. And Lubega didn’t miss a beat for, as he tried he first bite, he held out the bowl to offer me some, saying, “Auntie, have a taste of the goodness.” Boy, did he have that nailed down; the ice cream couldn’t have been better after such a praise. The special English lessons are paying off, even the African chaperon said so. Lubega is just lucky I didn’t come dance around his chair poking in with my spoon when he wasn’t looking. Oh, I still giggle inside at his big, toothless grin and bowl of goodness.
The joys first came with the trip to the beach on our free, day-off Friday. A real beach with waves of the Atlantic ocean that filled our mouths with salt and sand. I tried to convince the kids it was sugar, but they wouldn’t buy it. I carried different kids on my back as we jumped waves, ran from them and dove right into the water. At one point I took one of the smallest boys on my back and ran across the beach, chasing a bird who kept running at just the right speed to taunt us. Godfrey and I were screaming and waving our warms (I was- he was holding me by the neck) and still the bird kept scuttling along without any fear or trepidation. I realized throughout the excursion, Godfrey was mainly laughing at me and not helping the scaring-bird-off-it’s-feet-into-the-ocean mission. Oh well, I looked silly again, he took to giggling: mission accomplished.
Yesterday, the Summer Olympics started with an amazing display of art, technology and China’s unique culture colliding into a ceremony meant to bring hope, harmony, and a charge to make history. I came in from the bus in time to remember the ceremonies had just started. I jumped on the couch and remote to find NBC. And jumping, I remained to view 2008 Chinese drummers putting on a spectacular light show with their instruments with the precision that dropped my jaw for several minutes…when I wasn’t squealing with delight. The whole event kept me captivated, though I did have to scurry in and out of the kitchen during commercials to grab a bite to eat for dinner. The kids just laughed and watched in awe at the mere
madness of me.
Then there was the refrigerator. With 34 people living out of a few “ice-boxes,” as my grandma would say, things tend to spill, leftovers can be forgotten and tucked away, and who knows all the ways humidity comes into play. So I cleaned it out with the help of a few willing volunteers. Now it sparkles. I open the doors just to look at the clean shelves and I inevitably do a little jig. Job well done.
New discoveries are probably the #1 source of smiles. Mr. Lubega, as we formally call him, has come to a new level of dexterity with the English language. Once the littlest boy with the most anxiety and unknowing in his eyes, Lubega now chats up a storm, tries new and strange foods, and offers profound pieces of insight. Tonight the kids enjoyed ice cream and more than just the usual vanilla. Rainbow really mixed things up. And Lubega didn’t miss a beat for, as he tried he first bite, he held out the bowl to offer me some, saying, “Auntie, have a taste of the goodness.” Boy, did he have that nailed down; the ice cream couldn’t have been better after such a praise. The special English lessons are paying off, even the African chaperon said so. Lubega is just lucky I didn’t come dance around his chair poking in with my spoon when he wasn’t looking. Oh, I still giggle inside at his big, toothless grin and bowl of goodness.
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
are you my BFF?
Does the a person you consider to be a best friend have to have a mutual perception?
It’s a question I’ve been contemplating for a long time.
What makes a best friend? Does it have something to do with the fact that you have similar beliefs, share the same mind, cannot talk forever and yet begin a conversation right where you left off, see a talent others miss, can talk about anything and everything for hours or minutes, wear the same clothes, finish each other’s sentences, know exactly how the other person would react to a certain comment or event, eat the exact same thing or the exact opposite, learn more about yourself and God through the interaction? Or is such a formula or list of characteristics fit just one set of BFFs? Does each pair create their own definition?
I think so. And therefore I think it’s acceptable and plausible to have differing opinions about the Bestness of your friendship. And really, best friends count mainly at 8-year-old birthday parties where it designates who gets to sit by the birthday girl and have the 2nd piece of cake after the 1st goes to the queen bee for the day. I’m not saying best friends don’t or shouldn’t exist. The definitions change so much that assumptions about what a best friend looks like, who it should be, why it is so, how it came to be, and what it requires or advantages the other has in the relationship isn't really important to the outside world. The result of abundant joy and lavishing love from this friendship is important. That, the world can see, appreciate, and even benefit from as such adoration only tends to bubble outward. Ooze in my case probably.
The Gospel writer, John, wrote about himself as the beloved. Jesus held him close to his heart in a unique way. Jesus didn't exactly confirmed this, probably because, as God, he has equally abounding and unmeasurable love for everyone, despite the tantrums he through at the temple. And yet, all the Gospel writers talk about a certain few that Jesus hung out with a lot including Peter and John. Peter inherited the keys to heaven and was told to be the rock or foundation on which the church was to be built. So John received a certain extra measure of love. He’s writing his autobiography a little bit so he had the liberty to elaborate as he perceives. I’m glad that John felt worthy enough to claim such affection.
Regardless of the mutual feelings toward bestestness of friendship, I should claim it for myself that I have a friend who delights in me. One, a couple, some, many, endless friends delight in me and I delight in them.
It’s a question I’ve been contemplating for a long time.
What makes a best friend? Does it have something to do with the fact that you have similar beliefs, share the same mind, cannot talk forever and yet begin a conversation right where you left off, see a talent others miss, can talk about anything and everything for hours or minutes, wear the same clothes, finish each other’s sentences, know exactly how the other person would react to a certain comment or event, eat the exact same thing or the exact opposite, learn more about yourself and God through the interaction? Or is such a formula or list of characteristics fit just one set of BFFs? Does each pair create their own definition?
I think so. And therefore I think it’s acceptable and plausible to have differing opinions about the Bestness of your friendship. And really, best friends count mainly at 8-year-old birthday parties where it designates who gets to sit by the birthday girl and have the 2nd piece of cake after the 1st goes to the queen bee for the day. I’m not saying best friends don’t or shouldn’t exist. The definitions change so much that assumptions about what a best friend looks like, who it should be, why it is so, how it came to be, and what it requires or advantages the other has in the relationship isn't really important to the outside world. The result of abundant joy and lavishing love from this friendship is important. That, the world can see, appreciate, and even benefit from as such adoration only tends to bubble outward. Ooze in my case probably.
The Gospel writer, John, wrote about himself as the beloved. Jesus held him close to his heart in a unique way. Jesus didn't exactly confirmed this, probably because, as God, he has equally abounding and unmeasurable love for everyone, despite the tantrums he through at the temple. And yet, all the Gospel writers talk about a certain few that Jesus hung out with a lot including Peter and John. Peter inherited the keys to heaven and was told to be the rock or foundation on which the church was to be built. So John received a certain extra measure of love. He’s writing his autobiography a little bit so he had the liberty to elaborate as he perceives. I’m glad that John felt worthy enough to claim such affection.
Regardless of the mutual feelings toward bestestness of friendship, I should claim it for myself that I have a friend who delights in me. One, a couple, some, many, endless friends delight in me and I delight in them.
Monday, August 4, 2008
sparkling stickers
I realized how little it takes to motivate and excite kids. Just a sticker. Actually in this case it was moving from 19 to 21 stickers. And then to see a whole chart with those stickers posted made the children’s eyes sparkle and bodies dance. They count each star sticker and suddenly their math skills dramatically improve in order to know how far they are from the next milestone and goal.
Now that I think about it, not much is required to motivate me. Give me a hug after a hard day’s work or chai tea in the morning along with the good words of encouragement and praise, and I’ll make magic, mountains move, and move with diligence the rest of the day.
My pondering today remind me of a duty and privilege to encourage those around me with even the smallest gestures. An email, smile, hug, York Peppermint Patty or gummy worms. It’s important to recognize the accomplishments big and small and bolster those who are falling behind or slacking. The line of stars by my name might be long, but the real spectacle is a whole sheet filled with the sparkly wonders from accomplishments made with, alongside, while others also do life to the best of their ability.
Now that I think about it, not much is required to motivate me. Give me a hug after a hard day’s work or chai tea in the morning along with the good words of encouragement and praise, and I’ll make magic, mountains move, and move with diligence the rest of the day.
My pondering today remind me of a duty and privilege to encourage those around me with even the smallest gestures. An email, smile, hug, York Peppermint Patty or gummy worms. It’s important to recognize the accomplishments big and small and bolster those who are falling behind or slacking. The line of stars by my name might be long, but the real spectacle is a whole sheet filled with the sparkly wonders from accomplishments made with, alongside, while others also do life to the best of their ability.
Sunday, August 3, 2008
greener
All of a sudden it feels like the beginning of the semester when all the syllabi are handed out and huge projects loom on the horizon. These projects seem daunting in themselves, then the daily homework and studying comes to the forefront and all of a sudden, I just want to crawl in bed.
The next couple weeks aren’t really that bad. In fact they’re filled with many good things, good people, and events for which I’m well prepared. I would be so bold as to predict that August will be the most fun month thus far on tour. But our days of lots of down time are coming to a close.
The grass is always greener…
The next couple weeks aren’t really that bad. In fact they’re filled with many good things, good people, and events for which I’m well prepared. I would be so bold as to predict that August will be the most fun month thus far on tour. But our days of lots of down time are coming to a close.
The grass is always greener…
Saturday, August 2, 2008
a real ASPIRATION
In recent conversations with friends and brothers (I mean my ONLY brother…at least by blood), the discussion of our generation came up. It’s amazing what my friends, my age and younger, are doing, dreaming about, and creating with their varied talents. I have a friend going to Norway for her 2nd year to lead YWAM groups, a friend buying his own house and working in big corporate America, a friend getting her PhD in molecular biology (DNA and things-wowsers), and a friend pursuing a new job and taking a leap of faith by moving across the country. There is a great deal of hope, possibility, productivity, and purpose.
And yet, we might be missing the boat, too. With whom do we relate in the midst of the abundance of technology, busyness, and stimulation? Are there younger ones who are growing into this kind of world, not knowing the value of family dinner time where dreams can be shared? What value and loyalty do we show when we move from one thing to the next so quickly?
These are just thoughts. There’s not a simple answer and obviously, the pendulum swings to both sides of the spectrum: positive and negative. I woke up to this poem writing itself on the Broca's Area of the brain. No need wasting good hours of the day with a hibernating mind. The poem speaks to just one way to realize the realities and respond to the needs of the generation.
A real ASPIRATION
We’re the generation of over-stimulation
Who just want simplification
of their situation
not a multiplication or invasion
which creates hibernation from the real world.
What is the justification
of the entire nation
to drench the group with complication,
not simply give hydration
of exhortation, filled with jubilation
and adoration for being a real person?
It's time to take our infatuation
of the over-stimulation
and use re-coordination and intentional orchestration
to guide the generation
to a higher station
of love, joy and pure relation
for the restoration and revitalization of the real truth.
And yet, we might be missing the boat, too. With whom do we relate in the midst of the abundance of technology, busyness, and stimulation? Are there younger ones who are growing into this kind of world, not knowing the value of family dinner time where dreams can be shared? What value and loyalty do we show when we move from one thing to the next so quickly?
These are just thoughts. There’s not a simple answer and obviously, the pendulum swings to both sides of the spectrum: positive and negative. I woke up to this poem writing itself on the Broca's Area of the brain. No need wasting good hours of the day with a hibernating mind. The poem speaks to just one way to realize the realities and respond to the needs of the generation.
A real ASPIRATION
We’re the generation of over-stimulation
Who just want simplification
of their situation
not a multiplication or invasion
which creates hibernation from the real world.
What is the justification
of the entire nation
to drench the group with complication,
not simply give hydration
of exhortation, filled with jubilation
and adoration for being a real person?
It's time to take our infatuation
of the over-stimulation
and use re-coordination and intentional orchestration
to guide the generation
to a higher station
of love, joy and pure relation
for the restoration and revitalization of the real truth.
Friday, August 1, 2008
Spiderwebs
A spiderweb is my new stop sign. Without the bright red to let me know it’s there. That’s why it works because even the brightest and obnoxious thing doesn’t always capture my full attention. I can easily read, listen to music and work out at the same time so missing a sign or less than obvious marker in my daily journey would not be that unreasonable. What can I say- I’m of the “Generation of Over-stimulation. (With names like that, School House Rock might make a little song about us…)
Spiderwebs, on the other hand, demand attention. They cover my face, stick to my body, and will remain until I peel and shake them off. Somehow, I end up with remnants of the web on me until I take a shower or wash my socks. It’s really quite gross. On top of their ridiculously sticky nature, spiderwebs somehow span all sorts of space. Spiders have an amazing ability to string a web from a tree branch to a shrub five feet away and usually across a path of open space. If their web is destroyed one afternoon, they will rebuild the next morning.
I have tried to predict these behaviors during my morning runs. Thankfully, I’ve found a pretty spider-free path, but on those rare occasions when I want different scenery, I literally run into a world of webs. In addition to my desire for a mix of sights, I usually take such routes in order to think, pray, or slow down a hectic pace of life. These goals are always easier said than done, so the spiderwebs remind me of the goal at hand. Right as my mind starts wandering, I walk right into a blatant, INVISIBLE sign that says “FOCUS!” And then I have to grapple with the web until I feel void of the sticky strings. At this point, I’m still working on not getting frustrated by these unforeseen obstacles, but with two-day spiderweb striking streak, I can’t help but move beyond the initial and superficial discomfort of the webs and refocus.
It certainly takes discipline to pay attention even though these sticky signs do a good job of being annoyingly up-front and in my face. I’m trying to understand and make changes according to what the signs are saying. I’m working at focusing on the things on my heart rather than burying them under all the flashing lights, busy days, high def movies and ever constant demands from people as "Gen OS" dictates. I better because stop signs and spiderwebs are much less invasive or devastating as say snake bites, stomach pains, or being swallowed by a whale.
Spiderwebs, on the other hand, demand attention. They cover my face, stick to my body, and will remain until I peel and shake them off. Somehow, I end up with remnants of the web on me until I take a shower or wash my socks. It’s really quite gross. On top of their ridiculously sticky nature, spiderwebs somehow span all sorts of space. Spiders have an amazing ability to string a web from a tree branch to a shrub five feet away and usually across a path of open space. If their web is destroyed one afternoon, they will rebuild the next morning.
I have tried to predict these behaviors during my morning runs. Thankfully, I’ve found a pretty spider-free path, but on those rare occasions when I want different scenery, I literally run into a world of webs. In addition to my desire for a mix of sights, I usually take such routes in order to think, pray, or slow down a hectic pace of life. These goals are always easier said than done, so the spiderwebs remind me of the goal at hand. Right as my mind starts wandering, I walk right into a blatant, INVISIBLE sign that says “FOCUS!” And then I have to grapple with the web until I feel void of the sticky strings. At this point, I’m still working on not getting frustrated by these unforeseen obstacles, but with two-day spiderweb striking streak, I can’t help but move beyond the initial and superficial discomfort of the webs and refocus.
It certainly takes discipline to pay attention even though these sticky signs do a good job of being annoyingly up-front and in my face. I’m trying to understand and make changes according to what the signs are saying. I’m working at focusing on the things on my heart rather than burying them under all the flashing lights, busy days, high def movies and ever constant demands from people as "Gen OS" dictates. I better because stop signs and spiderwebs are much less invasive or devastating as say snake bites, stomach pains, or being swallowed by a whale.
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