Category: Uncategorized

During our trip around the country I had the honor of hanging out with United States poet laureate Billy Collins at a small wine bar in Orlando. Turns out he also gave this intriguing and poetic TED talk, “Everyday Moments, Caught in Time.” Enjoy!

“But when I, having been where I have, open the door of my fridge and see through one empty glass shelf to the next it leaves me feeling uneasy and, if I’m being honest, a little forgotten by the Big Man Upstairs. Though the paycheck goes in the bank tonight, this is still a new thing for me – not being able to fix my situation with a band-aid and a credit card.”

* * * * *

“I wasn’t really planning on quitting. It wasn’t like I had been sitting around thinking about how tired I was of working there. In fact, I actually really like my job at Starbucks. I work with really nice people. My job is fun. I make tips and have great benefits. And the best part is that, at the end of the day, I don’t have to bring my work home with me (unless of course you count my free coffee…)”

* * * * *

“and we’re feeling the strain. of wanting the old back, but aching for these children whose mother isn’t making the effort. we learned recently she’s been hurting them when they go home for the occasional weekend, and i told her no more of this back and forth. i told her we need to either adopt them ourselves, or find another Christian couple who will.”

“and i don’t think we can adopt them.”

* * * * *

“When we were away last weekend I realized again the gift of being fully present, disconnected from anything that is not in-the-flesh.  It re-sets me, I regain consciousness of the present moment, the beautiful mundane.  I have time to think about life through an uncluttered lens, and the world of the internet becomes less urgent, put back in its proper place.  When we visit my parents’ their internet is so slow that I don’t even bother checking email, and by the time we come home I no longer want to.”

* * * * *

“The thought of, for example, working on the CD for six more months before declaring it ‘done’ would have been considered short-term economic stupidity. As a result, we are saddled with thirty years of sub-par music–if they’d just held on a bit longer, it would all sound so much better.”

* * * * *

“The world clatters into our haven and tries to thwart us at every turn; we know it waking up and we know it going to sleep. The poet Richard Wilbur called it “the punctual rape of every blessed day” and the language may be harsh, but the days are nothing if not harsh, no?”

* * * * *

“I’m starting to enjoy the wide open space between letting go and being caught, to lean into the in-between, into the small discomforts of waiting and needing.  One thing I know for sure is that these spaces – the spaces made by our letting go, the wearing thin ones, the crowding together on the couch or floor ones – are the ones that open us to the possibility that we’re learning how to fly.”

* * * * *

“And I have nothing against committing to a job for a lifetime; my problem is having my sense of freedom erode day by day.  The more I become embedded, the harder it will become to “get out” … if I should ever choose to “get out.”  Will I eventually marry this business and sacrifice my dreams to earn a Ph.D.?  Will I become like so many others and just let this business take my soul?”

* * * * *

“It isn’t lost on me how my parenting short-cuts have mistreated the people I love, cultivated bad habits, and broken trust. I have bad habits to break, new habits to make, and relationships to repair.”

It would appear that many people were less than enthused with Jim Lehrer’s moderation of the first Presidential debate. I don’t have too much to say about that, except that I know I wouldn’t want to be the one stuck between those two human representations of all the special interests in the (not-so-free) world.

But, hey, if you all want change, it’s change you’re gonna get. Here are 14 candidates for you to choose from – help decide who gets to moderate the next debate by voting in the comments. Or if none of these suit your fancy, pick someone else. You’re free to decide! After all, this isn’t the Presidential election.

Conan O’Brien – Anyone whose Twitter bio is “The voice of the people. Sorry, people” deserves a shot. Plus, there’s the hair.

Sacha Baron Cohen – Preferably in his Borat Mankini. Okay, maybe “preferably” isn’t the word I’m looking for.

The Count – The moderator of the next debate obviously has to have Big Bird’s back. Don’t make him count to three…

Or we could go with his cousin:

Count Chocula – (Random fact: you can buy a box of this cereal on Amazon for $9.51)

Garth from Wayne’s World – For some reason he came to mind. Not sure why. My younger demographic probably doesn’t even know who he is.

Elmo – After watching the documentary Being Elmo, I basically want Elmo involved in every facet of society.

Bryan Allain – Lancaster’s resident funny man. I’d like to think he’d bring some of his Amish expertise into the mix, as well as his refreshing ideas for debate moderation.

The Trolley from Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood – The Trolley would fit in nicely with our two candidates: his communication is indecipherable, he’s constantly going back and forth, and he spends most of his time in a make-believe world.

Frank Costanza – Just because I love the way he transitions from normal talking to impassioned-rage-filled shouting.

Lloyd Christmas from Dumb and Dumber – Because presidential candidates basically talk like this, except with fancier words:

Lloyd: You’re it.
Harry: You’re it.
Lloyd: You’re it, quitsies!
Harry: Anti-quitsies, you’re it, quitsies, no anti-quitsies, no startsies!
Lloyd: You can’t do that!
Harry: Can too!
Lloyd: Cannot, stamp it!
Harry: Can too, double stamp it, no erasies!
Lloyd: Cannot, triple stamp, no erasies, Touch blue make it true.
Harry: No, you can’t do that… you can’t triple stamp a double stamp, you can’t triple stamp a double stamp! Lloyd!
Lloyd: [hands over ears] LA LA LA LA LA LA!
Harry: LLOYD! LLOYD! LLOYD!

Kit from Knight Rider – Go over your allotted time? The missiles pop out of the quarter panels.

Mahmoud Ahmadinejad – Okay, I concede that giving him this kind of platform would be counterproductive on some kind of world relations standard. And he’s delusional. But you have to admit, it would make for entertaining television.

Simon Cowell – Someone who says it like it is.

Lord Voldemort – I don’t know. Maybe he’d be a little excessive.

WHO GETS YOUR VOTE? WHO WOULD YOU ADD TO THE LIST?

Leaving my business. Traveling around the country. Living in a basement. Preparing to move again. Wondering where my next few projects will come from. Wondering what to write.

I crave clarity.

* * * * *

clarity //  noun //  the quality of being certain or definite (Oxford Dictionary)

If you wear glasses or contact lenses, you know the feeling. Click, click, click: the eye doctor makes her way through an assortment of lenses, trying to decipher which one works best for you. Then, voila!

Clarity.

* * * * *

Clarity (regarding not just your vision, but your life in general) is heralded. Being able to identify and communicate the direction you are headed is a highly touted trait of leadership. As a culture we place enormous value on clarity, seeking it when making major decisions or offering advice.

The strange thing is, the more determined I’ve become to trust God (which in practical terms seems to mostly mean rejecting worry, striving less, practicing generosity, and trying to be content), the less clarity I experience. As clarity evaporates, I have two choices: freak out or continue to trust.

But clarity brings such comfort! Knowing where I’m going to live, how I’m going to make money, when I’ll go here or there – this “knowing” gives me a sense of control, the feeling that I can glimpse the future and it is good. The absence of clarity, however, often seems to relegate the coming days to some kind of shapeless void. The lack of clarity can fill me with fear or anger or confusion.

* * * * *

When the brilliant ethicist John Kavanaugh went to work for three months at “the house of the dying” in Calcutta, he was seeking a clear answer as to how best to spend the rest of his life. On the first morning there he met Mother Teresa. She asked, “And what can I do for you?” Kavanaugh asked her to pray for him.

“What do you want me to pray for?” she asked. He voiced the request that he had borne thousands of miles from the US: “Pray that I have clarity.”

She said firmly, “No, I will not do that.” When he asked her why, she said, “Clarity is the last thing you are clinging to and must let go of.” When Kavanaugh commented that she always seemed to have the clarity he longed for, she laughed and said, “I have never had clarity; what I have always had is trust. So I will pray that you trust God.”

– Brennan Manning, Ruthless Trust

* * * * *

Of course, the biggest problem with trust is that it often looks irresponsible and ridiculous to the rest of the world, a world obsessed with clarity and infatuated by control. And we don’t want to look ridiculous.

But everyday, my friends are taking small steps of trust. They are writing books when they don’t yet have a platform. They are becoming foster parents. They are adopting one more child than those around them deem responsible. They are leaving the cubicle life behind for an unknown adventure. They give money to others when it means they will go without.

They have traded clarity for trust.

What I’ve noticed is that at the root of this trust is an ability to be okay with their place in the world even when things don’t make sense. To find joy in spite of the diagnosis. Peace in spite of the loss. Love in the face of hate. By doing so, they carry on a tradition much deeper and more meaningful than the shallow, materialistic creed embraced by our culture. They give hope to all of us, that life can be deeper than a bank account. That there are more important things to look forward to than our next vacation.

They give me hope that my own, often unclear existence might still contain meaning.

They live these words from Habakkuk:

Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines, though the olive crop fails and the fields produce no food, though there are no sheep in the pen and no cattle in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will be joyful in God my Savior. The Sovereign Lord is my strength.

Do not put your hope in clarity. Do not let your happiness hinge on your comfort or ability to map out your own future. Do not be afraid to do something you know you need to do even if you’re not sure how it fits into the bigger plan. Even if it doesn’t make sense.

Instead, trust.

When is the last time you practiced ruthless trust?

It’s been raining a lot around here lately, those deep, soaking kind of rains that tempt you into believing it’s spring already. That somehow you’ve managed to skip through the bone-chilling months of winter. That frozen windshields and snow shovels have been conveniently avoided.

But then you look at the fields and realize the harvest is over. You look up at the trees and realize it is the most beautiful of seasons, autumn, and winter is still on its way.

* * * * *

“I want to get some toys, mama,” our four-year old daughter said.

“Sorry, Abra. You don’t need any more toys. At least not today.”

“Yes, I do!” she shouted.

“Abra!” Maile said, surprised by this unusual outburst from our smiliest child. “You don’t need more toys. You don’t want to be greedy, do you?”

“Yes, I do,” she said, this time in a calculated voice full of reflection. “I haven’t been greeny in years.”

Greeny.

* * * * *

I felt like that earlier in the summer. I just wanted to be greeny. I felt like we had given up so much to chase our dreams, to follow the path that we felt God had put in front of us, and I was ready to collect the reward.

Here I am, God. Your faithful servant. Withdrawal slip in hand.

But rather than getting easier, things got more difficult. I ran out of projects. We didn’t get the house we wanted (at the time). And, as you’ll soon read about in a post I’ve written for Prodigal Magazine, we lost $15,000 in the time it takes to read a short email. What I had thought might finally be the spring turned out to be a deceitful fall day. A winter of the soul rolled in.

* * * * *

“We’re believing God for big things.”

“We know that God can provide what we’re asking for.”

“I know God can help me __________.” (Fill in the blank: “buy that house” or “get that promotion” or “get out of debt”.)

These days it’s hard for me to listen to people talk about God in that way. Not because I don’t believe he provides for us, but rather because I think we’re not usually ready to receive what he has to offer. I know I wasn’t.

This was by far the craziest summer yet. God’s gifts didn’t seem very good. We had gone five months without any meaningful, consistent income. I have no idea how we paid the bills, but we did. And in the midst of this incredible uncertainty, a new sort of trust has grown inside of me. A peace that makes absolutely no sense. A joy in simply living, waiting to see what’s next.

I now realize I got way more than my greeny little heart was asking for.

In Rachel Held Evan’s new book, A Year of Biblical Womanhood, she points out this prayer by St. Theresa of Avila. I’ll leave you with these words on this beautiful fall Friday. Hopefully, even if you’re in the middle of a raging winter, focusing on it will give you a glimpse of true spring:

Let nothing disturb you,
Let nothing frighten you,
All things are passing away:
God never changes.
Patience obtains all things
Whoever has God lacks nothing;
God alone suffices.

* * * * *

What’s the strangest gift you ever received from God?

Where Does Creativity Hide? by Amy Tan