Today I'm feeling discouraged. I don't even have a really good reason to. I think that a lot of it has to do with being a little disappointed. I know it doesn't matter, but today at work, I saw some of the teachers taking home boxes of gifts from their kids and parents, but I had four. It isn't important, but it makes me wonder if I'm doing something wrong that the parents dont like me.
Daniel didn't have to work tomorrow, but now I think he's going to be driving up to Minnesota to fix Nathan's car. That wasn't exactly what I'd planned on having this week look like, and we were just there this weekend.
And besides that, there's something about a discouraged Nathan that bothers me. I'm used to it, actually. I spent a couple of years being his friend when he was sure no one liked him after his fiancee ditched him. But I don't like it when the stable people in my life need help.
I can't find gifts for some people who I really wanted to get something cool for. And it's stupid, but it makes me feel like a failure of a friend. I can't decide what to get for my best friend. We spend hours together every week, but I can't find a single thing she'd like. And I feel like what I decide to give to people is inferior to what everyone else gives.
... that might have to do with the fact that my older brother is planning to give everyone gifts that are more than a hundred dollars.
Today it just feels like a kind of joy I usually have has been drained from me. Maybe it's my fault for caring about things I don't need to. Or maybe Maybe I'm just tired out and don't want to handle life right now. That might be it. I'm excited for Christmas, but it feels like things aren't going to slow down long enough to enjoy it. I'm s ure they will, though. They always do.
Wednesday, December 21, 2005
Thursday, December 15, 2005
A Hard Time we Had of It.
I've been reading a lot of poetry lately, and came across this about a month ago. It was just so cool that I want to share it. It being Christmas and all.
Journey of the Magi By TS Eliot
'A cold coming we had of it
just the worst time of year
For a journey and such a long journey
The ways deep and the weather sharp
The very dead of winter.'
And the camels galled, sore-footed, refractory
Lying down in the melting snow
There were times we regretted
The summer palaces on slopes, the terraces
And the silken girls bringing sherbt.
Then the camel men cursing and grumbling
And running away, and wanting their liquor and women
And And the night-fires going out, and the lack of shelters
And the cities hostile and the towns unfriendly
And the villages dirty and charging high prices:
A hard time we had for it.
At the end we preferred to travel all night, sleeping in snatches
With the voices singing in our ears, saying
That this was all folly.
Then at dawn we came down to a temperate valley
Wet, below the snow line, smelling of vegetation;
With a running stream and a water-mill beating the darkness
And three trees on the low sky,
And an old white horse gallopped away in the meadow
Then we came to a tavern with vine-leaves over the lintel
Six hands at an open door dicing for pieces of silver
And feet kicking the empty wine skins.
But there was no information, so we cotinued
And arrived at evening, not a moment too soon
Finding the place, it was (young men say) satisfactory
All this was a long time ago, I remember
And I would do it again but set down
This set down
This: were we led all that way for
Birth or Death? There was a Birth, certainly,
We had evidence and no doubt. I had seen birth and death
But had thought they were different; this birth was
Hard and bitter agony for us, like Death, our death.
WE returned to our places, these Kingdoms,
But no longer at ease here, in the old dispensation
With an alien people clutching their gods.
I should be glad of another death.
Journey of the Magi By TS Eliot
'A cold coming we had of it
just the worst time of year
For a journey and such a long journey
The ways deep and the weather sharp
The very dead of winter.'
And the camels galled, sore-footed, refractory
Lying down in the melting snow
There were times we regretted
The summer palaces on slopes, the terraces
And the silken girls bringing sherbt.
Then the camel men cursing and grumbling
And running away, and wanting their liquor and women
And And the night-fires going out, and the lack of shelters
And the cities hostile and the towns unfriendly
And the villages dirty and charging high prices:
A hard time we had for it.
At the end we preferred to travel all night, sleeping in snatches
With the voices singing in our ears, saying
That this was all folly.
Then at dawn we came down to a temperate valley
Wet, below the snow line, smelling of vegetation;
With a running stream and a water-mill beating the darkness
And three trees on the low sky,
And an old white horse gallopped away in the meadow
Then we came to a tavern with vine-leaves over the lintel
Six hands at an open door dicing for pieces of silver
And feet kicking the empty wine skins.
But there was no information, so we cotinued
And arrived at evening, not a moment too soon
Finding the place, it was (young men say) satisfactory
All this was a long time ago, I remember
And I would do it again but set down
This set down
This: were we led all that way for
Birth or Death? There was a Birth, certainly,
We had evidence and no doubt. I had seen birth and death
But had thought they were different; this birth was
Hard and bitter agony for us, like Death, our death.
WE returned to our places, these Kingdoms,
But no longer at ease here, in the old dispensation
With an alien people clutching their gods.
I should be glad of another death.
Wednesday, December 14, 2005
Comment
Does it bother anyone else that it says "Comments" at the bottom of the page, even if there's one? Because that really bugs me.
Saturday, December 10, 2005
Do Unto Others...
Thursday it snowed for about twelve straight hours. It was cool, and I was happy about it, but I was afraid to say so because everyone seemed so annoyed. I decided while driving to work that when I got off, I'd scrape the windows on everyone's car. I did mine first, and let it run while I went on to the next one. At that time, there were only two other people left at work. So I started scraping Kelly Jo's car. I like Kelly Jo. Everyone does. She's nice and kind and doesn't really gossip much. It was easy to scrape her car, too, because she had only been at work for three hours.
Melissa is the manager in the afternoon. While I was scraping Kelly Jo's car, she came out and said, "Kristin, do mine too." She tells people when she's trying to ask, that's how she is. So I said I'd planned to, and I went off to do hers. She'd been parked there all day, and there was a lot of ice on her car. But I did it anywya, because it was too late to turn around and not do it, especially after she'd seen me scraping Kelly Jo's.
But it got me to thinking about service, and how hard it can be to do onto others as you'd have them do onto you. especially when they're telling you to do it. And their life is such a bigger mess than everyone else's. And they aren't very gracious when you do finally do things to help them. I wish that some how, those people wouldn't count, and I could just help the nice people. After all, if I were being a jerk, I'd want someone to show me that I was being a jerk. That's doing onto others as I'd have them do onto me... but something tells me it doesn't work that way. It probably has more to do with Love your neighbor as yourself, and "Let this mind be in you that was also in christ Jesus who... became nothing, taking the form of a servant and humbling himself to the point of death." That's a lot more weighty than scraping people's cars off. And I think that it will be a long process for me to discover how fulfilling serving the jerks of the world can be.
Melissa is the manager in the afternoon. While I was scraping Kelly Jo's car, she came out and said, "Kristin, do mine too." She tells people when she's trying to ask, that's how she is. So I said I'd planned to, and I went off to do hers. She'd been parked there all day, and there was a lot of ice on her car. But I did it anywya, because it was too late to turn around and not do it, especially after she'd seen me scraping Kelly Jo's.
But it got me to thinking about service, and how hard it can be to do onto others as you'd have them do onto you. especially when they're telling you to do it. And their life is such a bigger mess than everyone else's. And they aren't very gracious when you do finally do things to help them. I wish that some how, those people wouldn't count, and I could just help the nice people. After all, if I were being a jerk, I'd want someone to show me that I was being a jerk. That's doing onto others as I'd have them do onto me... but something tells me it doesn't work that way. It probably has more to do with Love your neighbor as yourself, and "Let this mind be in you that was also in christ Jesus who... became nothing, taking the form of a servant and humbling himself to the point of death." That's a lot more weighty than scraping people's cars off. And I think that it will be a long process for me to discover how fulfilling serving the jerks of the world can be.
Monday, November 28, 2005
The Bluffs
Along the river is a road
cut into the ground
And high up on those man-made bluffs
are houses buried behind
the mountain-like timber
oaks and poplar; clouds of bushes hide
the crouching dominions for half the year
and possessed by the joy of privacy
or perhaps a hidden fear
of one of the driversby
catching a glimpse
of their neglected front
the peeling paint or overgrown lawns
these houses stayed veiled
until comes autumn
with then growing winds and faded sun
cause the carefully constructed curtain of foliage to fall
and the bare trees are windows to these homes' bluffs
whose glory or grotesqueness are disguised.
cut into the ground
And high up on those man-made bluffs
are houses buried behind
the mountain-like timber
oaks and poplar; clouds of bushes hide
the crouching dominions for half the year
and possessed by the joy of privacy
or perhaps a hidden fear
of one of the driversby
catching a glimpse
of their neglected front
the peeling paint or overgrown lawns
these houses stayed veiled
until comes autumn
with then growing winds and faded sun
cause the carefully constructed curtain of foliage to fall
and the bare trees are windows to these homes' bluffs
whose glory or grotesqueness are disguised.
Tuesday, November 15, 2005
Taking Lives
Why do there always have to be people in our lives who take more than we can give, who need more than they can express, and who drain us of all of our resources? It's not like I have much to give that anyone else would need, but for some reason, it seems like, since about the time I became uncool and unneeded, there have been people like that who jump into my life and take.
Raven used to call me every night and talk for two hours on the phone about the guys she thought she loved, the way she was treated by them, her family, TV shows, and anything else that came to mind. One time she called me and told me she wanted to kill herself, and all I did, as a very unwise eighth grader, was listen to her talk and tell her that I'd pray for her.
Karen was the kind of girl who tricked herself to think she was friends with popular people and would get crushed every time they blew her off or she realized that they didn't like her at all. She'd sit by me in math class and ask for help all the time, and even though I always knew the answers, she scored better than me on all of my math tests. She'd always run to me when her feelings got hurt, but it was kind of hard to be supportive when she blew me off to try and be popular.
Kelli is lonely. She grew up in a family of six kids, but now she lives by herself and works a part-time job. She called me today just to talk. And I wanted to eat my peanut-butter sandwich and finish getting ready for work. I only had an hour at home, and she used up half of it. And she wants to hang out some time.
Then there are the scores of lonely, hurt, popularity-seeking teenagers who walk into my life and beg for attention. And the four-year-olds who can't stop asking for hugs and tapping my shoulder to interrupt my conversations with co-workers. And the fourteen other Kellis, Ravens, and Karents that will at some point be part of my life and want--need attention and care that I just might not be able to give.
But I seem to remember something about His power being made perfect in our weaknesses, and a promise to carry my burdens. Because He cares for me. And I guess, if caring for people reflects Him, I should still do it even when it wears me out and drives me crazy, and even when the people who take can't give back.
Raven used to call me every night and talk for two hours on the phone about the guys she thought she loved, the way she was treated by them, her family, TV shows, and anything else that came to mind. One time she called me and told me she wanted to kill herself, and all I did, as a very unwise eighth grader, was listen to her talk and tell her that I'd pray for her.
Karen was the kind of girl who tricked herself to think she was friends with popular people and would get crushed every time they blew her off or she realized that they didn't like her at all. She'd sit by me in math class and ask for help all the time, and even though I always knew the answers, she scored better than me on all of my math tests. She'd always run to me when her feelings got hurt, but it was kind of hard to be supportive when she blew me off to try and be popular.
Kelli is lonely. She grew up in a family of six kids, but now she lives by herself and works a part-time job. She called me today just to talk. And I wanted to eat my peanut-butter sandwich and finish getting ready for work. I only had an hour at home, and she used up half of it. And she wants to hang out some time.
Then there are the scores of lonely, hurt, popularity-seeking teenagers who walk into my life and beg for attention. And the four-year-olds who can't stop asking for hugs and tapping my shoulder to interrupt my conversations with co-workers. And the fourteen other Kellis, Ravens, and Karents that will at some point be part of my life and want--need attention and care that I just might not be able to give.
But I seem to remember something about His power being made perfect in our weaknesses, and a promise to carry my burdens. Because He cares for me. And I guess, if caring for people reflects Him, I should still do it even when it wears me out and drives me crazy, and even when the people who take can't give back.
Sunday, November 13, 2005
The Community
I just got home from church, and I feel really good. It was the first service in quite a while that was exactly what I wanted/needed. First thing that happened was I couldn't find a parking spot. It irritated me, but it made me glad too.
Then I was early (intentionally) so I bought a donut and sat in the gym at a table with this random girl. I didn't know who she was, but we got to talking. She's new to the church, so I sat wtih her at service. IT reminded me of how I like doing that, how my weakness in ability to make conversation is totally compensated for by Daniel, who can talk to any random person for an hour, and how grateful people are that I do it even when I don't have anything to talk about.
Service was awesome. I realized while the choir was singing that one thing I love about my church is that they are able to worship in so many different ways. They aren't stuck to bluehair on the organ, or five-piece band rocking out, or choir, or whatever. They do it differently every week, and every week, I watch people lift their hands and sing and shout and truly worship. It's still pretty reserved, but it's worship. Today was no different, except for the reserved part. They were singing a Brooklyn Tab song that was kind of soulful. First the black lady from the worship team stood at the front of the sanctuary, and before the end of the song, a good third of the people were satnding, swaying and singing. It was good times. By the time the congregation joined for singing, we were all ready to worship. It was just reallyl cool.
The other thing I realized that I like about my church is how grace-oriented, but evangelisticlly minded they are. It's an incredible blend that works so well. Mixed with the overlaying emphasis on servant leadership, they do an awesome job of discipling and equipping people from every place in their Christian walk. I know that sounds vague, but if I went into examples, I would talk forever.
I was getting kind of tired of the sermons and some other things at church, but today reminded me of how beautiful of a place it is. And then the sermon was about teaming up for evangelism, how we are part of the big Church of the world, and we rely on one another and on God to get the work done. He preached over a passage that has forever confused me (Luke 10, which is about the same as Matthew 10), and it started to make a little more sense.
Anyway, I just wanted to share my excitement. I know this was poorly written, but I was too happy to concern myself with that.
Then I was early (intentionally) so I bought a donut and sat in the gym at a table with this random girl. I didn't know who she was, but we got to talking. She's new to the church, so I sat wtih her at service. IT reminded me of how I like doing that, how my weakness in ability to make conversation is totally compensated for by Daniel, who can talk to any random person for an hour, and how grateful people are that I do it even when I don't have anything to talk about.
Service was awesome. I realized while the choir was singing that one thing I love about my church is that they are able to worship in so many different ways. They aren't stuck to bluehair on the organ, or five-piece band rocking out, or choir, or whatever. They do it differently every week, and every week, I watch people lift their hands and sing and shout and truly worship. It's still pretty reserved, but it's worship. Today was no different, except for the reserved part. They were singing a Brooklyn Tab song that was kind of soulful. First the black lady from the worship team stood at the front of the sanctuary, and before the end of the song, a good third of the people were satnding, swaying and singing. It was good times. By the time the congregation joined for singing, we were all ready to worship. It was just reallyl cool.
The other thing I realized that I like about my church is how grace-oriented, but evangelisticlly minded they are. It's an incredible blend that works so well. Mixed with the overlaying emphasis on servant leadership, they do an awesome job of discipling and equipping people from every place in their Christian walk. I know that sounds vague, but if I went into examples, I would talk forever.
I was getting kind of tired of the sermons and some other things at church, but today reminded me of how beautiful of a place it is. And then the sermon was about teaming up for evangelism, how we are part of the big Church of the world, and we rely on one another and on God to get the work done. He preached over a passage that has forever confused me (Luke 10, which is about the same as Matthew 10), and it started to make a little more sense.
Anyway, I just wanted to share my excitement. I know this was poorly written, but I was too happy to concern myself with that.
Friday, November 11, 2005
Disquieted
Disquieted
There’s a disquieted feeling
when I think about you that night
remember you walking away
uneasy smile and nonchalant goodbye
as if everything was OK
Something inside of you worried,
parts of your life that made you afraid
Things hidden under the eyeliner and set jawpain
bigger than the things we talk about
I wonder if you could tell I saw
or if I pretended too well, played along with your game
while you were crying out and hoping inside
and I was waiting until it was too late.
My mind fills with suggestions
when I think of you that night
remember you walking away
Your relieved expression
like a dog unlocked from its cage.
and me, wishing I could say more or do something to help
becuase I know everything was not OK
and you’re just as disquietedas my spirit was when we met
There’s a disquieted feeling
when I think about you that night
remember you walking away
uneasy smile and nonchalant goodbye
as if everything was OK
Something inside of you worried,
parts of your life that made you afraid
Things hidden under the eyeliner and set jawpain
bigger than the things we talk about
I wonder if you could tell I saw
or if I pretended too well, played along with your game
while you were crying out and hoping inside
and I was waiting until it was too late.
My mind fills with suggestions
when I think of you that night
remember you walking away
Your relieved expression
like a dog unlocked from its cage.
and me, wishing I could say more or do something to help
becuase I know everything was not OK
and you’re just as disquietedas my spirit was when we met
Tuesday, November 08, 2005
Confession of my secret love for the blogging community
Is it a guilty pleasure? To be ennamoured with the personal thoughts of people who normally don't have a chance to share their personal thoughts? To want to know what "celebs" think about every day life, love and godliness? To sit for an hour a day and read through the insights, feelings and thoughts they've decided to share with the world(wide web)?
I love blogging. I don't like writing them as much as I like reading them, and my favorite part about blogging is that you can leave comments. It's like an interactive magazine with all of your favorite people! It's wonderful. It makes me so happy.
Yesterday I was thinking about Shaun Groves' blog, and wishing that more of my favorite artists had one. Then I found Chris Rice's! Yay. I suppose it's a small pleasure, and it really doesn't matter to anyone else, but I'm finding a certain element of my personal growth in blogging, the intelligent discussion from the standpoint of respected (and disrespected) people. It's great. Everyone should have one, and everyone should say more than "I ate tacos for supper. Then I got sick. And Joey's going out with Becky and I'm soooo jealous." Or whatever. I guess there's a place for those kinds of entries too, but, like conversations, they really don't take you very far.
I love blogging. I don't like writing them as much as I like reading them, and my favorite part about blogging is that you can leave comments. It's like an interactive magazine with all of your favorite people! It's wonderful. It makes me so happy.
Yesterday I was thinking about Shaun Groves' blog, and wishing that more of my favorite artists had one. Then I found Chris Rice's! Yay. I suppose it's a small pleasure, and it really doesn't matter to anyone else, but I'm finding a certain element of my personal growth in blogging, the intelligent discussion from the standpoint of respected (and disrespected) people. It's great. Everyone should have one, and everyone should say more than "I ate tacos for supper. Then I got sick. And Joey's going out with Becky and I'm soooo jealous." Or whatever. I guess there's a place for those kinds of entries too, but, like conversations, they really don't take you very far.
Friday, November 04, 2005
Tedious Living
Last night I was driving to work and I realized that writing is my primary method of handling stress. I started writing again this week, so it got me thinking, wondering if I was actually stressed right now, because it often doesn't feel like I am, even though I am. I don't know if that makes sense, but it takes me a while to figure out why I get symptoms of stress. So in that fifteen minute drive, I thought things through. I'm stressed. Not by anything big like job-loss or sickness, but the little things that are supposed to be in place in life, the things that cause a person to be secure, aren't all secure right now.
There are too many things to list, and I won't list, lest you lose interest (tribute to bad poetry).
Like I said, it isn't a lot of stuff that directly affects me. It's stuff like my mom having knee surgery and making me realize that our bodies are tired and weak, and you only get one chance to do it right. And my brother and sister-in-law getting accepted to be missionaries in Kazakstan and planning to leave within two years. And my husbands grandparents who are experiencing the final phases of their lives on earth. And my best friend probably won't be single forever and have lots of time to invest in friendship with me. And other inconsistancies that shake my sense of security.
I don't feel hopeless or lost. I guess I just feel kind of... tired. There's always good that can spring out of bad, and even if there isn't, there's hope and belief in the goodness of God to carry and sustain. But times like this make life feel tedious. And that's when I wonder what I'm doing wrong.
There are too many things to list, and I won't list, lest you lose interest (tribute to bad poetry).
Like I said, it isn't a lot of stuff that directly affects me. It's stuff like my mom having knee surgery and making me realize that our bodies are tired and weak, and you only get one chance to do it right. And my brother and sister-in-law getting accepted to be missionaries in Kazakstan and planning to leave within two years. And my husbands grandparents who are experiencing the final phases of their lives on earth. And my best friend probably won't be single forever and have lots of time to invest in friendship with me. And other inconsistancies that shake my sense of security.
I don't feel hopeless or lost. I guess I just feel kind of... tired. There's always good that can spring out of bad, and even if there isn't, there's hope and belief in the goodness of God to carry and sustain. But times like this make life feel tedious. And that's when I wonder what I'm doing wrong.
Monday, October 31, 2005
Disney Has Some Explaining to Do
I think as good, honest hard-working american citizens, we need to boycott Disney. Today. They are discriminatory biggots who give no regard to consistent thinking. Here's my reasoning:
Why should one dog get to be personified as a regular, doofy guy who tries hard but fails, and still ultimately ends up in a better situation, while one dog has to crawl around on the ground and be subserviant to of all things, a MOUSE, while yet another gruop of dogs are portrayed as good-natured criminals who cheat, lie and steal? Are not all dogs created equally? In real life, dogs are all like Pluto. They don't
raise kids, rival with their neighbors over who has a better, bigger house, create elaborate schemes to steal money from talking ducks, or play sports (with the exception of frisbee).So I am calling on all of you who live within the peramiters of reality to notify Disney of your decision to boycott their ridiculous portrayals of kid, loyal animals. Tell th
em to give equal rights to all dogs, beagle, terrior, hound, or whatever he may be. It's time for this foolishness to stop, and it begins with you.If we don't do something before it's too late, Disney will be personifying their select versions of cats, birds, horses, even pidgeons, while leaving others of the same species to play menial roles, crawling on the ground, begging for food, and causing trouble. It isn't fair. It isn't right. Let's change this while we can.
Sunday, October 30, 2005
Fire
I wanted to write an entry so I could use this picture I took at our fire last night. I decided not to write an entry, but just to allow everyone to enjoy the fire that I enjoyed. It was warm and big.
Life is good today. I got started on the next book in my "series" I'm writing. I wasn't in a hurry to write it, becausae my character Laurel is finally grduating from high school, and I feel about as ready as she is for her to leave for college. But it's OK now. I have my second wind with this story, and it's starting to fall into place, even though I'm only on page seven.
Friday, October 28, 2005
The Paradox of Humility
Humility is almost a paradoxal acheivement. Once you've reached that point, you can't even admit it to yourself or you risk arousing pride again. Ben Franklin put it nicely in his autobiography: "In reality, there is, perhaps, no one of our natural passions so hard to subdue as pride. disguise it, struggle with it, beat it down, stifle it, mortify it as much as one pleases, it is still alive, and will every now and then peep out and show itself; you will see it, poerhaps, often, in this history; for, even if I could conceive that I had completely overome it, I would probably be proud of my humility."
We are all guilty of depricating ourselves in an effort to be, or at least appear, humble. I never used to think a lot of it, but recently I noticed that a spiritual leader who I respect a lot, who carries insight and wisdom beyond his years, is frequently downplaying his thoughts and making himself look less respectable. I don't know what his motives for that are. Maybe he really does have low self-esteem. Maybe it's just because that's what he considers an accurate perception of himself. Maybe it is. I don't know him well enough to judge that, but it got me to thinking about myself.
I've always thought that I didn't have a lot to offer the rest of the world. I find myself getting depressed over the way people think about me, and how I preform. In high school, I would share these frustrations with a good friend and he was constantly syaing to me, "Stop depricating yourself!" I didn't really even know what it meant, and I certainly didn't know why he was telling me not to say something that was, to me, true. Now that I'm older and have been in his position, I think I understand a little bit of where he was coming from. He was my friend. He liked me as I was, and it sort of made him sad when I would downplay the gifts I had, talk poorly about myself, and compair myself to others. In a way I was telling him that I wasn't worth it to him, but he knew that wasn't true. Sometimes now, when I hear people I like or respect saying stuff like, "I'm going to say this but it doesn't mean much because it's coming from me" or "This is reading for those of you who are bored enough to actually bother with me", I want to stop them and say "Who is it who decides that?" It isn't always the writer that determines how useful his writing is. When people say things like that, it discredits them and causes others to miss out on opportunities to learn and be encouraged. If they don't value their own opinion, how can anyone value it?
It's not that you have to run around with absolute certainty on every statement you make/everything you do. That tends to annoy people, especially when you aren't always right but insist that you are in your demeanor. But when I say that, I leave the reader at a standstill because either way, it seems, you fail. Either you say what you think and devalue it in an effort to not sound like a know-it-all, or you sound like a know-it-all when you aren't. But there's a happy medium. I think I'd call it confidence.
This is starting to sound a lot like something Joel Oelstien would write, which wasn't my intention. I guess the point I'm trying to boil these scattered thoughts into is that there is such a thing as true humility, but it really has little to do with the way men view you, or the way you view yourself compaired to others. When I said it isn't the writer who determines how useful their writing is, I could have said that "It isn't the beholder who determines how beautiful a thing is; it's the creator."
True humility comes in understanding where you stand with God. Not in an "I am a worm" mentality, nor in an "God saved me so what's wrong with you?" one. Understanding where we are in light of God's judgement and mercy makes it possible to be humble. When we realize that we are wretched people who need to be saved, and know that we are living under the same grace as any other, it is easier for us to reflect the attitude of Christ. Therefore it is not self-confidence that we need, but salvation-confidence. Not self-deprication, but self-understanding.
So, preacher who I respect a lot, stop putting yourself down just because you know that your opinion isn't worth the weight of the world. And I'll do my best to set an example for those who look up to me too.
Wednesday, October 26, 2005
Media Manipulatives
The last thing any of us need is another person to tell us what to do. Everywhere we go in life, there seem to be bushels of unsolicited advice coming from everywhere and everyone--from your mother to your car, to your hairstylist or mechanic and everyone in between. We can get annoyed with these people, and we can shut them out. But there is another major source of opinions that we do not always recognize. It comes in the form of newspapers and magazines and film. Sometimes it comes out of the box you've set as the centerpiece for your living room motif, and sometimes it shouts at you from the grocery line. What I'm wondering is if people realize how much they are manipulated by the overload of media in our society?
Some days I wish it would all go away. Like out of sight out of mind. News travels fast through phones and letters these days; we would eventually hear what we needed to hear, form our own opinions, and discuss it with each other as respectable adults. But alas, the days of ignorance are over. Now, any politician so much as sneezes the wrong way and we hear about it for three weeks! It's ridiculous the way we feel like it's our right to know every nuaunce of information that passes through the hands of our society.
I'm not trying say that we should eliminate all news and advertizing from our lives. but being aware of how we are affected by them would be the first step in fixing what I consider to be a problem in our society. Why should three guys sitting in an office at a computer be able to dictate what we think about a natural disaster? Why does one guy whose scripts are written for him, get the credit of being a great commentator?
Now I realize that you'd argue that you aren't affected by tehse people, and that you form your own opinions on things. But how are you to even know what opinion to form when the very presentation of the news is tainted with media bias? Please don't fool yourself. We are all maneuvered by words. We live in a wordy society where stories and words change lives and attitudes. If your wife saying, "I love you," affects you before you leave for work, then Ted Coppel and Connie Chung can sure as heck affect your thinking too.
I don't know. I just get annoyed with people who think their opinion should be valued more than anyone else's, when it's something that they are equally as ignorant about. An expect or someone with good credentials may be worth listening to more.
Tonight I'm just feeling like there's no way to really know exactly what has happened in our country, let alone the rest of the world, because people seem to have an agenda with everything they do. Maybe it's unavoidable. But maybe people should do what they can to get all of the information they can before forming such vehement conclusions. And maybe I'm being too idealistic.
Some days I wish it would all go away. Like out of sight out of mind. News travels fast through phones and letters these days; we would eventually hear what we needed to hear, form our own opinions, and discuss it with each other as respectable adults. But alas, the days of ignorance are over. Now, any politician so much as sneezes the wrong way and we hear about it for three weeks! It's ridiculous the way we feel like it's our right to know every nuaunce of information that passes through the hands of our society.
I'm not trying say that we should eliminate all news and advertizing from our lives. but being aware of how we are affected by them would be the first step in fixing what I consider to be a problem in our society. Why should three guys sitting in an office at a computer be able to dictate what we think about a natural disaster? Why does one guy whose scripts are written for him, get the credit of being a great commentator?
Now I realize that you'd argue that you aren't affected by tehse people, and that you form your own opinions on things. But how are you to even know what opinion to form when the very presentation of the news is tainted with media bias? Please don't fool yourself. We are all maneuvered by words. We live in a wordy society where stories and words change lives and attitudes. If your wife saying, "I love you," affects you before you leave for work, then Ted Coppel and Connie Chung can sure as heck affect your thinking too.
I don't know. I just get annoyed with people who think their opinion should be valued more than anyone else's, when it's something that they are equally as ignorant about. An expect or someone with good credentials may be worth listening to more.
Tonight I'm just feeling like there's no way to really know exactly what has happened in our country, let alone the rest of the world, because people seem to have an agenda with everything they do. Maybe it's unavoidable. But maybe people should do what they can to get all of the information they can before forming such vehement conclusions. And maybe I'm being too idealistic.
Tuesday, October 25, 2005
Raking Inventions and other conspiracies
Thinking about conspiracies lately has gotten me into some strange thought patterns that I'd like to share. I am a friend of some conspiracy theorists, even related to many, and there is some kind of draw to that underground information in my brain and personality. It makes me want to believe it because it's counter to what the rest of the world is thyinking, and it challenges the status quo. Those are things I enjoy usually. But fret not. I have not jumped off the deep end yet.
I have decided that most of the things that happen in our lives that we don't agree with are the result of conspiracies. And conspiracies lead to more conspiracies. Let's take raking, for example. It's a conspiracy by s ome old people who wanted to hold off winter as long as possible. Their thinking is that if their yards still look like summer, then maybe everything else will follow suit. I don't think it worked, but look at all of the money gardening companies can make on poor saps who feel obligatedt o stand in their yard for three hours a week tediously piling up a carpet of leaves that were meant to fall and fertalize their grass. Now not only do they have to pay to go to a chiropractor, they also have to pay another company to come in and fertalize their lawns.
Someone took advantage of these folks' desire for warm weather. Maybe even more than one.
Here's another example (one I've been considering for quite some time): Flu vaccinations. We've gone for years having influenzia as a part of the winter season. Pepole get it, go to the doctor, get lots of sleep, vomit too many times to count, drink lots of fluids and it passes. All the sudden someone finds it necessary to invent a vaccination for the simple means of eliminating a small inconvinience. (I know, there's someone out there whose grandma died of influenzia, and I'm not downplaying that. There is a place for vaccinations.) But what I'm saying is that every Will, Joe and Harry don't need to go out and pay for a vaccination for a disease that they never had before and probably wouldn't have gotten anyway. It happened suddenly, covertly, and it's hard to get explanations out of people who should know more. That suggests conspiracy. Someone out there wanted to make money for a vaccination, so they some how convinced us that we need this drug shot into our veins. Five years ago, I don't remember anyone worrying about it. Am I crazy, or is there some kind of latent brainwashing happening disguised as "concern for health"?
And this strange and sudden influx of worry about the bird flu. What's up with that? I'm no MD, and I really don't have the first clue about these kinds of things, but have there been any cases of it yet, or is it just some kind of FDA-induced hysteria making people think they need the vaccination?
I didn't see a lot of credible information from either end. But I don't exactly trust the FDA or any of the other loonies that come up with these mass disease scares. Call me unwise, but I'm going to go and get a needless shot to prevent something that *might* happen, especially when they're cranking those things out like they do with such unproven tests and so little time to see if they're actually effective.
After reading a little from both ends of the discussion on whether or not to worry about the Avian flu, I've decided that it too is a giant conspiracy that even the crackpots on the internet haven't yet detected. I mean, what if the so-called vaccination is a couple of benign chemicals designed to do nothing but pull from our pocketbooks in order to fund the research and testing of other drugs? Or, worse yet, what if the "innoculation" has some other kind of checmical? One released only under certain circumstances? Some kind of mind-altering drug that, when combined with some airborne pathogen, causes people to act in a certian way favorable to the conspirators' plan. Maybe I just watch too many sci-fi, super hero movies. But it's something to wonder about, really. Is it possible for beurocrats to actually be concerned about our wellbeing?
You've gotta love these conspiracy theorists. It's too bad they're so far off the deep end. I wish one or two of them would look into finding out just exactly why the "government (fda)" is pushing for so many vaccinations, ignoring the potential side effects and strange results. I think that there's a great conspiracy in that alone, but what would I know. I'm just a kid at a computer with a big imagination.
I have decided that most of the things that happen in our lives that we don't agree with are the result of conspiracies. And conspiracies lead to more conspiracies. Let's take raking, for example. It's a conspiracy by s ome old people who wanted to hold off winter as long as possible. Their thinking is that if their yards still look like summer, then maybe everything else will follow suit. I don't think it worked, but look at all of the money gardening companies can make on poor saps who feel obligatedt o stand in their yard for three hours a week tediously piling up a carpet of leaves that were meant to fall and fertalize their grass. Now not only do they have to pay to go to a chiropractor, they also have to pay another company to come in and fertalize their lawns.
Someone took advantage of these folks' desire for warm weather. Maybe even more than one.
Here's another example (one I've been considering for quite some time): Flu vaccinations. We've gone for years having influenzia as a part of the winter season. Pepole get it, go to the doctor, get lots of sleep, vomit too many times to count, drink lots of fluids and it passes. All the sudden someone finds it necessary to invent a vaccination for the simple means of eliminating a small inconvinience. (I know, there's someone out there whose grandma died of influenzia, and I'm not downplaying that. There is a place for vaccinations.) But what I'm saying is that every Will, Joe and Harry don't need to go out and pay for a vaccination for a disease that they never had before and probably wouldn't have gotten anyway. It happened suddenly, covertly, and it's hard to get explanations out of people who should know more. That suggests conspiracy. Someone out there wanted to make money for a vaccination, so they some how convinced us that we need this drug shot into our veins. Five years ago, I don't remember anyone worrying about it. Am I crazy, or is there some kind of latent brainwashing happening disguised as "concern for health"?
And this strange and sudden influx of worry about the bird flu. What's up with that? I'm no MD, and I really don't have the first clue about these kinds of things, but have there been any cases of it yet, or is it just some kind of FDA-induced hysteria making people think they need the vaccination?
I didn't see a lot of credible information from either end. But I don't exactly trust the FDA or any of the other loonies that come up with these mass disease scares. Call me unwise, but I'm going to go and get a needless shot to prevent something that *might* happen, especially when they're cranking those things out like they do with such unproven tests and so little time to see if they're actually effective.
After reading a little from both ends of the discussion on whether or not to worry about the Avian flu, I've decided that it too is a giant conspiracy that even the crackpots on the internet haven't yet detected. I mean, what if the so-called vaccination is a couple of benign chemicals designed to do nothing but pull from our pocketbooks in order to fund the research and testing of other drugs? Or, worse yet, what if the "innoculation" has some other kind of checmical? One released only under certain circumstances? Some kind of mind-altering drug that, when combined with some airborne pathogen, causes people to act in a certian way favorable to the conspirators' plan. Maybe I just watch too many sci-fi, super hero movies. But it's something to wonder about, really. Is it possible for beurocrats to actually be concerned about our wellbeing?
You've gotta love these conspiracy theorists. It's too bad they're so far off the deep end. I wish one or two of them would look into finding out just exactly why the "government (fda)" is pushing for so many vaccinations, ignoring the potential side effects and strange results. I think that there's a great conspiracy in that alone, but what would I know. I'm just a kid at a computer with a big imagination.
Wednesday, September 21, 2005
I have no clue
The internet confuses me. That's all I have to say for now. I would write more but I have to go to work, and I don't want to fry my brain before I get there. Goodbye.
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