Curtains still drawn.
Bedclothes in a knot.
Abandoned water bottle.
Wrappings from toiletries on the floor.
Mismatched sandals.
Spring break is over.
I fasten back the curtains letting in the morning light.
Strip the bed.
Gather the water bottle.
Discard the wrappings.
Push the sandals under the bed
Awaiting his return.
Take a walk in the quiet morning air.
Counsel a young couple.
Gather groceries for those still here.
Watch my other pitcher in his opening scrimmage.
Dine with friends.
Sleep soundly.
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
Monday, March 21, 2011
Gone
Curtains still drawn.
Bedclothes in a knot.
Abandoned water bottle.
Wrappings from toiletries on the floor.
Mismatched sandals.
Spring break is over.
I fasten back the curtains letting in the morning light.
Strip the bed.
Gather the water bottle.
Discard the wrappings.
Push the sandals under the bed.
Awaiting his return.
Bedclothes in a knot.
Abandoned water bottle.
Wrappings from toiletries on the floor.
Mismatched sandals.
Spring break is over.
I fasten back the curtains letting in the morning light.
Strip the bed.
Gather the water bottle.
Discard the wrappings.
Push the sandals under the bed.
Awaiting his return.
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Parents
No one (except God) loves unconditionally like a parent.
Children love their parents, and as they grow older children appreciate parents, and are more tolerant of their foibles, but they still feel annoyed with the parts of their parents that are in some way, well...annoying.
Parents feel some responsibility for their offspring, even their foibles, either by genes or environment, so they are more accepting of those shortcomings, more willing to overlook. When children are still growing up, parents do their best to moderate their children's weaknesses, but at some point when they are full grown, parents hopefully release that project and love them despite those pieces.
Spouses love by choice, but they tend to always be still trying to fix their significant other, thinking that surely this could be better.
So today especially, on St. Patrick's Day, I miss my Irish parents and their unconditional love for me.
Children love their parents, and as they grow older children appreciate parents, and are more tolerant of their foibles, but they still feel annoyed with the parts of their parents that are in some way, well...annoying.
Parents feel some responsibility for their offspring, even their foibles, either by genes or environment, so they are more accepting of those shortcomings, more willing to overlook. When children are still growing up, parents do their best to moderate their children's weaknesses, but at some point when they are full grown, parents hopefully release that project and love them despite those pieces.
Spouses love by choice, but they tend to always be still trying to fix their significant other, thinking that surely this could be better.
So today especially, on St. Patrick's Day, I miss my Irish parents and their unconditional love for me.
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Blogging and Podcasting
When I started a blog, I was determined not to be one of those people who never put up fresh stuff. On the other hand, I also didn't want to take too much time to blog compared to other priorities.
If I could set myself up to dictate blogs while driving and other moments, I'd be much more prolific. I often write blogs in my head that never get any further.
But meanwhile, I always write sermons, every week pretty much, and have been posting those online. So if you're interested, here's my latest, and you can see a list of previous ones:
http://wcfmc.podomatic.com/entry/2011-01-20T12_40_55-08_00
If I could set myself up to dictate blogs while driving and other moments, I'd be much more prolific. I often write blogs in my head that never get any further.
But meanwhile, I always write sermons, every week pretty much, and have been posting those online. So if you're interested, here's my latest, and you can see a list of previous ones:
http://wcfmc.podomatic.com/entry/2011-01-20T12_40_55-08_00
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Farewell to Hot Chocolate
In 2007 while on sabbatical I flew enough to gain special status. This was especially appreciated the following spring. Nora flew to NYC for her semester there with 2 checked bags. Then the airlines changed their baggage policy. Roger and I met her there to see her art show and help her move home. As a preferred flyer I was able to check her luggage for free.
Since then I have not flown enough to maintain that status. However this year I gained gold status at Starbucks. They sent me a gold card with my name on it because I bought so many cups of hot chocolate.
I am thrilled by such special attention. Great marketing.
Recently I detoxed my system and discovered that hot chocolate gives me headaches. You can't imagine how much I depend on this comforting drink during the long dreary days of winter.
I am so grateful for how energetic I have felt lately, that has to outweigh the savoring of a drink that leaves me aching the next morning. But o what a loss! My Starbucks gold status has already been assured for another year, but alas, after that, I think it will fall by the way of airline privileges. At least I hope so.
Since then I have not flown enough to maintain that status. However this year I gained gold status at Starbucks. They sent me a gold card with my name on it because I bought so many cups of hot chocolate.
I am thrilled by such special attention. Great marketing.
Recently I detoxed my system and discovered that hot chocolate gives me headaches. You can't imagine how much I depend on this comforting drink during the long dreary days of winter.
I am so grateful for how energetic I have felt lately, that has to outweigh the savoring of a drink that leaves me aching the next morning. But o what a loss! My Starbucks gold status has already been assured for another year, but alas, after that, I think it will fall by the way of airline privileges. At least I hope so.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Competition
Last week I had the privilege of attending events at the World Equestrian Games. During the jumping competition, contestants are penalized for knocking down any part of a fence, refusing to jump, or going over the time limit.
The first several horses received faults, mostly for knocking down rails on fences. Finally a horse ran the course clear, and the crowd responded with thunderous applause. After some individual jumpers, we entered the team competition.
Each of 10 teams had 4 riders, and the US came in to the evening in third place. As each horse and rider traversed the course, the crowd held its breath, willing the horses to clear the jumps. With no music or commentary, the venue remained silent for the 84 seconds allotted each round. If a horse did hit a jump, a collective sigh rose from the crowd. If the horse seemed to falter and risk falling, the crowd gasped involuntarily.
After each round, the applause rose immediately following the final jump, regardless of the country of the rider. Our US team had some disastrous rounds, and dropped to 10th in the competition. Yet despite the audience being mostly American, they clapped for each competitor, as if they were rooting for the horses to succeed, despite nationality. And of course, the horses have no idea of national loyalty anyway.
I love my Kentucky Wildcats and my Cincinnati Reds, and enjoy rooting for them. Part of the typical ballgame experience is rooting against the competition. Yet the absence of that kind of malice at this event refreshed me. I enjoyed just encouraging all the competitors instead of disdaining the "enemy."
Would that life had more such moments.
The first several horses received faults, mostly for knocking down rails on fences. Finally a horse ran the course clear, and the crowd responded with thunderous applause. After some individual jumpers, we entered the team competition.
Each of 10 teams had 4 riders, and the US came in to the evening in third place. As each horse and rider traversed the course, the crowd held its breath, willing the horses to clear the jumps. With no music or commentary, the venue remained silent for the 84 seconds allotted each round. If a horse did hit a jump, a collective sigh rose from the crowd. If the horse seemed to falter and risk falling, the crowd gasped involuntarily.
After each round, the applause rose immediately following the final jump, regardless of the country of the rider. Our US team had some disastrous rounds, and dropped to 10th in the competition. Yet despite the audience being mostly American, they clapped for each competitor, as if they were rooting for the horses to succeed, despite nationality. And of course, the horses have no idea of national loyalty anyway.
I love my Kentucky Wildcats and my Cincinnati Reds, and enjoy rooting for them. Part of the typical ballgame experience is rooting against the competition. Yet the absence of that kind of malice at this event refreshed me. I enjoyed just encouraging all the competitors instead of disdaining the "enemy."
Would that life had more such moments.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Loyalties
My friend Dennis and his third and last child Becca had to discuss her options for college related to Dennis' wardrobe. Would Becca's dad wear Tennessee orange? No, he had to admit he couldn't do that.
You see Dennis and I both grew up in the Bluegrass state, and most of the commonwealth bleeds blue, with the exception of that small corner that should just push itself over the Ohio River into Indiana.
Growing up blue makes it hard to even think about wearing Tennessee orange, Duke's version of blue, and never Cardinal red.
My daughters both attended Wheaton, a division 3 school, not a competitor in the big dance, so I wear their alma mater shirts with pride. My first son Luke decided to make wearing Kentucky blue a full-time occupation, so that was easy. The best part of visiting UK on a college visit was both of us stocking up on new shirts while in Lexington. Neither of Dennis' older daughter's attended a division 1 school, so he has worn their college spirit wear willingly as well.
Now my last child Wesley is considering Illinois, Purdue, Georgia Tech, IIT and Johns Hopkins. JHU and IIT are division 3 schools, so no conflict there. To make it worse, the color of Illinois is orange, and Ga Tech is yellow, two colors that do not exist in my wardrobe, and for good reason, not in my family of colors at all.
So, how do we choose a college? Should Dennis and I get to pick for our offspring based on the implications for spirit wear for the next four years and beyond?
Some of you are thinking this is the silliest thing you've ever heard, that's the reaction I got from one friend. And at one level, you are absolutely right. I truly want Wesley to go to the best possible college he can, and the one he most prefers, regardless of any preferences I have about the clothing commitment controversy.
The problem is, I'm Irish. Sounds silly. But it did help me to learn about my heritage that fierce loyalty is a common trait. I would feel a sense of divided loyalties and almost betrayal not wearing Kentucky blue, but at least Wesley isn't considering Tennessee or Louisville.
In this case, I must bend my loyalties for colleges to a wider and deeper arc of loyalty to my son, and support what he cares about.
Yet I am glad for the part of my personality that makes me so fiercely loyal. Though sometimes misguided, that same faithful doggedness keeps me engaged with my family, and hopefully with my God.
In a sense every day I am supposed to don the spirit of Christ. That should be my clothing, and what everyone sees when they look at me. I should be many times more adamant in my loyalty to that attire than any other garment. When I am challenged to adopt the popular fashion of the world, and by that I mean more than physical clothing, I should protest and remain clothed only in Christ. Would that as I dress myself each morning, I would remember this underlying truth.
You see Dennis and I both grew up in the Bluegrass state, and most of the commonwealth bleeds blue, with the exception of that small corner that should just push itself over the Ohio River into Indiana.
Growing up blue makes it hard to even think about wearing Tennessee orange, Duke's version of blue, and never Cardinal red.
My daughters both attended Wheaton, a division 3 school, not a competitor in the big dance, so I wear their alma mater shirts with pride. My first son Luke decided to make wearing Kentucky blue a full-time occupation, so that was easy. The best part of visiting UK on a college visit was both of us stocking up on new shirts while in Lexington. Neither of Dennis' older daughter's attended a division 1 school, so he has worn their college spirit wear willingly as well.
Now my last child Wesley is considering Illinois, Purdue, Georgia Tech, IIT and Johns Hopkins. JHU and IIT are division 3 schools, so no conflict there. To make it worse, the color of Illinois is orange, and Ga Tech is yellow, two colors that do not exist in my wardrobe, and for good reason, not in my family of colors at all.
So, how do we choose a college? Should Dennis and I get to pick for our offspring based on the implications for spirit wear for the next four years and beyond?
Some of you are thinking this is the silliest thing you've ever heard, that's the reaction I got from one friend. And at one level, you are absolutely right. I truly want Wesley to go to the best possible college he can, and the one he most prefers, regardless of any preferences I have about the clothing commitment controversy.
The problem is, I'm Irish. Sounds silly. But it did help me to learn about my heritage that fierce loyalty is a common trait. I would feel a sense of divided loyalties and almost betrayal not wearing Kentucky blue, but at least Wesley isn't considering Tennessee or Louisville.
In this case, I must bend my loyalties for colleges to a wider and deeper arc of loyalty to my son, and support what he cares about.
Yet I am glad for the part of my personality that makes me so fiercely loyal. Though sometimes misguided, that same faithful doggedness keeps me engaged with my family, and hopefully with my God.
In a sense every day I am supposed to don the spirit of Christ. That should be my clothing, and what everyone sees when they look at me. I should be many times more adamant in my loyalty to that attire than any other garment. When I am challenged to adopt the popular fashion of the world, and by that I mean more than physical clothing, I should protest and remain clothed only in Christ. Would that as I dress myself each morning, I would remember this underlying truth.
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