The Love of a Child

This little girl is the 2.5 year old daughter of a couple of my good friends from church. This evening, when I went over to their house for dinner, she made my night. As I walked up to the door, she was jumping up and down and clapping about my arrival. As soon as I entered the house, I just had to go and see her new big girl bed. She was quite proud of it. I was introduced to Baby Lucy and some other dolls and then I was asked if I had a big boy bed. I told her that, yes, I do have a big boy bed.

After awhile, her Mom (who is a few weeks away from having another child) asked the little girl to show me the gift that she (the little girl) would be giving to Baby Brother. It was a little palm tree with small slots for pictures as the branches. She went from branch to branch telling me who people were: Mama, Dad, Nanna and Papa, Grandpa, and herself. Then, she got this perplexed look on her face and said, “There’s no picture of Mr. Alan on here.” Then, I laughed pretty uncontrollably when her solution was, “We should take out Mama’s picture and put one in of Mr. Alan.” I told her that I was flattered, but that Mama’s picture should probably stay in there.

It was so great to experience that little girl’s love this evening. As far as she was concerned, I was part of the family, even if just for that moment or for the evening. As her Mom and Dad prepared dinner, we hung out, talked, played silly games, and simply enjoyed one another’s company. Tonight, that sweet girl pictured above taught me to sit back and enjoy simple camaraderie and friendship, and that sometimes it’s good to jump up and down and clap when you see somebody you love to be around.

The Shack, Jesus for President, and other et ceteras

First of all, thank you to everyone who touched base after my last blog post. I definitely felt the e-love. Just to prevent any wild speculations, I'm healthy, everyone in my family is healthy, I didn't lose my job, or anything like that. I'm simply suffering from an "I need a break" style broken heart. I'm definitely in a better place than when I last posted, but heartache is still heartache. So, anyway, don't fret too much on my behalf.

Second, I recently finished reading Jesus for President by Shane Claiborne. It's a great book that addresses some of the premises on which much of our nationalism, materialism, capitalism, patriotism, and even modern western Christianity are based. He lifts up "biblical values" like Jubilee, Justice, Non-Violence, Sharing, and Enemy Love, just to name a few. Claiborne has a way of convicting me of my own failures in living out that pesky Sermon on the Mount, without making me feel hopeless about my condition. I may get in to some specific stuff when I have the book in front of me, and more time and brain cells. I do struggle, though, with how to apply some of Claiborne's practices in my context. While I admire his choice to move to an urban area and practice intentional community in search for justice, I wonder how I, a pastor in suburban, affluent, homogeneous, Williamson County, America am called to proclaim justice, jubilee, enemy love, and a radical realignment of the social order. Simply standing in the pulpit and proclaiming these values doesn't seem very fair to those who don't have the chance to respond, except for the brief moments on the way out the door (that whole ritual is worth another blog post).

OK, this post is getting long, but I'm also reading The Shack by William P. Young. It's basically a story of how an encounter with God helps a man get free from many of the things that keep him from living a joyful, grateful life of relationship with God. The book has been getting some press, and I'm eager to hear what other folks are thinking about it.

Thankful

Today I'm thankful for good friends...you know, the ones who will respond to your bad news by saying, "Let's get together...tonight...we mean it."

The kind of friends who will listen if you want to talk about it, but can also tell when you don't really want to talk about it and just want to be in the company of people whose lives of joy can draw you, if only briefly, out of the gloomy cloud in which you sit.

Friends who know that you love Fat Tire and 1554 and offer to share the big bottle with you because they know that you're a slow drinker and the beer would probably get warm before you finish it.

Friends who offer to split as many appetizers as it takes for you to not be hungry because you went for a run and didn't have time to eat, and because there's a pit in your stomach the size of Cleveland.

Friends who will still give you a hard time and treat you like a real person, even though they know that you're feeling fragile and hurt and confused and overwhelmed.

Friends who invite you to come over and watch movies so you don't have to be alone with your thoughts.

Yeah, I'm thankful for friends like that today.

I can be such a hypocrite

On numerous occasions, I've gone on tirades about the lack of quality public transportation and/or bike paths in the city of Nashville and surrounding areas. I go on and on about how I would use such facilities if they existed. Well, on Thursday, after work, I had to return something to Radio Shack, buy something at Best Buy, and then run by a music store to buy a book to help me learn how to play the mandolin that I bought the other day. Anyway, at each stop along the way, I was confronted with a Franklin Transit Authority Trolley Stop sign. Yes, I could have reached each destination along the way on the trolley, and with minimal walking from the stop to the store, I might add. In addition, that morning, when I went to breakfast at one of my favorite local haunts, I could totally have ridden my bike the 2 miles, but did I? No, I hopped in my car and was half way there before I even thought anything of it. For all of my talk about environmentalism, I can be a total hypocrite sometimes. I've decided that, from now on, unless time is a major factor, as in, I totally forgot to go get something and I need it in 10 minutes, I'm going to do my best to use the minimal public transportation in the Franklin/Brentwood/Cool Springs area. From what I hear, I may be the only one on the trolley, but at least that'll be one less car wasting a gallon of gas to go and feed the consumerist beast inside of me.

Absurd bumper sticker of the month

I actually took this picture over a month ago, but just rediscovered it in my picture gallery. I came across it in the Publix parking lot. As I was standing there with my camera taking a picture of this stupid bumper sticker, I kept hoping that the owner wouldn't come out and think that I was taking a picture because I liked it. That would have led to the awkward, "Actually I think it's utterly ridiculous, and so are you" conversation. OK, I probably wouldn't tell them they were ridiculous...only the bumper sticker.


Besides the incorrect grammar (you know, the random comma in the middle), this bumper sticker indicates a quite small minded individual. I'm sure this person voted to ban gay marriage, because, you know, gay people are responsible for destroying the American family. Therefore, every gay person who is in a loving, committed, faithful relationship can't possibly fulfill the first of only two possible ways to stop AIDS. But, I digress. I wonder if the proud displayer of this bumper sticker has any perspective on the AIDS epidemic in Africa? How about broadening the possible options for helping to prevent AIDS, like practicing safe sex, or funding research to destroy AIDS (because, not all of us ready to get married just to do our part to help stop AIDS).

I suppose my big frustration is with people who think a complex problem like the spread of AIDS could be solved if people would simply heed the advice of a two-fold plan promoted in a bumper sticker.

Anyway, there's my absurd bumper sticker for the month.

A visit from Jimmy and Anna

A few weeks ago, my sister, Anna, and her husband, Jimmy came to visit. I thought I'd post some pictures from our time together. It was really great having them visit. While they were here, Jimmy took a look at my the power line coming to my dishwasher. I hadn't been able to use it for over a year, because there was no power getting to it. Well, in an evening, Jimmy installed a new power outlet and installed a regular plug on the dishwasher so I could use it again. He's the man. Anyway, here are some pics:

Slugs

Yesterday morning, I heard this piece on NPR's Morning Edition: Slugging to Work

For those of you who don't want to go read the whole article or listen to the segment, the basic gist is that in Washington, D.C. there is a system of car-pooling called "Slugging." The "slugs" wait in a line, and folks who want to be able to drive in the HOV lane pull up and call out where they're headed. The first slug in line who is going there hops in and they ride together. Here was the kicker for me: They don't share names, personal information, or really engage in any sort of meaningful conversation.

When I finished listening to the segment on the radio, I felt sad. As the report mentions, there are people spending hours of their lives in the confined space of a car with other people and they aren't connecting on any level deeper than a slug connects to a piece of driftwood as it floats down the river. While I understand the realities of a world where people have limited time for relationships, I think I'd have a hard time being a slug.

So, I wondered later, why is that any different than riding the bus or on a plane while listening to my ipod and reading The Atlantic? Somehow it feels different, especially if it's just the driver and the slug in the car together. What kind of meaningful relationship opportunities could be lost because of rules of disengagement?

Anyway, the story made me sad.