paravanes:meditations

I never attended summer camp while growing up. I grew up in a big city, Detroit. No one I knew ever attended summer camp. We spent our summer vacations at home and time in July or August was spent driving south to visit grandparents and other relatives. But my summers were always filled with fresh air. At home, my mother maintained a beautiful rose garden in our backyard. The garden took a little less than a quarter of our large yard. I spent time with her while she weeded the garden, watered it, and used her fingers to bump aphids off of the rose petals. At other times, she used bug sprays to kill pests that would have damaged her plants. The borders of our yard were filled with hollyhocks, shrubs, and other plants. As I followed her through her garden, she explained why roses were delicate plants and required detailed, tender care. At other times during the summer, we hung our freshly washed laundry out to dry. (I'm really dating myself here). On a sunny day, I would run through

"My sheep listen to my voice; I know them and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish; no one can snatch them out of my hand." - Jesus, in John 10:27, 28 Every few years, it seems, a book with a title like "How to Listen to God" is published. Someone writes a book, usually a book of less than 200 pages, in which is explained a formula or method for hearing from God. Sometimes these books are bestsellers and sometimes you can find multiple copies on sale for one dollar each at the local used bookshop. I don't trust those types of books, though I don't doubt the sincerity of many who write about such things. Writing a book with a title like "How to Listen to God" or "How to Hear from God" is very much like writing a book titled "How to Hear from Your Best Friend" or "How to Understand Your Father or Mother When They Speak." Now, you might say, "I can physically see my friend" or &q

Years ago, I stumbled across the resolutions of Jonathan Edwards . Although I appreciated the sentiment behind some of them, I really wondered if anyone could keep up with this vast array of commitments without becoming severely obsessive. I never lost my love for resolutions, because they reinforced in my mind the need to measure progress and try something new. My resolutions usually emerged around my birthday (September), not in January. Still, a new year is upon us again and while browsing my local public library, I found a wonderful compilation of the works of Toni Cade Bambara . One piece, titled The Education of a Storyteller , summarizes the necessity of speaking up: "and my mama--not one to traffic in metaphors usually, being a very scientific woman--would add: 'Yeah, speak your speak, 'cause every silence you maintain is liable to become first a lump in your throat, then a lump in your lymphatic system.'" What I like best about this quote is the focus on

Five years ago, I listened to an audiobook version of Eartha Kitt's book, Rejuvenate, It's Never Too Late . Kitt was born two years before my mother and outlived her by five. These two women shared few similarities, but I learned a lot about how to live life on one's own terms by listening to Kitt's story. Most interesting were her perspectives on growing old(er) and staying physically and mentally energized. Although Kitt made some life choices that don't agree with some of my values, I appreciated her determination to view herself as a human person, first and foremost. Although she did not deny her heritage, she struggled to keep others from limiting her dreams and aspirations based on her color and class background. Kitt traveled widely during the 1950s and 1960s and I enjoyed listening to her accounts of requesting and obtaining meetings with world leaders and opinion makers, including Einstein. She learned something from all of these people, and shared these in

I have a two week break from my regular work schedule, so I have a little more time to blog and a little more time to think. At this time of year, I usually reflect on what has happened during the year and what I am looking forward to in the year to come. In the spirit of holiday humor, I realize there are some things that keep me scratching my head and wondering. There are some things I don't get. 1) Earlier this year, economists and their ilk told us (Americans) we were wrong not to save more of our incomes. Those of us who didn't regularly save a certain percentage of our income were berated for spending too much and not saving enough. Now, we are being told to spend, spend, SPEND in order to beef up the economy and kill the recession. I know that makes sense to somebody, but I don't get it. 2) George W. Bush is used to somebody throwing stuff at him! Is there any other explanation for his cat-like responses to the recent Iraqi reporter shoe throwing incident? Isn't

"Dear God, please take anything out of me that isn't just like You." It's a good prayer, but be careful when you say it. I have prayed this prayer twice in the last sixty days, in moments when I felt my bad self getting the better of my good self. I don't doubt my prayer was answered, but something that felt catastrophic always followed that prayer. Earlier today, I prayed. I said "Dear God, please take anything out of me that isn't just like You." I went merrily on my way: shopping, running errands, eating lunch, just enjoying a nice day away from work and the normal routines. Lo, and behold: I got home, opened my mail, and found a letter that rocked my world---just temporarily--but rocked it nonetheless. What is my point? The process of being transformed is serious business. It digs deeply into the core of who we think we are and who we truly are. (You don't think those two are the same, do you?) Nothing is off limits when God works to re-make

Today, an announcement from the White House gave some relief to those wondering about the future of the domestic auto industry. But did the announcement bring the comfort of certainty? What will happen in the spring? Will the companies succeed in re-creating themselves? Is the bail-out just a time-buyer, allowing workers, small businesses, managers, and others to get used to the idea that their jobs and incomes may go away forever? Even if you don't live in the industrial midwest (aka the "rustbelt"), know for sure that if tens of thousands of jobs are lost in domestic manufacturing, you will feel a pinch and maybe a lot of pain down the road. Only in God can I find the comfort of certainty. To be honest, change is scary. No matter how many times some wise old soul tries to tell me to embrace change and "see possibility and opportunity", I tell myself about all of the possibilities and opportunities I saw in having a regular paycheck, health care benefits, and a

"Have you learned lessons only of those who admired you, and were tender with you, and stood aside for you? Have you not learned great lessons from those who braced themselves against you, and disputed the passage with you?" -- Walt Whitman "Praise be to the LORD my Rock, who trains my hands for war, my fingers for battle. He is my loving God and my fortress, my stronghold and my deliverer, my shield, in whom I take refuge, who subdues peoples under me." -- Psalm 144:1,2 (NIV) I am reminding myself of how God uses offensive people and situations to teach and polish me. On one of my favorite blogs, What About Our Daughters? , a recent post described a worship service in a Detroit church. Three large SUVs were placed in the church's pulpit and those in attendance prayed for the U.S. Congress to save the American auto industry from unwanted changes and a possible demise. Well, for the record, I am in favor of saving the Big 3. The industry needs serious restructur

Something to stop and say a prayer about . You know someone living with HIV/AIDS. They're not homeless, unless you know a lot of homeless people. Someone living with HIV/AIDS looks just like you . She's the married woman whose husband cheated one time too many. He's the high school student who still thinks it's cool to get as many girls as possible. She's the single woman trading sex for money to pay a gambling debt. He's the community leader who has a secret habit. She's the tween who plays sex games that can't get her pregnant. He's the senior citizen who grew up in the days when you "got a shot for the clap" and didn't have to worry anymore. She's the college student who doesn't remember what happened after last weekend's party. You know someone living with HIV/AIDS. They're not homeless, unless you know a lot of homeless people.