Summer is definitely here, although it's been cool enough so far. Last week the yard was full of butterflies, and we never could figure out what had attracted them to our yard. But really, who cares? We just enjoyed watching them explore with delicate grace.
********
Last night we went to see the new Indiana Jones movie. (I guess it's not so new any more!) It was fun, and we were impressed with all the 1950s scene-setting at the beginning. There were more than a few thrilling moments, but we came away ever so slightly disappointed.
After we talked it over thoroughly, we came up with three things we thought weren't quite right about the movie: Cate Blanchett didn't make a convincing villain – she was more like a cartoon character, specifically Natasha from the old Rocky and Bullwinkle show. And trying to figure out a mystery involving space visitors, even the inter-space kind, is not quite the same as outsmarting the Nazis. Finally, we missed the sweeping John Williams music that defined the atmosphere of the other Indy movies – the old theme music was still there, but somehow muted for most of the movie, and if there was any new music it didn't make much of an impression on us.
Still it was fun to go along for the ride, and there were enough tense, exciting moments to keep me on the edge of my seat (although I couldn't watch the snake scene.) I loved the way they used Indy's hat, and I loved the kid!
And – we were there in time to see all 87 trailers for coming attractions . . .anyone want to go see the new Mummy movie?
Monday, June 30, 2008
Thursday, June 26, 2008
An Evening of Shakespeare . . . Sort Of
We just got back from an evening at the Illinois Shakespeare Festival, where a cast of three performed The Complete Works of William Shakespeare (Abridged). We're still laughing, and I suspect we will be laughing a lot, for a long time -- whenever we think of this crazy production.
Mark D. Hines, David Kortemeier, and Thomas Anthony Quinn offer a refined (sort of . . . not) take on 36 plus 1 plays, and even some of Shakespeare's sonnets (if you sit in the right seat and read really really fast) while changing costumes, sets, and lines. This production involves campers, audience participation, and country music, all put to good use as they offer a breathtaking look at some of the best (as well as some of the not-so-best) work of William Shakespeare -- breathtaking in the sense of "I can't believe they just said (did) that."
If you get a chance to catch this production -- or any of the other plays at this year's refreshed and refreshing festival -- run, don't walk. It's worth the effort! You can check out dates and times here.
Mark D. Hines, David Kortemeier, and Thomas Anthony Quinn offer a refined (sort of . . . not) take on 36 plus 1 plays, and even some of Shakespeare's sonnets (if you sit in the right seat and read really really fast) while changing costumes, sets, and lines. This production involves campers, audience participation, and country music, all put to good use as they offer a breathtaking look at some of the best (as well as some of the not-so-best) work of William Shakespeare -- breathtaking in the sense of "I can't believe they just said (did) that."
If you get a chance to catch this production -- or any of the other plays at this year's refreshed and refreshing festival -- run, don't walk. It's worth the effort! You can check out dates and times here.
Monday, June 23, 2008
On Living . . .
Randy Pausch is dying of pancreatic cancer. He is, at the same time, living as full a life as he possibly can, investing in the people around him, including his students, colleagues, and friends, but especially his wife Jai and his three children, Dylan, Logan, and Chloe.
His book, The Last Lecture, has become a phenomenon. The book is based on a lecture he gave at Carnegie Mellon University, where he is Professor of Computer Science, Human Computer Interaction, and Design. You can watch Professor Pausch deliver The Last Lecture on You Tube here. The video lasts 76 minutes, but it's time well spent.
The book, published by Hyperion Books, covers the same material as the lecture. Pausch talks about the importance of dreams, especially childhood dreams, and how to achieve them. Along the way he creates yet one more record for his family about how he chooses to live his life.
His choices are instructive for all the rest of us, too. He talks about basic, decent things, but he talks about them with a sense of fun and playfulness. He takes life – but not himself – seriously.
That doesn't mean he downplays his diagnosis. He is dying. His time is limited. He's going to miss most of his children's growing up, and he's going to miss growing old with his beloved Jai. He gets it.
But that doesn't mean he's been had by death. This last lecture isn't about death; it's about life, and how all of us might live it with more honor, more fun, more intentionality.
Reading this book has touched my heart. For everyone who's had a dream – or wanted to have one – Professor Pausch has a lot to teach us about how to achieve that dream, and how to dream the next one.
His book, The Last Lecture, has become a phenomenon. The book is based on a lecture he gave at Carnegie Mellon University, where he is Professor of Computer Science, Human Computer Interaction, and Design. You can watch Professor Pausch deliver The Last Lecture on You Tube here. The video lasts 76 minutes, but it's time well spent.
The book, published by Hyperion Books, covers the same material as the lecture. Pausch talks about the importance of dreams, especially childhood dreams, and how to achieve them. Along the way he creates yet one more record for his family about how he chooses to live his life.
His choices are instructive for all the rest of us, too. He talks about basic, decent things, but he talks about them with a sense of fun and playfulness. He takes life – but not himself – seriously.
That doesn't mean he downplays his diagnosis. He is dying. His time is limited. He's going to miss most of his children's growing up, and he's going to miss growing old with his beloved Jai. He gets it.
But that doesn't mean he's been had by death. This last lecture isn't about death; it's about life, and how all of us might live it with more honor, more fun, more intentionality.
Reading this book has touched my heart. For everyone who's had a dream – or wanted to have one – Professor Pausch has a lot to teach us about how to achieve that dream, and how to dream the next one.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Fox in the Garden
This morning I finally got outside to plant flowers.
It's been a busy spring with such contrary weather that I hadn't done much gardening yet; nothing more than necessary. Today, though, I tucked snapdragons, petunias, and marigolds into bare spots in the flower bed, and put parsley and basil and scented geraniums into pots. It was wonderful!
While I was working, the man who mows my neighbor's lawn began work, mowing closer and closer to where I was working. As he drew near the boundary between our lawns, just a few feet away from me on the other side of the lilac and hydrangea bushes who should appear but the little red fox who's been frequenting our neighborhood!
Evidently he didn't like the noise of the lawnmower, as he trotted halfway across the yard, stopped, and turned around to see what it was making so much noise. He noticed me but didn't seem to mind as we were some distance apart.
I'd seen him the other afternoon, slipping by under the living room windows, and disappearing into the bushes at the side of the house. I'm starting to think he's living there.
I don't know much about foxes (other than what I learned from The Gingerbread Boy) but I think I'll learn.
It's been a busy spring with such contrary weather that I hadn't done much gardening yet; nothing more than necessary. Today, though, I tucked snapdragons, petunias, and marigolds into bare spots in the flower bed, and put parsley and basil and scented geraniums into pots. It was wonderful!
While I was working, the man who mows my neighbor's lawn began work, mowing closer and closer to where I was working. As he drew near the boundary between our lawns, just a few feet away from me on the other side of the lilac and hydrangea bushes who should appear but the little red fox who's been frequenting our neighborhood!
Evidently he didn't like the noise of the lawnmower, as he trotted halfway across the yard, stopped, and turned around to see what it was making so much noise. He noticed me but didn't seem to mind as we were some distance apart.
I'd seen him the other afternoon, slipping by under the living room windows, and disappearing into the bushes at the side of the house. I'm starting to think he's living there.
I don't know much about foxes (other than what I learned from The Gingerbread Boy) but I think I'll learn.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Tamarack, West Virginia
This has turned into a busy month!
I was scrolling through photographs we took on vacation, and I was reminded of one of my favorite “travelling through” places in Beckley, West Virginia.
Tamarack is set back behind a travel center just outside Beckley. It was built to showcase West Virginia arts and crafts. Does it ever succeed!
When you get out of your car you can tell this is an unusual place. The building itself looks like a crown set on a hill. Outdoor metal sculptures invite inspection and encourage you to explore further. Once you get inside you'll find work space for visiting artists-in-residence, as well as quilts, furniture, glassware, food, wine, embroidery and other needle arts, fine arts, books, music – it's a feast for your senses, and a lot of fun.
It's one of the neatest places we've ever stopped on vacation, but the best part is the food court, managed by chefs from The Greenbrier. The food is incredibly good and very reasonably priced. The Greenbrier peaches are worth the trip! You can learn more, and even shop, at their website: http://www.tamarackwv.com. You won't be sorry you stopped by!
Thursday, June 5, 2008
Books Make a Good Day!
This morning was catch-up at my desk, and this afternoon was shop for June celebrations – birthdays, anniversaries, Father's Day – a long time at the card shop, then shop-hopping round town, stopping at the Children's Discovery Museum (they have an awesome gift shop, filled with cool toys) then treating myself to a quick stop at Babbitt's Books, my favorite used-book store.
Rachelle Gardner blogged about bookstores recently on her blog at http://cba-ramblings.blogspot.com/. Babbitt's doesn't serve coffee, just piles and piles of books. Recently they moved to a beautiful new store, high ceilings, tall bookcases, and for a brief time all the books were on the shelves. When I went in today it looked as if the shelves had exploded; books were everywhere! It's my favorite way to see Babbitt's!
I only had a few minutes, so I went straight to the children's book section. They had A Child's Garden of Verses, illustrated by Gyo Fujikawa which I picked up, and a book outside on the half-price rack that was published by Abingdon, for kids – stories, activities, and recipes – that I also grabbed. I can't wait to look it over; it's an older book. Some might call it dated; I call it a look at the past.
A day with books is a good day!
Rachelle Gardner blogged about bookstores recently on her blog at http://cba-ramblings.blogspot.com/. Babbitt's doesn't serve coffee, just piles and piles of books. Recently they moved to a beautiful new store, high ceilings, tall bookcases, and for a brief time all the books were on the shelves. When I went in today it looked as if the shelves had exploded; books were everywhere! It's my favorite way to see Babbitt's!
I only had a few minutes, so I went straight to the children's book section. They had A Child's Garden of Verses, illustrated by Gyo Fujikawa which I picked up, and a book outside on the half-price rack that was published by Abingdon, for kids – stories, activities, and recipes – that I also grabbed. I can't wait to look it over; it's an older book. Some might call it dated; I call it a look at the past.
A day with books is a good day!
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
Stormy Weather
Wow! How much longer can it storm like this?
I seem to have a talent for driving into severe storms, and I hate driving in hard rain. Last night as I was driving home the lightning flashed more and more intensely, until finally it seemed like a light someone had turned on. If I'd been willing to stop on the shoulder, I could have read a book!
As it was, I balanced slower, gas-saving driving with my great desire to get home before the storm actually hit, and made it home just a few minutes before the rain began pelting down.
Today it's been cloudy, breezy, warm, and now sunny, but there is a possibility of – you guessed it – storms later on.
How like life this is – some seasons seem to be one storm after another; it takes faith to keep going in the hope of getting home safely.
It makes me appreciate good weather all the more!
I seem to have a talent for driving into severe storms, and I hate driving in hard rain. Last night as I was driving home the lightning flashed more and more intensely, until finally it seemed like a light someone had turned on. If I'd been willing to stop on the shoulder, I could have read a book!
As it was, I balanced slower, gas-saving driving with my great desire to get home before the storm actually hit, and made it home just a few minutes before the rain began pelting down.
Today it's been cloudy, breezy, warm, and now sunny, but there is a possibility of – you guessed it – storms later on.
How like life this is – some seasons seem to be one storm after another; it takes faith to keep going in the hope of getting home safely.
It makes me appreciate good weather all the more!
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
To Be Christian . . .
I like reading Eugene Peterson.
He is a pastor, a teacher, an example of a Christian life lived with integrity, joy, and passion. His work challenges me, sometimes makes me laugh, and always makes me feel better about the faith I want to live.
In his book The Contemplative Pastor, Peterson talks about becoming a subversive pastor. He isn't talking about subverting anything more or less than the human heart.
It's necessary because so often, we think our hearts are fine. We “think the church is already the kingdom of God . . . ” and we are often surprised to find it isn't! We forget the church is made up of men and women who are still too much in the world, too much of the world.
We don't want to give up our familiarity with all the world we see has to offer – its entertainments, its fashions, its opinions – but then we wonder why, as Christians, we aren't more, well, Christian.
Peterson suggests a good pastor will subvert such a heart, come at it with prayer and parable, hoping to somehow remind us that the real world, the one that matters most, is not the one we see, but the one God calls us to create right here where we live, in the midst of the world we see.
Prayer and parable – being in conversation with God, and listening to His stories – call us to turn away from what is shallow, what is fleeting, what is worth-less, and turn to what is lovely, what is true, and noble, and pure.
He is a pastor, a teacher, an example of a Christian life lived with integrity, joy, and passion. His work challenges me, sometimes makes me laugh, and always makes me feel better about the faith I want to live.
In his book The Contemplative Pastor, Peterson talks about becoming a subversive pastor. He isn't talking about subverting anything more or less than the human heart.
It's necessary because so often, we think our hearts are fine. We “think the church is already the kingdom of God . . . ” and we are often surprised to find it isn't! We forget the church is made up of men and women who are still too much in the world, too much of the world.
We don't want to give up our familiarity with all the world we see has to offer – its entertainments, its fashions, its opinions – but then we wonder why, as Christians, we aren't more, well, Christian.
Peterson suggests a good pastor will subvert such a heart, come at it with prayer and parable, hoping to somehow remind us that the real world, the one that matters most, is not the one we see, but the one God calls us to create right here where we live, in the midst of the world we see.
Prayer and parable – being in conversation with God, and listening to His stories – call us to turn away from what is shallow, what is fleeting, what is worth-less, and turn to what is lovely, what is true, and noble, and pure.
Monday, June 2, 2008
The Real Question . . .
Failure poses some real dangers to us: bitterness, unforgiveness, despair.
Sometimes in our failure we shift responsibility, and blame others. Over time I've learned how easy it is to do that: I don't want to acknowledge my own part in failure! It's much easier to look around and rationalize that “I would have done better if only . . . “ The “if only” part usually involves someone else and what I think they should have done for me.
It works like this: “I would have kept the house clean if only the kids had put away their toys when I asked them to.” Or “I wouldn't have spent that money if only my husband had remembered my birthday.”
Pretty slick, right? I've established my own good intentions or modest expectations, and avoided blame in one quick statement.
But practiced too often, this technique leads to bitterness, because when the failure to keep the house clean or the budget balanced becomes overwhelming, or when the other person (the one I'm blaming) doesn't shape up or treat me the way I think they should, I begin to feel misused. I wonder why “they” don't want to help me. I observe that they've never helped me much. Then, like Darth Vader, I decide they have “failed me for the last time.”
If I think about it too much then I can have a hard time forgiving the people I'm blaming. After all, isn't it their fault I'm suffering? Why should they get off scott free?
Or, if I'm feeling somewhat charitable toward them, I'll feel sorry for my own self, and slip into despair. Things will never change! and I'll just have to live with whatever it is . . .
Bitterness, unforgiveness, despair – what a nasty brew! There are other, better ways to deal with failure, I think.
I can start by acknowledging my own part, my responsibility for failure, and dealing with it. I can forgive others, and my own self, for failure. I can trust God to redeem my failures.
Each of those things is essential if I want to live a life of hope, if I want to accomplish the things God has set before me. Real accomplishment requires maturity, the maturity that recognizes difficulties and doesn't minimize them; maturity that recognizes failures will happen but can be redeemed; maturity that holds on to the hope that God is still working in me to accomplish His purposes.
It's all too easy to focus on our failures and fail to see God working in them.
When I look at my children, sometimes instead of seeing the wonderful people they've grown to be, I see my failures; they are painful. I wish I'd done better.
But mostly, and more importantly, I also see how God has worked in our lives. God has been faithful, and despite my failures, they've grown into delightful, faithful people. They have their own struggles and failures, but God is working in them, through them.
Maybe the real question we should be asking ourselves isn't “what have I accomplished today?” but “what is God accomplishing in and through me today?”
We just need eyes to see!
Sometimes in our failure we shift responsibility, and blame others. Over time I've learned how easy it is to do that: I don't want to acknowledge my own part in failure! It's much easier to look around and rationalize that “I would have done better if only . . . “ The “if only” part usually involves someone else and what I think they should have done for me.
It works like this: “I would have kept the house clean if only the kids had put away their toys when I asked them to.” Or “I wouldn't have spent that money if only my husband had remembered my birthday.”
Pretty slick, right? I've established my own good intentions or modest expectations, and avoided blame in one quick statement.
But practiced too often, this technique leads to bitterness, because when the failure to keep the house clean or the budget balanced becomes overwhelming, or when the other person (the one I'm blaming) doesn't shape up or treat me the way I think they should, I begin to feel misused. I wonder why “they” don't want to help me. I observe that they've never helped me much. Then, like Darth Vader, I decide they have “failed me for the last time.”
If I think about it too much then I can have a hard time forgiving the people I'm blaming. After all, isn't it their fault I'm suffering? Why should they get off scott free?
Or, if I'm feeling somewhat charitable toward them, I'll feel sorry for my own self, and slip into despair. Things will never change! and I'll just have to live with whatever it is . . .
Bitterness, unforgiveness, despair – what a nasty brew! There are other, better ways to deal with failure, I think.
I can start by acknowledging my own part, my responsibility for failure, and dealing with it. I can forgive others, and my own self, for failure. I can trust God to redeem my failures.
Each of those things is essential if I want to live a life of hope, if I want to accomplish the things God has set before me. Real accomplishment requires maturity, the maturity that recognizes difficulties and doesn't minimize them; maturity that recognizes failures will happen but can be redeemed; maturity that holds on to the hope that God is still working in me to accomplish His purposes.
It's all too easy to focus on our failures and fail to see God working in them.
When I look at my children, sometimes instead of seeing the wonderful people they've grown to be, I see my failures; they are painful. I wish I'd done better.
But mostly, and more importantly, I also see how God has worked in our lives. God has been faithful, and despite my failures, they've grown into delightful, faithful people. They have their own struggles and failures, but God is working in them, through them.
Maybe the real question we should be asking ourselves isn't “what have I accomplished today?” but “what is God accomplishing in and through me today?”
We just need eyes to see!
The Real Question . . .
Failure poses some real dangers to us: bitterness, unforgiveness, despair.
Sometimes in our failure we shift responsibility, and blame others. Over time I've learned how easy it is to do that: I don't want to acknowledge my own part in failure! It's much easier to look around and rationalize that “I would have done better if only . . . “ The “if only” part usually involves someone else and what I think they should have done for me.
It works like this: “I would have kept the house clean if only the kids had put away their toys when I asked them to.” Or “I wouldn't have spent that money if only my husband had remembered my birthday.”
Pretty slick, right? I've established my own good intentions or modest expectations, and avoided blame in one quick statement.
But practiced too often, this technique leads to bitterness, because when the failure to keep the house clean or the budget balanced becomes overwhelming, or when the other person (the one I'm blaming) doesn't shape up or treat me the way I think they should, I begin to feel misused. I wonder why “they” don't want to help me. I observe that they've never helped me much. Then, like Darth Vader, I decide they have “failed me for the last time.”
If I think about it too much then I can have a hard time forgiving the people I'm blaming. After all, isn't it their fault I'm suffering? Why should they get off scott free?
Or, if I'm feeling somewhat charitable toward them, I'll feel sorry for my own self, and slip into despair. Things will never change! and I'll just have to live with whatever it is . . .
Bitterness, unforgiveness, despair – what a nasty brew! There are other, better ways to deal with failure, I think.
I can start by acknowledging my own part, my responsibility for failure, and dealing with it. I can forgive others, and my own self, for failure. I can trust God to redeem my failures.
Each of those things is essential if I want to live a life of hope, if I want to accomplish the things God has set before me. Real accomplishment requires maturity, the maturity that recognizes difficulties and doesn't minimize them; maturity that recognizes failures will happen but can be redeemed; maturity that holds on to the hope that God is still working in me to accomplish His purposes.
It's all too easy to focus on our failures and fail to see God working in them.
When I look at my children, sometimes instead of seeing the wonderful people they've grown to be, I see my failures; they are painful. I wish I'd done better.
But mostly, and more importantly, I also see how God has worked in our lives. God has been faithful, and despite my failures, they've grown into delightful, faithful people. They have their own struggles and failures, but God is working in them, through them.
Maybe the real question we should be asking ourselves isn't “what have I accomplished today?” but “what is God accomplishing in and through me today?”
We just need eyes to see!
Sometimes in our failure we shift responsibility, and blame others. Over time I've learned how easy it is to do that: I don't want to acknowledge my own part in failure! It's much easier to look around and rationalize that “I would have done better if only . . . “ The “if only” part usually involves someone else and what I think they should have done for me.
It works like this: “I would have kept the house clean if only the kids had put away their toys when I asked them to.” Or “I wouldn't have spent that money if only my husband had remembered my birthday.”
Pretty slick, right? I've established my own good intentions or modest expectations, and avoided blame in one quick statement.
But practiced too often, this technique leads to bitterness, because when the failure to keep the house clean or the budget balanced becomes overwhelming, or when the other person (the one I'm blaming) doesn't shape up or treat me the way I think they should, I begin to feel misused. I wonder why “they” don't want to help me. I observe that they've never helped me much. Then, like Darth Vader, I decide they have “failed me for the last time.”
If I think about it too much then I can have a hard time forgiving the people I'm blaming. After all, isn't it their fault I'm suffering? Why should they get off scott free?
Or, if I'm feeling somewhat charitable toward them, I'll feel sorry for my own self, and slip into despair. Things will never change! and I'll just have to live with whatever it is . . .
Bitterness, unforgiveness, despair – what a nasty brew! There are other, better ways to deal with failure, I think.
I can start by acknowledging my own part, my responsibility for failure, and dealing with it. I can forgive others, and my own self, for failure. I can trust God to redeem my failures.
Each of those things is essential if I want to live a life of hope, if I want to accomplish the things God has set before me. Real accomplishment requires maturity, the maturity that recognizes difficulties and doesn't minimize them; maturity that recognizes failures will happen but can be redeemed; maturity that holds on to the hope that God is still working in me to accomplish His purposes.
It's all too easy to focus on our failures and fail to see God working in them.
When I look at my children, sometimes instead of seeing the wonderful people they've grown to be, I see my failures; they are painful. I wish I'd done better.
But mostly, and more importantly, I also see how God has worked in our lives. God has been faithful, and despite my failures, they've grown into delightful, faithful people. They have their own struggles and failures, but God is working in them, through them.
Maybe the real question we should be asking ourselves isn't “what have I accomplished today?” but “what is God accomplishing in and through me today?”
We just need eyes to see!
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