loose ends...

Samuel and me,

playing our Stringer guitars

handcrafted by Hulon Stringer

... here, at the end of days, there are loose ends... random journal thoughts, homeless expressions of a wandering mind... may they find a home in you...

     Unanswered Questions:


Is my faith an event or a lifestyle?



From which perspective do I relate to best- 
     from below the horizon or from above? 



Am I pushing walls outward or pulling walls inward?



Is there an aspect of honor contained within generosity?



What are my students actually learning?



What does 'making a living' mean?



Am I on par with a broken clock- true twice a day?



If I were a font, would I be serif or sans-serif?



How can a person be heard if they haven't found their voice?



Is shame a consequence or an attachment?



Understand God? I don't understand me!




     Bits and Pieces:

My needs give other believers the opportunity to be the Body of Christ. Why am I uncomfortable with that?



In the natural realm, sight precedes sound.



Before a word can be spoken, it must first exist. Speaking lends breath to the thought.



Truth is easier to chew when you are smiling.



Sometimes I feel I am a piece that fell from a puzzle box. 




Mistakes leave scars.

Neighbors and Wise Men

"Stand at the crossroads and look,

and ask for ancient paths where the good way lies;

and walk in it, and find rest for your souls."

Jeremiah 6:16

     In G.K. Chesterton's classic The Everlasting Man, Chesterton writes-

"There are two ways of getting home; and one of them is to stay there. The other is to walk round the whole world till we come back to the same place..."

Early Christians were known as followers of the Way. Anyone who has ever followed Christ must agree with Bilbo Baggins when he said to Frodo, "It's dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door." Paradoxically, it is a business for the faint of heart. There will come moments in the journey when you long for home, when comfort seems far way. Along the path you will encounter paens and threnodies, songs of praise and cries of lament, and you will participate... with your voice or with your silence. And sometimes you will wonder why.

     Tony Kriz introduces his latest book, Neighbors and Wise Men with these words,

"I CAN'T BELIEVE ANYMORE"

Tony Kriz walked 'round the whole world' to come home. If you've read Donald Miller's Blue Like Jazz you know Tony as "Tony the Beat Poet." In Tony's words, "I am not a beat-poet. I am not even a normal poet." 

     Neighbors and Wise Men is the story of Tony Kriz's journey, from home to Albania to Reed College to home again. And, along the way, he wondered why. This is a book that will challenge the Religious Camp's ideology, and that is a good thing. Here is an excerpt:

"In time, over a thousand conversations about faith with Muslim people, I learned an unexpected idea. When I stated a fact about faith, it led to a spiritual debate. The argument was often enjoyable, but there was an undeniable sense that the relational separation was growing. However, when I shared a story about how I came to believe what I believe, the relational distance closed like the bellows of an accordion. My unexpected discovery was this: facts are the language of the head; story is the language of the heart. The language of the head encourages debate. The language of the heart encourages friendship."

     As I read Tony's book I realised that my journey is similar to his. I realised that God has consistently surprised me- in pubs and other unexpected places. Tony Kriz reminds us that God delights in revealing Himself to us, especially in unexpected places. 

     I disagree, however, with Tony on one point. He is a poet.

     Thank you, Tony, for Neighbors and Wise Men.

    

A Good Life

"He wanted to be buried in his orchard, beneath his favorite Apple tree."

That is what the family member said.

Rudy and I were there to place the grave marker. I don't know which is the more remarkable thought: that he wanted to be buried under his favorite tree or that he had a favorite tree?

     Since my childhood I have found solace with trees. Nothing clears my head faster than a walk in the woods. Perhaps if our politicians took walks our government would be different.

     Last night, as I considered the man buried in his orchard, I wondered about his life, if in his last days he wondered about his life. What is a good life? Friends, purpose, peace, contentment, and consistency are elements of a good life. Not merely having needs met but the ability to help others is also part of a good life. Perhaps a good life is like the fullness that comes from having had an excellent meal. With an excellent meal there is:

preparation

fellowship

an aesthetic aspect

different courses

elements of surprise

(the known blended with the unknown)

and, dessert

(ending with the taste of sweetness)

    

     Perhaps, at the conclusion of the matter, it can be said by all present, "Something of more than ordinary significance occurred here."

Things I Need to Remember Before Entering the Classroom

I teach art to High School students. Here are a few things I wish someone had told me twenty years ago:

1. Leave room in the lesson plan for the student (and God)

Q: What is more important-

Seeing my goals and objectives achieved or

seeing the student realize that their voice is valid?

2. Words have the power of Life and Death

3. My students are hearing with fresh ears

4. Profanity is the sign of a poor vocabulary

The thirsty will drink filth and young people are thirsty; i.e., people will settle for the mediocre or shock because they are unaware of the richness that surrounds them, from both the past and the present.

5. Joy is contagious

6. Negativity is contagious

7. I am a steward of ideas, not an owner

Not all my ideas are for me.

8. I teach people, not subjects

9. Learning is reciprocal

The floor in my classroom is level.

10. You never know what a day may bring forth...

and it is a Good day

like petals falling...

In the aftermath of the recent school shooting in Connecticut, my friend Jacob wrote the following:

                                                                 Silence brings connection between past and present, present and future. Some have discovered and others will discover we are made for eternity. Even with this understanding, albeit shallow, our hearts still betray us. We know that death will arrive, announced for some and suddenly for others, like an unfamiliar person who shouts your name from behind. Separation is part of what we do here on this earth, but when the cause is a disconnected, mentally-ill youth, the effects are not unlike an atomic bomb; mass destruction at the center spreading outward causing additional damage in the form of anxiety, knee-jerk reactions and irrational fear. It eats away at our sense of safety and spills our faith on the floor, like petals falling from a dying flower.

                                                                                         The heart bleeds in times like this, unsure of what reaction to make. The questions to be answered are difficult and long. In the end the voices, disconnected from us suddenly, will be heard, not only in this age but in the age to come. For now, let us pour out our hearts as offering and spill our tears in the same way. We will never be okay with these acts, as they don’t fit even on this side of paradise. Now, let us lift our eyes to heaven, where are strength comes from for He died to heal our broken hearts.

Jacob Valdez

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