Psalm 118 is one of the “Hallel” psalms—“Hallel” meaning “praise” (Here’s the big “duh”—“Hallelujah” = “Praise Yah”—as in Yah the short version of YHWH—i.e. “Praise God.”) The Hallel Psalms are recited at several Jewish holidays but particularly at Passover, Shauvot, and Sukkot.
Ok, so what are the “messages of praise” in Psalm 118?????
1. Give thanks simply because he’s good. (v1 and v29)
2. All of Israel praises him. (v2)
3. Priests praise him (the “Aaronic lineage”). (v3)
4. Those who acknowledge his power praise him (v4)
5. I will praise the fact that God is simply at my side. (v6)
6. I will praise God for being my strength, my song, and for saving me (v14)
7. I will praise God for my life and God’s power over death, as well as for all of God’s works. (v17)
8. I will praise God for opening the gates to his holy kingdom for me. (v19)
9. I will thank God for answering prayer. (v21)
10. I will thank God for his ability to take what the world rejects and make it a lynchpin of his works. (v22-24)
11. I will thank God for those who come in his name that bring us a better understanding of who God is. (v26)
12. I will thank God simply because my God “belongs to me” in a way unlike how God belongs to anyone else.
Next task:
Take these 12 elements of praise and thank God in my own words for them.
I thank you, God.
I thank you simply “for bein’ you.” Lots of people thank you, in their own way, but their ways are not my ways. My ways are pretty straightforward and simple. I can make them flowery when I need to, but there’s no need at the moment because it’s just you and me talking.
I recognize you are the seat of all the power in the universe (although at times I try to claim a little of that for my own.) I’m glad you put up with that sort of foolishness on my part. Truthfully, I’m glad it’s in your job description, not mine.
You don’t know how grateful I am that you are alongside of me in my darkest moments and on my toughest days, but not just then—I’m also grateful you and I can enjoy the sunshine together. I’m glad you and I can play in the sun, and feel the breeze on our faces, and see the ocean in my pasture together. I’m glad we can connect with the stars in my yard at night.
You didn’t have to save all of humankind. You didn’t have to give us your son Jesus. You didn’t have to save me. But you did. I can never repay a debt like that and you know it. You are a strong arm carrying me along, you are a shoulder to lean on, and yeah, you are a boot in my backside now and then too—but I’ll take it all. You show me “your songs”, not necessarily with music, but in the movement and rhythm of the sky, the wind, the trees, and the seasons.
I am not as afraid of death as I could be. Yeah, I’m scared now and then, but not as bad as it could be. That’s because you show me a world beyond death—a world where death is only a teeny-tiny part of the whole picture. You do amazing things—not just in my life but in others, and you’re truly awesome in that regard!
I have to admit I find it a little incredulous that you swing the gates of your heavenly kingdom wide open for me and invite me in with no background check, no ID, no price of admission…but you do. You would let me in “as is”. But “as is” is how you made me, right? So I guess you knew what you were doing.
Thank you, God, for listening to me. Thanks for listening to me even when I’m not sure what I want. Thanks for listening to me when I’m too messed up to even put the words together and you have to read my thoughts and my intent through my sobs and tears. Thank you for not just taking what I tell you and treating it like a list for Santa. Sometimes I think I know what I want but you know better, and you don’t give me what I want, but what I need. I’m glad you love me enough to be tough on me like that.
Thank you, God, for reminding me that being “different” is ok. Better than ok, in fact. Some days are harder on me than others in terms of “rejection”. Some of it is that I’ve been so well trained to find fault in myself, to “reject myself” as “not good enough” or “not as good as the others.” But you have reminded us through the life of Jesus that what the world rejected is sometimes “too good for the world,” as we say around here. So good that the world couldn’t possibly know how good it was till the story played out. When I feel different, I’m in good company—Jesus, Ghandi, Mother Teresa—so I should not feel so bad about it.
God, not only am I thankful to you for what you do for me, I’m thankful for all the people you have crossed my life’s path with that have led me to a better understanding of you. There are many. They know who they are, and I think they will feel my love for them, but if I name names, I will inadvertently leave one out. These people have, in their own way, and when they weren’t even trying, brought me closer to you. They have made Jesus more real for me than Jesus himself, in some ways. It is hard for me to feel directly connected with someone who lived 2000 years ago. But it is easier to “get it” when I can see Jesus’ love in one of my friends.
But finally, God, thank you for interacting with me in a way that you cannot possibly interact with anyone else. I realize with all the billions of humans on the planet that seems near-impossible, but I also see through the snowflakes you bring in winter that there are infinite combinations to how you work with these crazy humans of yours. What I sense is when you and I are connected, that is a special bond meant for none other than you and me. I am very, very protective of that bond, just like I am very protective of the bonds I share with the special people in my life! But that is because you protect me in the shadow of your wings and I really am the apple of your eye. I would say, “You’ll never know how much that means to me,” but duh, obviously, you do!!!!! So all I can say is just “Thanks” and trust you get it!
Here is one of the little blurbs I wrote during my exploration of Psalm 118:
“His mercy endures for ever.”
In Psalm 118, this phrase is used four times at the beginning and repeated once more at the end (just in case you didn’t “get it”!) What is this word “mercy?”
I think for a lot of us the word “mercy” implies an act similar to pardoning a criminal, or to end the life of a tortured criminal in a swift and dignified fashion. But I suspect our “criminalization” of this word has also clouded its true meaning to us.
The Hebrew word for “mercy” is “checed.” It is used 240 times in the Old Testament and frequently in the psalms. It is interesting that the New Revised Standard Version translates it to “steadfast love”. The King James Version usually uses “mercy” but in some phrases “loving-kindness” and “favor” are used. The New International Version simply uses “love.” But these words detract from the enduring quality of this love.
I am watching the sun rise in the corner of my yard. Although it comes up in a slightly different “exact spot” in the east as the year rolls by, without fail, it comes up in the east. I can count on it coming up in that side of my yard. In other words, there is an enduring quality to the sunrise, a steadfastness, a dependability.
Now, I have not watched the sun actually rise for weeks. But never, not once, did I think in the middle of the day, “Uh, did the sun come up today? I forgot to look.” I just knew it did. So it is with God’s mercy. He does what he does, he does it every day, and it happens whether we “check up on it or not.” Just as the sun shines on us every day whether we notice it or not, God’s mercy shines upon us every day whether we notice it or not…even when we are pretending to hide from it in our dark painful places, or when we delude ourselves into thinking we can ignore it or refuse it. The light of God’s mercy shines on us anyway, whether we want it or not, and sometimes I think the “chafing” of it is that we don’t want it at the moment, but get it anyway.
But in those moments that ARE noticed, what happens?
I think it’s like sitting in the sun as opposed to the shade. The light is there either way but, for me, I feel the warmth of it. I feel its touch upon my skin, its touch upon my inner core, I feel the resonance of my own “good parts” respond by glowing outward. When I really want to accept where the light of God shines from within myself, it is in this quality of “steadfastness”. I am not a “gooshy love” kind of person. But I think those close to me feel an intensity, a warmth, a steadfastness, and a loyalty to my love that can be incredibly “scary strong” at times. Sometimes I think it is at a level people are not used to expecting, and the intensity of it can spook them a little at times. Then again, I am sometimes amazed at the intensity of which others can respond to it.
I think this quality in me comes from the fact that my life is not rooted in a partner and children. I think these forms of love tend to be used on one’s immediate family, and generally there is not a lot left for spare for the use of others. I have it to spare, so I use it.
I like to believe that when I am the one who sits with someone at the emergency room, or the one who shows up with the tire jack, or the one who is “right there” in a time of personal turmoil saying nothing but holding someone’s hand or just listening to them, that it is in those moments that others can feel what the steadfast love of God—God’s mercy—feels like—and they can feel its enduring quality through me. Perhaps it is a gift that God gave me through my own sometimes seemingly broken, solitary life. It’s not a judgment or a condemnation, it’s not a situation where you have to “humble” yourself to God, it’s just “there” and it is to be used and all that is required is to be thankful for it.
As the sun bathes me in the early morning chill, I am thinking about those times I have grabbed the hands of hurting friends and looked them square in the eye and squeezed their hand as hard as I could. I almost always say to them something like, “I won’t let go.” “I am right here.” “I won’t abandon you.” “When you are feeling like letting go, you remember I have a-hold of you so tight, you will not fall.” Now, I don’t know HOW I’m going to accomplish that sometime, but I know I will. It’s the affirmation that occurs frequently in the Book of Common Prayer when re-emphasizing parts of our Baptismal Covenant—“I will, with God’s help.”
Well, my "roll your own retreat" wasn't so bad. It was a relaxing day, but I will tell you it was a mentally taxing day all the same. I managed to write 11 reflections...some good, some bad. I'm going to upload a few of the better ones.
Here are the "wrap up" questions I wrote myself...
1. What have I learned from this experience?
I learned that there is actually plenty I can be thankful about and in that thankfulness, there is rejoicing…even if my rejoicing is being flip and funny at times. That IS part of my joy. That is how God made me.
I learned that doing this all day is like learning to be a trained athlete. I am not “in shape” for the amount of focus that a day long retreat takes. I need to train for this, I think…maybe have some half day experiences on days off, holidays, weekends, etc. then see if I can stretch my focus a little further. In a way, I feel like I ran my first 5k run, spiritually…could go the distance but could feel myself lagging at the end. Some of this is that I am a little attention-deficit disorder anyway.
I learned that I would not be afraid of another experience.
2. What was the BEST thing that happened today?
I liked just spending the day “hanging with God.” I have never done that in exactly this way. It was like we took a vacation or a road trip together. Sure I think ABOUT God on road trips or vacations, but not like I am trying to stay connected with him ALL the time.
3. What was the HARDEST thing about today?
Keeping focused later in the day. I found that I had to take more frequent breaks. I used my breaks in a variety of prayer…repetitive prayer, silent prayer, sometimes just sitting in the lawn chair and letting God n’ me “just be.” But I also discovered that was not just “down time”, that was also “recharging time.” There was actually a comfort and a pleasure in the recharging!
4. What do I know about the “joy” and “delight” of God’s kingdom that I didn’t know before?
I think mostly that, although I realize it is a little more elusive for me, it IS there. Some of it is a little disguised in my goofy brand of humor, but it is there. It is there in serious forms also. When I was writing the blurb where I thanked God in my own words for the 12 elements of praise in the psalm, I could feel tears welling up at times. It was a very real expression of my gratitude. It is a little like how I treat my better friends. I gig them. I tease them. I push their buttons sometimes just to watch them holler. Sometimes I even grump at them. But every once in a while, I look them in the eye with a very serious look and try to remind them how much they are truly loved by me (but I would hardly ever use the word “love.”) Those are the times my friends are a little amazed at the depth of who they are to me, because I did not seem “that serious.” I got to do that for God today. It was nice.
I think I have to learn to cultivate this part of me a little more. It does not grow well wild. This needs a little “tending” and “feeding” for it to do well.
I am still not sure exactly how and where and totally what I'm going to do, but I know this much...I'm doing it tomorrow, and I'm doing it with Psalm 118.
My self-imposed, quasi vicar-guided assignment is to rework, rewrite, re-tool Psalm 118 as many ways as I can. I imagine I will share some of the "better" (Ok, so "better" is a relative term) ones here. Not sure how I'll check in with you all--maybe at the end of the day--with how it went.
So....I ask your prayers tomorrow, especially for "lack of distractions"...and I'm accepting any last minute advice! I am pretty sure I need to see the sun rise tomorrow so that is how I'm starting off. But the rest is a bit of a black box...
I was incredibly morose yesterday after reading this post from Bishop Gene Robinson's blog. I wanted so much to be able to reach across the web and hug the dude!
Gene, if I could sit across the table from you, I would grab both your hands in mine with a big squeeze, stare you smack dab in the face with what my friends call my "serious as a crutch" look, and this is what I'd say...
"Hell, not only will I pray for you, I will not abandon you. I will sit right there in your "hurting place", maybe off in the corner a little, because I don't really know you (I'd leave room closer to you for those who you need closer.) But I will sit there as long as you need me to sit. I know the "hurting place". Sure, the things that make me hurt in it are different than yours, but I know the place. I've bought the souvenir T-shirt from that place.
"I hate that place. It hurts like hell to be in that place, because even if I sit there for someone else, I feel the resonance of my own pain in it. But I will sit there with you in it so you will not be alone. With God's help you will rise above it. Me too--but we'll save my stuff for later. Today is about your stuff, and I will bear your burden on my own dislocated shoulders for as long as you need me. God be with you, my friend I've never met."
Last Sunday's Gospel had a lot of "disconnects" in it.
This is one time when the New Revised Standard Version of the Bible lets me down and the KJV seems to underscore things better. It doesn't happen often, but this is one of those times. The NRSV in the Matthew 13 parable, talks of wheat mixing with "weeds" sewn by an enemy. This is the story that in the KJV, the weeds are called "tares."
Now never mind that as a kid, "tares" never made sense to me. I thought "tare" was what you did to a scale to set it to zero. But "weed" is so nondescript and "tare" is very precise...I'm kind of surprised the NRSV backed down to "weeds." "Weeds" could be chicory, sunflowers, whatever. "Tares" refers to a particular plant that has been called "false wheat" that strongly resembles wheat. That makes more sense to me when you think about the parable.
Ok, but let’s play with the word here...what’s a tare? The greek word is “zizania”, thought to be a plant called the darnel, a type of cockle. Here is what Wikipedia says about this plant...
“It usually grows in the same production zones as wheat and is considered a weed. The similarity between these two plants is so extensive that in some regions cockle is referred to as "false wheat." It bears a close resemblance to wheat until the ear appears. The ears on the real wheat are so heavy that it makes the entire plant droop downward, but the "false wheat", which ears are light, stands straight.” I found another reference that said that tares have black seeds which also can help distinguish them from wheat...but more near the end of the growing season, when you could send people in to "harvest" the tares first before the wheat.
It was interesting to think about this at the time I was hearing Wallace's sermon yesterday. He was talking about how the "wheat" and the "weeds" in our lives become very admixed and intertwined. We have had several conversations in the past about how our best features and our worst faults often come from the same roots. Well, like the wheat and the tares, you can’t tell what’s “good” and what’s “bad” until it grows to a certain place in the growing season. Even then it may not be apparent from a distance. Maybe you have to be up close to really see it.
Well, and really, what’s the difference between the wheat seeds and the tare seeds? One’s nourishing; one isn’t. The "holiness" of us is nourishing, the "humanness" of us..ehhhh...sometimes yes, sometimes no.
Do we radically change our tune about our bad behaviors in an abrupt 180? No, we sort of deal with them over time. But they, like our good points, are “us” and as much “us” as our good stuff. We have to accept these two sides of us intermingle. It’s what I have come to appreciate in the Hebrew concept of the Yetzer ha-tov (the good inclination in us) and the yetzer ha-ra (the evil inclination in us.) That’s what the weeds and the wheat mixed together represent to me. This would have been a concept easily understood by Jesus, being reared a good Jewish boy and all. It would make sense that he would see "wheat" and "false wheat" and going together in a story.
Now, in Wallace's sermon yesterday, he mentioned more disconnects. Earlier in the chapter, Jesus calls the parable, "The parable of the sower." Later, the disciples ask to explain "the parable of the weeds in the field." Oops, there's a disconnect. Then Matthew himself might well have a disconnect. Matthew has Jesus quoted as to what the parable means, but when you read the parable, is that exactly what you get when you try to take home a message? Is this really a parable about "retribution"? Or is it one more of "tolerance" of our human flaws?
Think about this. The tares/weeds coexist until harvest time. Is "harvest" a retribution, a consignment to Hell for all of our human nature? Or is this "burning" at harvest a purification?
This is what I think the “burning” is all about. I think it’s hard to see our "wheat" sometimes b/c of our "tares". But at “harvest time” (when we die) all that “flawed human stuff”..."the tares"...will be collected and burned off, and leave exposed the brightness and holiness of “our wheat.” We will FINALLY SEE WHO WE ARE AND WHO WE WERE MEANT TO BE! It’s not “burn like burn in Hell,” It’s burn like “purify, burn off the bad stuff to show the good.” No more human flaws, just our holy selves! What a concept!
It's just too easy to peg this parable as "retributive"when perhaps the deeper meaning is we can undergo purification and revelation...at least I'd like to think that!
Ok, hat tip to Ruth at Ruth's Visions and Revisions for this one. For her 100th post, she listed 100 things about herself. Well, I'm way past 100 posts, so I guess I'll do 100 things about me in honor of HER 100th post!!!!!
1. As illustrated by my "election poster" above for the 1968 presidential election, I was taught at an early age by my grandmother to dislike Richard Nixon. My grandmother used to tell me, "That SOB Richard Nixon is so crooked, when he dies, they'll have to screw him into the ground."
2. I am left handed.
3. I have longer ring fingers than index fingers. This means I may have gotten more testosterone in utero.
4. I have never voted for a Republican for President, or for the governor of Missouri, or for U.S. Senator.
5. I have been baptized three times, confirmed twice, and in a moment of childhood desperation, even did the "wordless book" in the secrecy of the toolshed. Someone was handing out tracts at the state fair and they scared me about Hell. I was only 8 or 9 at the time. I stopped being afraid of Hell about age 13. I stopped believing there was a Hell outside of my own ears at about age 14.
6. I am an only child (although many people guess that I had several older brothers.) I made sure I would be an only child by giving my stepdad the mumps. He got mumps orchitis and became sterile.
7. I have lived along a 90 mile stretch of U.S. Hwy. 63 for 46.5 of my 48 years.
8. When I die, I will be the 5th and last generation to be buried in the family plot in Macon, MO.
9. As a small child, I had an imaginary friend named Piedmont Peemine.
10. My childhood dog was a little fat rat terrier named Peetee. (ok, it's becoming obvious I liked the letter P as a child, isn't it?)
11. I had a 3.79 GPA in college....just missed Summa Cum Laude.
12. I taught myself to read at age 3 1/2. No one believed it until my grandmother goaded me into reading the sports page of the Macon Chronicle-Herald.
13. I got my first gray hair at age 25. I have never once had the desire to color my hair, although I am now more salt than pepper.
14. In 1978, I was named an "Outstanding High School Writer in America" by the National Council of Teachers of English. Of all the Missouri winners, I was from the smallest town. Almost everyone else was from Hickman or Rock Bridge in Columbia.
15. I was a John J. Pershing Scholar at Truman State University here in Kirksville.
16. I once won $100 on a lottery ticket on a day I was going to buy a $99 microwave. The microwave lasted almost 15 years. I got my $1 worth!
17. I never owned a dishwasher until I was 40 years old.
18. I never owned a stick of furniture that was not either a hand-me-down from relatives, or from a dead old lady's estate sale, until I was 36. I bought a recliner. I still have the same recliner. Ok, so I don't buy a lot of furniture.
19. All the women in my family historically avoid buying women's jeans. There is a mindset that they are built flimsier than men's jeans, and therefore are not as good a bargain. I don't think any female relative in my family has bought a pair of women's jeans in 30 years. Also, big calves run in my family and most women's jeans are too small in the thighs/calves. Levi's 569's and 550's are popular in my family. The men and women steal each other's jeans a lot.
20. I am a character in three novels, all published in the 1990's. It's fun to have a friend who is a novelist!
21. My grandmother says that the first time they took me to the shoe store, around age two, to buy my first pair of shoes other than those ugly-assed white high top baby shoes, I waddled over, grabbed a pair of cowboy boots, and said "WANT DAT!" I now own 17 pairs, last time I counted.
22. Another telling two year old story...my grandmother says when I fell and cried, and someone would come over to pick me up, I would push them away and yell, "NOOOOOOOOO!" One could argue I'm still that way.
23. I served on a university board of trustees for six years. That was very interesting!
24. Other than when I lived in a college dorm, I don't think I've ever been without a dog. Even when I did live in the dorm, my dog was at home.
25. I saw a tornado knock down the radio tower at the Mo. Highway Patrol headquarters in Macon--I think it was like 1968 or 1969. Rather than becoming afraid of tornadoes, I have been fascinated by their power ever since.
26. The biggest fish I have ever caught is a 43 lb. catfish.
27. I bat left handed but golf right handed. I can shoot a pistol with roughly equal skill with either hand. I am left eye dominant but my golf pro says I use my right eye as dominant when I do things right handed.
28. I once put 360,000 miles on a single pickup truck. Yeah, it was two engines and 3 transmissions later, but I still sold it for $350 when I got rid of it.
29. I can put a pencil in each hand and write forward with the right hand and backwards with the left hand. I can also write upside down this way too.
30. I can still put my foot behind my head at age 48. You would think this would have benefit for potential sexual encounters but it doesn't.
31. I have fixed things with epoxy and duct tape that should never have been fixed with either...things like c-pap face masks and microscopes.
32. My grandmother believed in worming children who play in the pasture barefoot, but she never used "people wormer". She used horse paste wormer from Orscheln's. I can remember her making a proportion to figure out how much to give 50 lb. me compared to an 800 lb. horse. She would smear it on two Ritz crackers and tell me to eat it. It tasted like apple flavored school glue.
33. If I could be given 5 minutes doing something that no longer exists, I would spend my 5 minutes sniffing freshly mimeographed school papers.
34. When I got my front tooth crowned, I told my dentist to "beat it up so it looks real." He cut a tiny chip in the bottom edge and angled it down with the drill, like he'd fix a real chipped tooth and I thought it was perfect. He thought I was crazy. I told him, "My teeth are perfectly imperfect, why ruin a good thing?"
35. There were so many divorces and re-marriages in my family that at one time, I had five sets of grandparents. Now I only have one left.
36. I am pretty adventurous about food, especially hot and spicy food. I like sushi and refer to it as "bait."
37. My favorite comfort food is pickled eggs. My dad used to tend bar when he was laid off in the winter from bricklaying, and I really liked "bar food."
38. I cannot stand mustard and mayonnaise. I can smell and taste them down to the parts per billion.
39. I have continually owned Ford F-series pickup trucks for 27 years. I am on Truck #4. The first one was the one that lasted 360,000 miles.
40. The architect of the church I presently attend was the architect of the church I attended in childhood, but they were diferent denominations.
41. I am a distant relative of the first U.S. Senator from Missouri, David Barton.
42. I graduated 4th in a high school class of 113. My high school counselor, however, said I "did not have the temperament for college" and encouraged me to either go into the military or to technical school. I ignored her advice.
43. I can send and receive Morse code at 20 words per minute. When I was younger, I was a ham radio operator. I still have a license but have not been on the air in years. The internet superceded it!
44. At age 9 I had a poem published in "Wee Wisdom Magazine".
45. My secret skill is writing funny lyrics for songs, and writing "Baxter Black-style cowboy poetry" for birthday parties and 25th/50th wedding anniversaries.
46. I am an excellent cook, but people tend to think since I live alone I must be incapable of cooking. When I bring something to a church carry-in, people act shocked that I made it myself. This pisses me off.
47. Four times in my life, friends and relatives have sent me into a house first where someone has died and didn't show up among the living for several days. I guess, even though my world revolves around little jars/bags/buckets of formalin containing surgical specimens and biopsies, they think b/c I had to do autopsies as part of my training, that it makes me immune to the smell of rotting human flesh.
48. The secret related to #47--dead bodies (simply as their state of being dead) sort of annoy me, in the sense that you always "have to do something with them." If you encounter one, you have to stop what you're doing and call the law. If you work in a hospital, moving them is not easy--they are literally "dead weight" and you have to do things like use the "gurney with the secret hidden compartment" so it looks like you are pushing an empty gurney down the hall instead of a dead person. (You'll probably never look at anyone pushing an empty gurney in a hospital quite the same ever again, now!)
In my days of working around a busier hospital morgue, arranging funeral home pickups were not always easy. Sometimes you could not even hardly get rid of them, if they were homeless. It could take weeks to get the county to assume disposition of them.
I have to be very careful about this annoyance in front of other people. They can mistakenly see it as a callousness for human life. Quite the opposite. In my mind, Elvis has left the building--the humanity is gone--and I would be sort of stuck with the disposition of a large piece of meat. I don't find it incongruous at all to grieve the loss of a human being while at the same time being annoyed about the disposition of the carcass in which it used to be housed. But other people can't always understand that so I have to be careful.
49. I seriously don't know which I like better, sunrises or sunsets.
50. When I am truly sad, angry, or distressed, I can't stand for people to rush in and comfort me. I have to sit with my own pain alone for some unspecified period of time before I'll let anyone in.
51. Although I am certainly capable of being intensely happy, I don't like to be that way for long. My German-American background has taught me to never "tempt the fates" and in that weird, Teutonic way, being happy invites the spirits of calamity to your doorstep.
52. Puppy smell is one of the finest smells I know.
53. Horse sweat smell is almost as good.
54. My "normal" mood is "minimally disgruntled but pleasantly flip and funny at the same time."
55. I have secretly desired most of my adult life to learn to play a musical instrument, but have never acted on that desire b/c 1) I'm afraid I can't devote the time to it; 2) I can't decide on just one instrument and fear I could not be "serious" about just one; and 3) I don't think I could stand to play in front of others.
56. However, in light of #55, I did sort of teach myself to play the harmonica by ear...but I won't play in front of others with very rare exceptions.
57. There are lots of days I'd rather spend with dogs than with people.
58. I hold most people at arms length except for a very very few--and those very very few are sometimes amazed at the depth of my loyalty to them.
59. I intensely dislike the word "love" as it is used in the English language because it is so overused and trite. How can a word based on infinite combinations of "eros", "philos" and "agape" possibly be used to describe a flavor of ice cream?
60. I have never understood the purpose of makeup, moisturizer, painted nails, hair coloring products, hair restoration products, clothing that is uncomfortable for the sake of "attractiveness" or cosmetic surgery. Why would anyone want to be anything other than who they are? Why would people want others to be attracted to who you think you'd like to be other than who you are? I have heard people explain their reasons for this in many ways, but ultimately, I am just incapable of "getting it." It simply bewilders me b/c it doesn't register on my radar. Period.
61. I have always been grateful that after I first visited Trinity, no one followed up my visit with one of those dorky "church hospitality/check out your spirituality" visits. If they had, I would have run like hell, screaming, in the opposite direction. This is why discussion about "following up on our visitors" at the Bishop's Committee meeting makes my stomach churn.
62. My favorite way to eat oatmeal is with garlic, salt, and hot sauce.
63. I secretly like to eat Gerber Meat Sticks now and then. I pretend I'm buying them for the dogs. Vienna sausages don't taste the same.
64. I accidentally ate three dog cookies once before someone told me they were dog cookies. I thought they were some kind of granola cookie.
65. I accidentally drank potpourri on my aunt's stove once. I thought it was hot tea until a pinecone popped up to the top of my mug. Even then, I had not made the total connection. I looked at her and said, "Hey, what kind of tea is this? It has pinecones and shit in it!"
66. I like sour cream on my french fries. Or vinegar. I prefer either to ketchup.
67. I have always owned male dogs.
68. I really like sauerkraut. Not just with polish sausages, corned beef, etc. but I make this really kick ass dish made of italian sausage, kraut, beef broth, golden raisins, garlic, and McCormack's Caribbean Jerk seasoning. People think it sounds really weird till they eat it!
69. I have been a St. Louis Cardinals baseball fan as long as I can remember being aware of baseball. Again, you have my grandmother to thank for that. We buried her in the jacket and hat she wore when she would go to St. Louis to the ballgames. When the Cards were in the 2006 World Series, I took red and white flowers to my grandmother's grave every day (my buddy Dave and I were joking we were asking for intercession from St. Frances of Macon.)
70. My first computer was a Commodore 64.
71. I remember when my dad's boss had the first microwave I ever saw. It was 1972. His kids and I entertained ourselves by exploding hot dogs in it.
72. 1972 was also the first year we had air conditioning. Missouri summers were just as sweltering back then as they are now, with air conditioning.
73. Remembering "life without A/C" became very important in the summer of 1998. I remodeled my house and ended up being without A/C all summer. My co-workers thought I was psychotic for "roughing it out." I think there were only 4 days I was miserable. The rest of the time, I knew enough tricks to make it "tolerable."
74. My first bicycle was a Western Auto Western Flyer.
75. For the first ten years of my life, I had a different last name. Like Bill Clinton, I saved my money (deposit bottles, mostly) and paid for my own name change so I would be the same as my mom and my stepdad.
76. I never saw much of the relatives with my original last name throughout my childhood. When I was 17, I went looking for them. My favorite cousin, J., is from that side of the family. He had just been born when I discovered that side of the family. I'm glad I went looking for them all--I can't imagine what my life would be like without J.
77. I've worn glasses since I was 17. People think I'm weird that I don't want to either have Lasik surgery or wear contacts. Yes, I handle people pieces in formalin all day long, but I think it's gross to touch your eyeballs!
78. One of the pluses about having once been a schoolteacher is you know the names of esoteric supplies....like that stuff they sprinkle on puke at school (VoBan) and the stuff you spray to make graffiti go away (VandalAway and GoofOff are the two I remember....)
79. I once impressed the hell out of my vicar by making graffiti on the sidewalk (painted hand prints) disappear with GoofOff. He thinks I know how to fix everything and often asks me to fix very obscure items. I like having one person in my life who thinks I can fix everything, even if it isn't true.
80. The book of Isaiah is my favorite book in the Bible.
81. Mark is my favorite Gospel.
82. I think the person in the Bible who probably is most like me is Simon Peter. He and I kind of rush headalong into things but we're good hearted. I can imagine myself cutting off someone's ear and saying something like "oh, shit" afterwards.
83. I have always identifed more with Harry Truman than any other president b/c we both have the speech of "real" rural north Missourians. I have a copy of his memorial service at the National Cathedral and his burial in Independence (Harry was Baptist but Bess was Episcopalian, so he got a BCP 1928 funeral). When I die, I want the same Bible readings read, and the prayer called "A Prayer for Missouri" that was used at his National Cathedral service read.
84. My uncle died at age 11 in a hunting accident, when I was eight months old. As a child, I used to imagine what my life would have been like having an uncle that was more like an older brother.
85. There probably isn't a week go by that I don't have a short moment of missing my grandparents who lived across the road from me--even though my grandpa died in 1990 and my granny died in 2002.
86. I was the physician who officially pronounced my grandmother dead and signed my grandmother's death certificate as the physician certifying her death. She died at 2 a.m. on a cold February morning and I could not see the sense of calling in her doc to pronounce her dead. She was a fairly private person and I think she would kind have liked it that way.
87. My family bought my first dog (a rat terrier named Peetee) before I was born, with the intent that he would be "my dog."
88. I have had two dreams in my life where I really felt God appeared, and both times he looked like George Burns.
89. I once saw a "burning bush" in which the bush was not consumed (sort of)...there is a phenomena where the sunrise further east is reflected in the clouds and sort of "projected" in the sky. That phenomenon was right behind a shrubby tree on the horizon. It made the tree look like it was on fire and not being burned. I stood and looked at it for several minutes, just because it was so cool. What a neat natural phenomenon!
90. I really dig eclipses, both solar and lunar. I like to scare little children in making them think I made the moon disappear or the sun disappear. I made my favorite cousin J. cry by doing that many years ago.
91. I also used to tell J. he was adopted and that any hefty woman wearing a halter top that happened by was his mother. He never believed me after a while, imagine that!
92. Now J. is the person who has the right to pull the plug on me in my living will...he now has the ultimate ability to get even!
93. As a child, if you had given me a blank sheet of paper and asked me to draw anything, I would either have drawn a fireworks stand or a farm with fences and long-eared equines behind the fences.
94. I used to think my grandfather had the ability to fix everything. That's probably why I like that role now and then.
95. I have never been too worked up about not having heirs. I have a feeling that the DNA in my family is really screwed up and it's not going to hurt for some of it to dead-end.
96. When I lived in Columbia, I used to take vacations in Kirksville. People found that really really strange. I still usually "stay home" on vacation weeks and maybe take a "real vacation trip" once a year.
97. Christmas is my least favorite holiday; 4th of July and Halloween are my favorites.
98. I get tired of my birthday (March 27th) often falling on Holy Week. It sucks to have your birthday on Good Friday.
99. I would never change a single thing about me or avoid a single thing that has happened in my life if I could go back in time. I just would not choose to live some things twice!
...and finally....
100. When I die, I believe I will see all my dogs first before I see other people.
But enough about me, I hope some of my blogfriends will follow on Ruth's lead like I did!
