Friday, April 24, 2009
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
view from the top
I went hiking yesterday with a small group of my students. We hiked to the top of the mountian nearest to my city. I love the view up here.
Wednesday, April 08, 2009
Sunday, April 05, 2009
on perspiration
I inadvertently gave up wearing deodorant for Lent.
Okay. Warning: this will be a weird post, but I wanted to share this because it's been floating around in the jetsam of my brain lately.
I didn't mean to fast my smooth cashmere dove anti-perspirant. It just sort of happened after I realized that I'm not really a big sweater (cable-knit, or otherwise) and don't really need to wear something to keep me from perspiring. (I may change my mind in the summer.) So, here are the two directions my thoughts are going.
1. I need to simplify my life. Why do something just because? There are a lot of areas in my life that could use a spring cleaning, and it probably ought to be an intentional purging rather than an afterthought like this deodorant happening.
2. Why are we so quick to stop something that is natural? What's the purpose of sweat? Okay, I'll do the google work for you. It's our body's way of cooling itself down. It's a response to what is happening internally. Is it really a good idea to keep my body from doing something that it was created to do? I've thought about this when I get a headache and automatically reach for the tylenol. Maybe if I had eaten a regular meal on a regular schedule or had enough water, I wouldn't have a headache. It's a consequence of the decisions or indecisions that I make.
A book I read a while back by Philip Yancey called Where is God When It Hurts really brought this topic to my notice for the first time. I'm not sure if I remember all the details exactly but, pain is a NECESSITY for people who have leprosy. This disease basically leaves the body numb from pain and a person can get dangerous infections from something like wearing ill-fitting shoes. The symptoms and the illness are not the same. Yancey called pain the "gift that no one wants." We need pain to know that something is messed up in our bodies.
I've been listening to some sermon podcasts from Mars Hill Bible church in Grand Rapids for a while. The Lent series has been working through the book of Lamentations (which is actually a poem. Did you know that?) One sermon focused on the art of the lament and how we, in our culture, rush through grief and sadness. Think about it. When someone is crying, we tell them "ssshhh, don't cry. It's okay."
I don't know why I'm afraid of feeling so much sometimes. Am I afraid that I will be consumed by my emotions? I remember giving a presentation in college and for some reason, I was really emotional that day; I think one of my friends was going through a hard time and I was hurting for her. I started my presentation and broke down in front of the class. I had to excuse myself and pull myself together. Later that night, I saw my professor and apologized for breaking down and botching up my assignment. He looked me in the eyes and said, "Millie, someone who feels so deeply doesn't need to apologize." Wow. Those words come back to me again and again.
My first roommate from Anderson died last October suddenly from a brain aneurysm. I'm still in shock. We weren't in regular communication but I was able, by God's gracious wisdom, to spend a few days with her before I came to Japan. She had some really encouraging things to say to me and I'm so thankful I had that time with her. I've rushed through my grief for Rachel. I've done the same thing with the terrible car accident that my family was in 6 years ago. I've got stacks and stacks of hurts waiting for me in a dusty corner of my heart. Occasionally, I'll pick up a crumpled paper and start to read it but put it down before the reality of my pain takes over. I'm not overwhelmed by the stack anymore though. The little bit that I read, even the tiniest bit, is swallowed whole by the good love of God. I don't understand this crazy love and this goodness because His ways are far, far beyond me. But even so, I feed him the little bits of paper when I can and trust that someday we will have shredded through the whole stack.
Okay. Warning: this will be a weird post, but I wanted to share this because it's been floating around in the jetsam of my brain lately.
I didn't mean to fast my smooth cashmere dove anti-perspirant. It just sort of happened after I realized that I'm not really a big sweater (cable-knit, or otherwise) and don't really need to wear something to keep me from perspiring. (I may change my mind in the summer.) So, here are the two directions my thoughts are going.
1. I need to simplify my life. Why do something just because? There are a lot of areas in my life that could use a spring cleaning, and it probably ought to be an intentional purging rather than an afterthought like this deodorant happening.
2. Why are we so quick to stop something that is natural? What's the purpose of sweat? Okay, I'll do the google work for you. It's our body's way of cooling itself down. It's a response to what is happening internally. Is it really a good idea to keep my body from doing something that it was created to do? I've thought about this when I get a headache and automatically reach for the tylenol. Maybe if I had eaten a regular meal on a regular schedule or had enough water, I wouldn't have a headache. It's a consequence of the decisions or indecisions that I make.
A book I read a while back by Philip Yancey called Where is God When It Hurts really brought this topic to my notice for the first time. I'm not sure if I remember all the details exactly but, pain is a NECESSITY for people who have leprosy. This disease basically leaves the body numb from pain and a person can get dangerous infections from something like wearing ill-fitting shoes. The symptoms and the illness are not the same. Yancey called pain the "gift that no one wants." We need pain to know that something is messed up in our bodies.
I've been listening to some sermon podcasts from Mars Hill Bible church in Grand Rapids for a while. The Lent series has been working through the book of Lamentations (which is actually a poem. Did you know that?) One sermon focused on the art of the lament and how we, in our culture, rush through grief and sadness. Think about it. When someone is crying, we tell them "ssshhh, don't cry. It's okay."
I don't know why I'm afraid of feeling so much sometimes. Am I afraid that I will be consumed by my emotions? I remember giving a presentation in college and for some reason, I was really emotional that day; I think one of my friends was going through a hard time and I was hurting for her. I started my presentation and broke down in front of the class. I had to excuse myself and pull myself together. Later that night, I saw my professor and apologized for breaking down and botching up my assignment. He looked me in the eyes and said, "Millie, someone who feels so deeply doesn't need to apologize." Wow. Those words come back to me again and again.
My first roommate from Anderson died last October suddenly from a brain aneurysm. I'm still in shock. We weren't in regular communication but I was able, by God's gracious wisdom, to spend a few days with her before I came to Japan. She had some really encouraging things to say to me and I'm so thankful I had that time with her. I've rushed through my grief for Rachel. I've done the same thing with the terrible car accident that my family was in 6 years ago. I've got stacks and stacks of hurts waiting for me in a dusty corner of my heart. Occasionally, I'll pick up a crumpled paper and start to read it but put it down before the reality of my pain takes over. I'm not overwhelmed by the stack anymore though. The little bit that I read, even the tiniest bit, is swallowed whole by the good love of God. I don't understand this crazy love and this goodness because His ways are far, far beyond me. But even so, I feed him the little bits of paper when I can and trust that someday we will have shredded through the whole stack.
Wednesday, April 01, 2009
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