Please Pass the Cheese

Last year, when we were a few months into full COVID lockdown, I found myself hungry for stories. In Meyers Briggs terms, I'm an INFJ (Introverted iNtuitive Feeling Judging). Stick with me, here. These thoughts are related. I recently read an article about INFJs under extreme stress, and one of the things we tend to do when stressed is binge-watch. Maybe it's the English major in me, but I like to think of life in terms of story. When things are tough, I find comfort in understanding the present season as a chapter in a larger narrative. And I love the idea of being one of so many characters in God's big story of redemption. But boy, when I got to the chapter titled "2020," I was ready to put this book down.  What in the world was happening in our country politically? How did we need to be shaped and changed by the tragic death s of  Ahmaud Arbery  and Ge orge Floyd? How could we continue to weather the layers of challenges brought on by COVID-19? When wou

Last Wednesday pastor Tim Keller spoke in chapel at Wheaton about the formation of identity, and the way self esteem is created. He reminded us of a quote from J. R. R. Tolkien: "The praise of the praiseworthy is above all rewards.” On Friday, those words took on new meaning for me when I heard that Dr. Roger Lundin had passed into the presence of God, and left so many heartbroken by his leaving. Like so many other former students of Dr. Lundin's, I was swept up in the energy and passion he brought to the study of literature. I was a sponge during his classes, soaking up every word of beauty, pathos, pain, and wisdom. His insights and ideas washed over me, making sense of things that were previously obscured to my young mind. His sense of humor and almost childlike delight at the good (and oftentimes silly) things of life were infectious. The honest, vulnerable way he described his own journey through loss, grief, and loneliness into the the hope of faith was refreshing.

Oh my, I've been tagged by my friend Jack Lumanog for an itunes challenge that sounds like a great opportunity to embarrass myself, and you all know I never like to miss one of those. Here are the rules: 1. grab your preferred digital media player. 2. push play in shuffle mode. 3. report … the first 10 tunes that pop up. Now I warn you, this experiment could turn ugly. If you do not like random 60s folk music, Polish choral music, Gilbert and Sullivan operetta, children's songs about pasta or Dan Fogelberg, then I implore you, look away now. Not that my list is guaranteed to include any of the above, but it might, and when the stakes are this high, it's best to give out a warning before you proceed. Okay everyone, hold on to your keyboards, cause here we go: 1) Young Anymore, David Baerwald, "Bedtime Stories" 2) Careless Love, Madeleine Peyroux, "Careless Love" 3) #253 In the Red Brook/Bridge, Sons of the Never Wrong, "Consequences of Speech"

I told God recently that I was bored with him. Pretty gutsy of me, eh? I couldn't believe my own audacity, and yet that was how I felt, and I figured I should at least be honest about my offensive feelings since God knows them anyhow. And I wondered, what would provoke me to tell the God of the universe that I was finding him uninteresting, ho hum, nothing to write home about? What brought me to this point? And did I really mean what I said? After discussing it with my ever-lovin' husband, I realized that what I meant when I told God I was bored with him was that I was actually bored with the ways of knowing him that I have experienced thus far. 25 years of life in the evangelical world has filled my brain with tons of repeated words and ceremony. I'm bored with praise choruses. I'm bored with organ music. I'm bored with guitars and mediocre worship leaders. I'm bored with sermons, and psalms and phrases like "Blessed be the name of the Lord," and &quo

Well, I've been away from the blogging for a bit, but I thought I'd post something to let you all know I'm still alive. Tomorrow is my 31st birthday. I can't believe 30 has already passed me by! However, as our pastor reminded us on Sunday, what's another birthday when we are immortals, destined to live on past this life. 30? That's a drop in the bucket. This life's just getting started! I was reading over my journal (which apparently I only write in once every 6 or 7 months now) and found some questions I was struggling with last year. Sadly, I don't think I've found many answers to any of them. But maybe I'm just more comfortable letting them be there, unresolved for a while. Maybe some of you have struggled with similar questions? If you're interested, here are some of the ones rattling around in my brain: "I wonder about so many things. Where am I going? What are my gifts, really? Should I pursue career advancement when we hope to st

Yesterday I had a procedure done on my ear that used to instill abject fear into me as a child. It's really quite a simple little operation if you watch it done (which you can here if you are interested in that sort of thing: Myringotomy Tube Surgery Video ) A myringotomy, for those of you who aren't up on popular ear surgery lingo, is when they cut a tiny incision in your eardrum and place in the hole a tiny metal or plastic tube, often with flanges on it. It's pretty much like inserting a button into a button hole. Not a huge deal. Unless you're a kid. And they have to knock you out at the hospital to do it. And you have to have it done 12 times by the time you're 10. I remember hearing the news as a child at the doctor's office that I needed another tube put in because the previous set, as usual, had fallen out. My stomach would churn and my heart would race. And then I would dread the event for the whole time until we had to leave for the hospital. One time,