a bad bad blogger

I am, I know. I can attempt to justify myself by saying that I am one fantastic churchgoer, an dedicated bumper-to-bumper driver, a sometimes late night worker and I think, a good friend, but there is no excuse. Blogging is a priority too!

I have, in this, yet another, blogging intermission, thought of many great ideas for a post. I was going to write a funny story comparing artists and logicians, which has been a point of amusement in this crunch time at work. Rob is an artist. He is an excellent designer, he loves stories, and cartoon characters and is goofy and funny. He is now faced with the daunting task of designing a new textbook on formal logic. He has discovered that formal logic has, inherently, no imagery whatsoever. Rob asked and begged the authors (yes, we have warmly referred to them as egg-heads) for some ideas. He begged for examples. "What," he said, "is the real life purpose, the application, the VERY REASON that ANYONE would EVER want or need to learn formal logic?" The poor egg-heads simply blinked, and we truly believe that the question had never remotely occured to them. One had the nerve, the guts, the imagination, to offer a foundation, a flat, rectangular flat sheet of concrete on the ground, as an idea for imagery. I think Rob almost exploded.

In the end it is working out. The book isn't ready for design yet anyway, and I think we have settled on a structural engineering theme, using blueprint like images of bridges and skyscrapers and, I hope, some gothic cathedrals.

I wanted to write earlier and tell everyone that they must, if they can still find it, go and see the movie Miss Potter. It is the story of Beatrix Potter, but it is about everything that a good story is about. It is about taking the risk to do somthing that is uniquely you, about friendship, about love in a beautifully unpredictable way, about pain and disappointment, about publishing, and about the earth and the beauty of creation.

I am also reading a great great book. I have been hearing the name Wendell Berry absolutely everywhere lately, so upon these glowing recomendations I am reading Jayber Crow. Please read it. Go go buy it now. Maybe it makes life seem simpler than it feels to me these days, but it is about how God leads us, and how that may not be where we thought we were going, but he is leading us to be who he made us, and to serve others as we are, and he is leading us home.

I could also write about our home. Kelly and I pray for this house sometimes, and it seems like people are blessed when they come here. Last night, while she was here alone, Kelly annointed our house. She dipped her finger in oil and drew a cross onto our back door. We had the back door replaced several months ago, and though she had done this when we first moved in, last night she suddenly thought to do it again. And lo and behold, I dragged a bunch of friends home from Bible study last night, and gave them tea, and we sat laughing and talking around the living room. My friend Mike found a poem by Hannah on our fridge, that she wrote for us when we moved here. It is called Blessing for a House, and after reading it, he kept talking about how it made him think of Thanksgiving dinner, and a horn of plenty spilling out onto the table. One guy who came last night, who is a very new aquaintance to most of us, is not a Christian. There was a rather intense discussion at Bible study about why that is, and I think it came down to his belief that if he couldn't forgive his own sins, then God probably couldn't either. So he sat on the gold chair from my grandmother and looked at my paintings and told stories and asked questions. And when he left he said thanks, and walked out the back door. Behind him, my friend Stephanie, who hasn't been to my house in months said, "Is this a new door?" And I only heard the full story this morning, catching up with Kelly and putting the pieces together.

Some other ideas I have been thinking of writing about involve worship, and the various expressions that I have encountered over the last few weeks. This is a big topic, and I think it will be ongoing, so stay tuned. But the other night I met with few others on the worship team ( I didn't want to go, of course. I was too busy, etc...) and we were able to discuss some of our ideas and visions, and then we prayed together, and I haven't had a prayer time like that for years. So what is God up to? I am not sure, but he is working on something and I find that I am full of delight and desire for who He is in the meantime, and worship itself takes on a whole new (not really new) meaning.

Easter Hats

We had some camera problems, yes, but I think the blur adds to the gauzy, feminine atmosphere. The Easter hat is coming back...

the little things

Isn't it difficult to manage all of the little things we have to do? Take this morning. My car needed a new clutch and I took it to the shop over the weekend. I called them to see if it is finished yet, which it is not. Today I need to stay late at work, so I thought it would work out perfectly to take this morning to pick up my car and make up my hours after work. But now, I still have to stay late at work, and will have to get my car another time, so I am sitting in my living room in the middle of the rug with my computer on my lap blogging, because I am overdue on this too. The house is messy and I need to pack lunch and pay my car insurance and all these other little irritating things that you just have to do sometime to get through this day to day life.
It has been beautiful outside though. Yesterday felt like heaven and Rob said it made him want to go to Disney World and stand in a long line. I went on a walk over the weekend. A slow long turn around Shank Park, and observed a proud father-to-be bluebird perched over his new house. He was so still and so focused on keeping an eye out, and faithfully guarding his post. I envy his singularity of purpose and the ability to put his body and mind in one place.
There is so much to do at work. I should just go in and not think about taking comp time. There are orders to send, letters to write, hotels to book, questions to anwer, books to edit, calls to make, and it just goes on and on.
And then I start thinking about big things. I think about God and what choices are right or wrong. I think about my friends and all that is going on in their lives and wonder what God is doing. I think about the fact that I am getting more critical and I have lower opinion of the human race than I used to. We are so messed up and make stupid decisions all the time.
But in the meantime there are good little things too, and I have to be careful not to miss them. My tulips are up and are promising to bloom if the rabbits don't eat them. My cousing Christy sent me a picture of her new little daughter dressed in a cow outfit that I sent as a gift and it made me laugh and laugh, and there is nothing like being tickeled by five children at a time with palm branches, and then watching them totally forget to sing...
And in the meantime, it is Holy Week. That is certainly a big thing to fit in among the little ones. The biggest, and the most easy to miss.
Maybe it is good that my car is not done and that I am not running all over central PA to pick it up and then get to work. Maybe it is good to be sitting on the floor in the middle of the rug and be thinking about little things and how, in the end, they come together to form the big ones.

But I should really go pack my lunch.