engagement post (better late than never)

it happened on the 21st of february. we took a trip to inís mór. and david griffith asked me to be his wife.

that part makes me happy.

the part where he left and went back to the states makes me sad.

but the part where we look forward to the future together... that's a very good part.

there's a roast on the floor

i am sitting in my adopted living room, sipping hot cider with david and renee.

there is a roast in the crockpot on the floor next to me. it will be there for a few more hours.

for more adventures in cooking in the laurel pad, see renee's blog.

a triune chord

it's been a litte while since an abstract thought really got me going, but last week my sister had me read an article about a guy who had spoken at one of her chapels at college. it was about how music can inform our understanding of theology.

a couple of years ago i read dorothy sayers' the mind of the maker. sayers was saying that God has left his image on creation... and so a lot of things that we take as theological mysteries are actually displayed in our daily lives. for example, the trinity. how do we wrap our heads around three persons in one godhead? but a book is both the creative idea that conceives it, the tangible manifestation of that idea in book form, and the effect that the book has on those who read it. the Father--the creative conceiver; the Son--the tangible incarnation; and the Spirit--the continual effector.

jeremy begbie, the guy the article was about, draws out the idea of trinity in a musical chord. in a chord, each note remains unique and individual, but the three notes blend together in harmony to create a whole chord. while objects can't occupy the same space (and our minds tend to work in terms of objects, thereby making the trinity a difficult concept), sound can. here's a link to an interview with begbie and one to the abstract of an interview he did with mars hill. he's also got a book out called beholding the glory. i'm too cheap to buy it, but if anyone else does, i'd love to hear about it.

i don't have much to say about all of this other than that i love to discover new ways that God has revealed himself in creation and in art. a while ago, pat wallin posted on the role of art in the church. something that we've lost in the modern evangelical tradition (which is making a comeback in the emergent church) is a respect for God's revelation in the arts. we have been created in the image of our creator God to be creative. it's not a frivolous thing. it's vital--it's intrinsic to our understanding of who our Father is.

i voted for bush

i just found out that i'm a flaming liberal feminist. i'm always a little amused to find out how people perceive me (i tend to keep to myself, which means people end up drawing their own conclusions), but i have to say this one has come as quite a surprise.

somewhere between high school and now, i stopped being ultra-conservative. i know that. living and traveling in europe helped me to question some of my presuppositions and try to see the validity in the 'other side.' i know that, too. and i started to really love the unique voice that women have--the beauty and the strength--and i've wanted to hear it expressed more. i long to see men honor women by encouraging and validating their voices.

but i didn't know that all of these things added up to being a flaming liberal feminist. here's how i found out: i started hanging out with a guy who works for the united states secret service. he carries a gun. he wears body armor. he protects the white house. and as i've started telling people about him, they're shocked. really. several people have implied that his job surely must clash with all of my ideals. as liberal as i (apparently) am, it doesn't seem possible that i would be comfortable with someone who works for The Man.

there are many layers of irony here, but the one i find most humorous is that i actually voted for bush. there were several extra-political reasons that i did, but none of the political ramifications were strong enough for me to decide not to vote for him. and i'll be honest--i've kind of resented the fact that i've had to keep that on the DL. i'm not saying that i'm 100% behind everything bush does. there's a lot that i don't agree with. but aside from the politics, i resent the fact that i lose cool points because of the way i voted. i am absolutely against the idea that to be christian is to be republican. that is anathema to me. (i went to a church the sunday before july 4 where they sang patriotic songs instead of hymns and preached on why the constitution is worthy of respect. i had to dig my fingernails into the pews in order to avoid jumping up and screaming. this is the first time in four years that i've been in the states for the fourth, and the whole thing was so strange. can i just point out how appropriate it is that our major national holiday is a celebration of independence? bullheaded american independence. we will depend on no one.) but i don't think the solution is to vote against the 'moral majority' to maintain edginess.

so this is my public confession: i voted for bush. twice.

you may now think less of me. but i warn you: if you think less of me for this, i will probably think less of you.

a fresh coat of paint

when my sister got home from her first year of college in may, she decided to redecorate her room before moving her stuff back in. her room hadn't changed for the eight years that we've lived in this house. so for a week the entire family was stepping over suitcases and milk cartons full of clothes and books and picture frames, stacked in the hallways and on the stairs and in the laundry room. we stripped the old border off--the one she was never quite sure she liked, though she had never hated it. we painted over the neutral sand color on the walls--a color she had always resented because she hadn't picked it--with a bold rose color. (i'll spare you the description of the kickass cutting in job i did. i'm a little ocd when it comes to cutting in. i have dreams about it.) we hung new curtains. we rearranged the furniture.

the other night i was hanging out in her room while she hung some pictures. we got talking about the way going away changes you--how it affects your identity and sense of self. and how one of the hardest things about going away and coming back is that the people you left expect you to be what you were when you left.

i think everyone rubs up against that at some point in their lives. you go away to college, or leave for a summer. you establish a life of your own somewhere, and then try to come back and interact with your parents. you go abroad and interact with the ideas and customs of another culture. you experience some dramatic healing from some lifelong crap.

i've done all of the above over the last few years. and it's always hard to come back and translate the changes. how do you communicate subtle internal changes? slight realignments of identity? i went with a friend of mine in ireland last year to pierce her nose before she came back to the states. i usually come back and purge my wardrobe. i've changed--those clothes are no longer an expression of my self. i cut my hair. i do my make-up differently. i change my language. like sharon redecorating her room, i need some sort of external manifestation of the changes that have taken place. i need a fresh coat of paint to remind myself that i am not the woman i was.

said the beggar

just came across this poem i wrote early last year (inspired by a dublin beggar) and it made me chuckle.

i will get a
9 to 5 job.
i will buy a
three piece suit.
it will be my
holiday from
this life of
ease.

i've taken a bit of a holiday from blogging because it was pissing me off. may be food for later posts, but for now i'll sign off with a plug for stephenhill.info. i was just listening to his 'jesus said' demo cd this afternoon for the first time in a while and remembered how much i like it.

stephen, when does the cd come out?

it's we we we who build community--boom boom boom

i'm in chicago this week with my sister and brother-in-law. last night we went downtown to the 'taste of chicago.' a bunch of area restaurants set up booths and sell their specialities. it's a great street carnival of food. you buy tickets and then crawl from booth to booth, eating. you can buy whole meals or just a bunch of 'taste portions.' the booths take up three or four city blocks.

sarah and nate live outside of the city, so we drove in and parked. it was raining a bit, but there were still a lot of people--not so many that it was claustrophobic, but enough that it felt alive and buzzing. it was one of the most beautiful things i've ever done in a city. we walked with the crowd (or against it) and sampled food. the food was from all over: mexico, jamaica, thailand, puerto rico, china, italy, germany, india, ireland. the people were from every imaginable walk of life. and everyone was there to eat and enjoy. it wasn't overly commercialized. there were booths for cell phones and army recruitment and (my personal favorite) maalox... but they weren't an overwhelming presence. it was about the food.

and because everyone was there for the food, it was about community as well. it was a celebration of chicago. it was a feast on the best the city had to offer.

at one end, we took an extra loop that took us through a new park that the city just built. in the park, right across the street from some towering examples of chicago-style architecture, there are two identical, rectangular brick structures. they're set apart maybe 40 ft, and they're about 20 ft tall. water falls in sheets on all four sides of each. periodically, huge digital faces appear on the sides and look at each other and smile and blink. then, suddenly, they purse their lips and blow and jets of water, like 10-ft-high fire hydrants, shoot out of their mouths. it creates a half-inch pool in between the pillars--an open invitation to come and splash and cool off. last night there were kids and adults laughing and screaming and splashing. we joined the crowd standing around the edges. we started laughing, too. it was something you wanted to be part of--this city enjoyment of life, the shrieks of joy as the water came streaming down. there was a grown man sitting in the water, splashing it over his back. it was refreshing just to watch.

i always love the city. it always reminds me that i'm part of something larger. last night was a taste of heaven. a bunch of dappled people, eating together, enjoying together. it was like a great city worship service.