Loving more than the Mu Shu Pork

This morning Judah and I were listening to NPR while partaking of a jar of apples’n’chicken and low-carb Eggo waffles, respectively. They were broadcasting a presidential press conference, talking about things from social security to Korea to the people who ‘hate America’ since they lied/tattled about our out-of-country gulogs (it took me a while to spell “gulogs” - deceptively simply, seems like it should have a lot of hidden vowels).

One reporter brought up the topic of China:

Q I appreciate that, Mr. President, thank you. My question is about China, which looms larger in the lives of Americans, sir. They finance an ever-larger part of our trade deficit, Americans are concerned about China's growing economic might, and, of course, about the oppression of human rights and religious minorities there. My question, sir, is how should Americans think about China? As an ally? A rival? Competitor? Friend?

THE PRESIDENT: I think that we ought -- it is a -- the relationship with China is a very complex relationship, and Americans ought to view it as such. China is a emerging nation. It's an amazing story to watch here. I mean, it's consuming more and more natural resources; it is generating jobs and exporting a lot of goods; it's a massive market.

And so, on one hand, we ought to look at China as an economic opportunity, and the best way to deal with China is to -- is to say, look, there are some rules, and we expect you to abide by the trade rules. And as this -- as she grows and as trade becomes more complex, you'll see more and more instances where the United States is insisting upon fair trade. We expect our -- expect to deal with -- expect China to deal with the world trade in a fair way.

Now, in terms of security matters, obviously, we just spent a lot of time talking about North Korea. China can be a very good partner in helping to secure the world. The best way to convince Kim Jong-il to get up -- give up his weapons is to have more than one voice saying the same thing. And, therefore, China is a partner in this case, in terms of helping to secure that part of the world from nuclear weapons.

China, as well, can be helpful in the war on terror. They're just as concerned as we are on the war on terror.

China is a -- obviously, there's tension on -- about Taiwan that we have to deal with. And I made my position very clear and very consistent about Taiwan. The Taiwanese understand my position; the Chinese understand my position. So, in this case, the relationship is one of helping to solve that problem, is to keeping stability in the region so that eventually there will be a peaceful solution to that issue.

And so China is a fascinating country that is significant in its size. Its economy is still small, but growing. But, as well, I believe we have an obligation to remind the Chinese that any hopeful society is one in which there's more than just economic freedom, that there's religious freedom and freedom of the press. And so, in my meetings with the different Chinese leaders with whom I've had the honor of meeting, I've always brought up issues such as the Dalai Lama, or the Catholic Church's inability to get a bishop into the country, or the need for the country not to fear evangelicals, but to understand religious freedom leads to peace. And so I'll continue doing that so long as I'm the President, and at the same time help deal with this very complex relationship.

It got me to thinking about China. I don’t really know a lot about the country. My dad’s been to visit, I’ve seen the *long* movie in the China exhibit at Epcot, and I enjoy our local Chinese restaurant - that’s about the extent.

I’ve heard some rumblings that China’s poised to be the next superpower as the U.S.’s star is fading (running out of matter to consume) into the background. They’ve got resources, people, and drive. I don’t think of it as a threat but rather the natural flow of things. Are grandparents threatened that their grandchildren who are thriving and taking the lead? Probably some, but that’s kinda silly: the old passes away and the new comes.

What’s helpful is when the grandparents offer their wisdom to the younger generation: advice from the mistakes, ideas from things that worked, not necessarily forms or structures but rather *truths* that they discovered. Knowing that China will probably shape things for the world, would it not be worthwhile to make a concerted effort to be missional and incarnational in China? Not in hopes that their government would ever adopt Christianity and advance its “policies” - I’m not talking about setting up another Constantinian-push. They will have the most effective means to influence the world, and they might not have as many obstacles (the idea that church is a building, pouring money into church administration instead of being present in the community, etc.) to overcome -- perhaps somewhat of a blank slate? (I say this in ignorance of their history - please be kind with comments). :)

Northwest Yearly Meeting has a wonderful program for folks who’d like to teach English in China. Oftentimes it's hard to get into the country, but Dennis Hagen has connections with folks who really desire English-speaking teachers. I’ve heard wonderful and powerful stories come from there as the participants encounter individuals and meet them where they’re at.

Christ didn’t move through the government or the established religious structures: he moved through the individual people. Wouldn't it be joyous to work with folks who could do the same?

Feeding your missional spirit

A friend and I were talking about our weeks, discussing what sorts of events were coming up. Her church was putting on a skit night. Not feeling secure in her thespian abilities, she was reluctant to attend. I asked, “Do you have to bring something?”, seeing as how food is usually the primary lure to get folks to attend such church functions. “Yes,” she sighed: she had a lot going on already, so the thought of having to prepare a dish seemed like another line to add to the ‘to do’ list.

But for myself, that’s where the fun would’ve begun. I love watching The Food Network (see how I’ve capitalized the ‘t’? When “the” is capitalized, that means it is of utmost grandiose importance . . . or else I can’t remember the proper use of capitalization and figure, Heck! Biggie-size the whole thing). They create these grand dishes to wow and amaze your friends and family: from easy entertaining to meals cooked in half an hour, each chef not only exhibits a gorgeous yummy cuisine, but they spend a great deal of time convincing the viewers at home that “you too can make this easy and delicious meal”. That is, if you have people to eat it.

In my abode, it’s just me and my hubby: it could take us a week to get through a casserole. True, there’s a little one who lives here as well, but his food still must be milky or squishy to ingest. Due to blood sugar issues, I stay away from white flour and sugar. Do you know how many recipes this cuts out? I don’t even know why I bother watching “Paula’s Home Cooking” except to hear her massacre the words ‘oil’ (ahwl) and spatula (spatuler).

I saw this great story in our local paper about a person I know who’s being ‘missional’ in her cooking. She and her friends are part of a cooking club in which they take a main course recipe and make ten batches that can be frozen, and then they exchange them, meaning they have a freezer full of homecooked meals that simply need to be popped in the oven. But each time they exchanged meals, they had some left over. Heidi had the great idea of donating them to a local non-profit who distributes the meals to those who are sick or need a good dinner. How wonderful is that?

What a great example of doing something helpful and fun! Maybe someday we’ll see her on The Food Network . . . maybe I can be her helper . . . or at least making “mmm, smells yummy” noises - I’m good at that.

Releasing the Need to Plan

My time writing for Barclay Press has come to a close. As I wrote my last entry, I realized it relates to this blog as well. And so I’m double posting (I know: inexcusable for ‘professional’ bloggers, but hey: when you’ve got why-bother-crawling-when-you-can-walk 8 month old, you’ve got to make the most of your profound thoughts). ;)


I like to plan. Not big things, like where I want to be in twenty years or how to buy a house or ways to invest my retirement account - this humanities major says, “Uck! Tooeytooey!” But I do like to plan for the little things, like how my day is going to go. I plan for lovely little things to happen in an organized and reasonable fashion, but oftentimes the whirling dervish known as my life throws kinks into the plans. When that happens, life and I often have words, and they do not exactly follow the Quaker peace testimony.

For example, I planned to slumber peacefully through the night, waking refreshed and excited for the day. In reality, I woke up to screaming at 5:45am, gathered the noise-maker in my arms.

I planned to fall back to blissful slumber, but in reality became a human punching/grabbing/poking toy (I feel like a walking activity mat).

I planned to have a delightful breakfast of toasted low-carb eggos while listening to a book on tape. In reality, my eggos were consumed in a cold state having put them in the toaster oven, then hearing a *thunk* *SCREAM* as Judah rolled out of our bed onto the floor (I swear, I’m not a negligent parent - nobody gave me the instruction booklet for a wanting-to-walk eight month old), so I dressed, fed, and pampered him while the waffles were neglected. As for the book on tape, Judah likes to compete with the stereo to see who can be the loudest - it’s a reality show I’d rather use the mute button on.

I planned to dress Judah in a pair of adorable red overalls with matching onesie of trucks and construction vehicles given to us at a baby shower: it’s the first time it’s been warm enough to wear it, but his torso’s almost too long for it already. In reality, he wore it for a short while until I noticed a giant growing wet patch on his back where his diaper leaked: joy.

It’s kind of like my opportunity writing on this blog. This open venue is a prime place to advance ideologies, causes, agendas near and dear to my heart. Initially I planned to hit certain topics:

– the importance inner healing
– wonderful resources such as the Journey to Wholeness and New Works
– examples of folks gathering for church in ways that are different than the typical Sunday morning style
– what it might look like to be incarnational/missional
– the blessing and vitalness of connecting with folks in and around your life
– ideas of why young adults no longer attend most church gatherings

In reality I find myself not posting because the idea of blogging about these pontifications . . . well . . . bores me. For the moment, my life is completely grounded in the practical: the “deciding on a restaurant not based on what I want to eat but if they have decent high chairs and fast service”, the “choosing which service to attend not based on attenders but on Judah’s nap schedule”.

But maybe that’s exactly what I needed to focus on. Instead of talking about concepts and lifestyles and theology, I’m actually living it out in my daily moments. I’m so used to classroom learning, regurgitating facts, that I don’t realize that I’m still learning - only it’s *experiential*. I thought that being missional and incarnational, living an intentional life, would involve a lot of thought and planning and . . . well, intention: knowing exactly why I was doing what I was doing.

Maybe it’s best to simply be present in the daily moment, willing to hear God’s whisper of direction, not needing to know *why* I need to do things like go to the store with Judah everyday, but rather letting Him use that for His plans.

Excuse me, this incarnational experience won't scan properly . . .

I previously posted this entry at Barclay Press but thought it would fit here as well.



Judah and I have just returned from our daily trip to the store. We parked in our usual area (not necessarily close to the store entrance but rather close to the cart return), negotiated our cart between restocking produce men, purchased some ‘starter foliage’ in an attempt to bring some lushness inside the apartment, and deftly purchased our materials at the self checkout.

Watching the folks who use the self checkout is an experience in itself. There’s the person with a few items who quickly scans items, pays with debit, and leaves the store all in one breath. Another person with a giant load of groceries and no experience with scanning will spend a good twenty minutes bumbling their way through, but they walk away with a sense of accomplishment. Then there’s the poor folks who get shuttled to the self checkout by the well-meaning cashiers in an attempt to keep the lines down and give the customer confidence in using the machines; usually these folks don’t want to know how to scan (ignorance is bliss), and so they stand there trying to get the barcode to register, listening to the “please wait for cashier assistance” message over and over, and leave grumbling and swearing off the self checkout forever.

Why do I know so much about the customs and culture of the grocery store? Cause I spend time there . . . a lot.

Have you ever heard “Be careful what you pray for?” I have, usually at camp when a speaker was telling a witty story about how they prayed for perseverance or patience or some other quality that generally involved teeth-gritting. I’ve been very careful to pray for things that I can somewhat anticipate what the outcome might be (yes, I do know how silly those words sound - I’m not *that* sleep-deprived) - offering my daily actions to God, wanting to hear His voice more clearly, etc. Praying for character-changing qualities is playing with fire because that God of ours is a tricky creative guy.

So then I prayed to be involved in God’s action, where He’s moving. I became part of the Board of Evangelism for our Yearly Meeting. I met John and Karen Macy, and then it all went downhill. They talked about this concept that tweaked my thinking, opened my eyes, excited me and gave me hope for the church in a way that I’ve never felt. They talked about Incarnational Living.

Incarnational Living involves acknowledging that God’s Light is in us, that we are His bondservants which involves living disciplined lives, listening for and trusting in His direction which gives us freedom to be in the present moment without having to know ‘why am I doing this?’ or ‘where are we going?’ Incarnational Living involves relationships: sharing the Light of Christ, being present with others. And not in another country, but rather *simply being present to the folks in our everyday, walking about, working with, living around lives*.

What a great idea, I thought! What a radically simple way of living! God, that’s what I want: I pray that You teach me how to live incarnationally. And here’s what it’s going to look like: I’m going to quit my job, have this baby, look into doing some job that I have more control over the hours (like grant writing or fiction writing or something creative but solitary) and work part-time from home while my oh-so-content child plays with toys and entertains himself, and I’ll research this whole incarnational living thing and tell folks at church about it. That will be great! Pleaseandthankyou, amen.

[You can take a few moments to chuckle quietly to yourself at my ignorance. Or go ahead: laugh outloud: foolish, foolish mortal that I am.]

You know what happens if you pray for living incarnationally? An extrovert inevitably enters your life. For me, I happened to give birth to one. Judah *loves* being around people. We were in Kansas City a while back for Jason’s mom’s birthday. At a reception Judah floated around the room for three hours being passed from stranger to stranger - he flashed grins, performed rolling tricks on the floor, and not once did he cry or even glance to see if Jason and I were in the room. This kid loves people.

Having a child who loves people does not allow me to stay home very much. I’ve gotten rather frustrated with God: why won’t You let me stay home by myself and look into this whole incarnational living thing? How am I going to tell others what it looks like? (I used to work at a library; researching and sharing information is a bit of a hobby for me, but I rarely use the info for myself.)

God’s kindly answering my prayer. By having to leave the apartment, I’m getting to know my community. Judah and I have made friends with all the cashiers at the store. We’re meeting the little girls who play in our apartment parking lot. We’re getting to know the folks who frequent the library. God’s not only letting me know about living incarnationally; He’s helping me to do it!

So be careful what you pray for, or you may be standing in line at the self checkout with me at the store (I can show you how to use it - it’s really not that hard).

Is there a 12 Step Program for Worship Expression Addicts?

Is the church an addict? Am I along with my fellow gatherers addicted to the way we worship? Is the way I choose to worship more important than being in the relationship with God that He desires for me? If I decide that my worship expression takes precedence over God’s desires, it becomes an idol: I pour myself into the style of worship, expecting to get something back out of it, when really I should be focusing on experiencing and glorifying God’s grace.

Albert Einstein espoused the lovely idea on insanity – doing the same thing over and over, but expecting different results. Each Sunday I expect to: be greeted at the door, look through the bulletin while listening to the prelude, sing a few hymns and worship songs, listen to announcements, participate in the obligatory and awkward meet'n'greet time, listen to a message, pass the offering plate, sit and ponder during open worship, and walk out the door feeling like I'm on the edge of experience true worship but falling short. Each week is greeted with the same troubles and lackluster passion for life. And yet every Sunday I along with many others continue to go back.

But many have given up. What does it say about an organism when its young leave? I wouldn't say that that's too healthy. Something has to change. The church is limping along. Church worship tweaks things here and there, but tinkering with the expression isn’t going to help: we need to get back to the reason *why* those forms were used in the first place. The truths behind the expression are what truly matters.

What would happen if I and my church congregation applied the 12 step program to our Sunday morning gathering? What would God reveal to us about ourselves? Alcohol isn’t bad: it’s just an object. *Abuse* of alcohol is bad. Hymns or praise songs or contemplative prayer or group prayer or times of silence or times of worship aren’t bad: abuse of them is bad. What are we abusing? What are we using to get our weekly 'fix' so that we can struggle through until our next Sunday hit? Can we admit that we can’t control our abuse? What will cause us to hit rockbottom? What will it take to cause an intervention?

Lord, please open my eyes to your creative expressions.

I was gonna be a HouseMama, not a MunchkinMama

I’ve been struggling with living incarnationally. Do you know how hard that is to do with an eight month old munchkin? My days are spent mostly managing fluids (going in one end with the excitement element being trying to anticipate which end fluids will then come out of) and finding items or activities that invoke the longest period of quiet (toys, kitchen utensils, trips to the store, naps, the Food Network).

I’ve been looking at the Biblical character of Anna, the widowed prophetess who is mentioned in Luke when the infant Christ was presented at Herod’s Temple. Anna rocks. Only three verses are mentioned about her, but man, they pack a punch! She lived a completely incarnational life! Which is something to admire, especially after considering that she was widowed at such a young age and didn’t have kids. One would think she wouldn’t have a lot to offer her culture, but Anna and God turned the negatives into positives:

Rather than becoming bitter, she practiced spiritual disciplines.
Rather than withdrawing, she lived in the center of cultural community.
Rather than leaning on her relatives for support, she completely trusted God to provide for her needs.
Rather than balking at being bestowed such a wonderfully complex spiritual gift, she used her prophesying gift.
Rather than remaining only in the temple, she was a member of a seeking faith community to whom she could share this joyous news.

As a child this probably wasn’t the way Anna would’ve imagined being able to live God’s love to her community. If she had children or remarried, most likely her time would’ve been spent focusing on her family. She could’ve focused on all the things she couldn’t do. But she creatively worked within what she *could* do: to be in the temple, to have free time to fast and pray, to share God’s word of Truth to her people.

I always thought that I would be the later-Anna. As a kid, I never dreamed about getting married or having kids: I wanted to write, and I always figured I’d do stuff by myself - a sort of Jo March before she hooked up with Friedrich in the end. In fact, my stock answer in college as to the “so, whatcha gonna do?” question was “Go to Europe. Open up a boarding school so my friends’ kids can get some culture and my friends can get a break.” My friend would be the housemother for the girls (they don't smell as bad), and I'd take care of the boys (they're less psychological). All my dreams involved seating for one, and I was really quite content with that picture.

Well, one husband and one eight-month old later, I’m not so much alone. I know I’m meant to be married and be a parent in an innate feeling-the-peace-of-God-in-the-situation sort of way. The way it came about – not desiring or demanding it, but rather being pleasantly surprised that these things happened in my life - affirms me that I'm moving in God's will.

And yet my dreams of living incarnationally still reside in those dreams of old: going off to do missions in Africa or Ireland, spending countless hours writing, having a full-time ministry job or a full-time volunteer position. My idea of serving God is in a solitary sense. Perhaps it’s because it’d be less-cumbersome that way, less dynamics to deal with, less people to be accountable to. Perhaps it’s because my family and I tend to be ‘lone wolves’ - we do our own thing. Perhaps it’s because my dreams contained elements I could expect, anticipate, control.

I don’t know how to be incarnational as a wife and mother of an eight month old. I can’t do what I’m used to doing: volunteering, writing, even sitting in silence. I can't get out in the community that I knew of old. But just as Anna’s position in life allowed her to serve God and her community, I have faith that my position will do the same. Doors are going to be opened that I can’t even imagine. I pray that I have the wisdom to walk through those doors rather than peering through and fearing the unknown territory.

Oh, to be my father's daughter

I’ve been pondering more regarding my Yearly Meeting workshop: I know - what a shock. :) Most presenters probably aren’t putting this much thought into their hour or two hour slots, but this topic is something that’s been nagging at my heart as well as something to look forward to in the current driven- by-daily-routine-rather-than-extraordinary-activities state of my life.

It’s been such a blessing to be in contact with folks who care as well, who’ve had experience presenting and sharing the passions of their heart, who are actually interested. I recently had a conversation with my husband regarding the fact that I don’t want to be my dad. Now, that’s not completely true: he’s a man who seeks after God’s will with such vigor and driven-ness that others tend to put up shields of defensiveness or apathy. Each year at our Yearly Meeting sessions he would give his Sunday night superintendent’s address, and each year he had a message that would ‘rock the boat! Cause big waves! This could be the year I get the axe!’ And each year people got crabby, but the majority just shrugged their shoulders and went “Enh.” If they truly heard and understood the radical nature of the message, they would’ve been blown away. But generally they didn’t grasp the message or they chose to dumb it down: conscientious apathy is a wretched thing to overcome.

So I was pondering what direction to take my class: the ‘nice’ route, or the ‘Dad’ route. The nice route is scratching the surface: see if folks have young adults attending their churches, if they know where their young adults have gone, if they can think of ways to connect with them one-on-one - build relationships - be missional and incarnational - what that might look like.

The ‘Dad’ route is digging to the core: see if folks have functional churches, if young adults aren’t the only population leaving, if they spend most of their time on administrative duties rather than evangelizing and discipling, if their worship gatherings are a time of celebration or the only time they’re being fed during the week, if their board and committee structures get anything done or sap time and energy from folks, if the structure of the church and yearly meeting is functional or an eroding model from a previous generation/culture/time frame that no longer applies, *if we worship they way we do church and business more than we worship God*. Offspring tends to leave unhealthy areas: should we get to the absolute core of the problem? I mean, if we’re going to talk about stuff, let’s not tip-toe around and use band-aids: let’s dig out the infection and get this healed up properly!

The response could be one of three things: received with the love, grace, and concern that it was intended, prompting folks to seek if God’s saying the same thing to them; received as a personal attack, thereby causing shields to go up; processed as a ‘nice message, but not realistic’ - deadly apathy!

My husband, so wise for his years, lives out the principles I so greatly appreciated from Nouwen’s “Teaching” chapter of Creative Ministry. He offered up the idea of class involvement: put the question out to them. As opposed to the ‘teacher’ knowing everything (unilateral teaching), the teacher recognizes that the students have as much to offer as the teacher does (bilateral teaching). That’s been my paralyzing fear: I don’t have all the answers. And what if the way I express my thoughts and hypotheses cause folks to shut down rather than further explore? Jason voiced the opinion that folks don’t often like to be told what’s wrong, but they often have an idea of what’s not working and enjoy pointing it out themselves. Plus, it creates involvement by giving to the conversation rather than simply receiving, as well as discussion makes it more applicable and personally relevant to their situation. Such a brilliant and helpful husband of mine.

So my perception of the workshop has changed. Perhaps it shouldn’t be so information-oriented as much as a forum for folks to discuss the current state of their young adult attendance. I don’t have to have ‘the answers’ as much as create the space and provide some tools for folks to explore themselves. Interesting ... .

I think I dropped my hammer . . .

Creative Ministry by Henri Nouwen
Chapter 1: “Teaching”

“In fields like medicine, sociology, psychology, chemistry, biology, economics, and even theology, there is an amazing preoccupation with manipulative devices and the degree to which they satisfy immediate needs, relate to urgent problems, and keep an acceptable balance in the style of our lives. ‘Getting things under control’ is what keeps most teachers and students busy, and a successful teacher is often the individual who creates the conviction that man has the necessary tools to tame the dangerous lion he is going to face as soon as he leaves the training field” (5).

I’m facilitating a workshop this summer for our annual area denominational sessions. How did an introvert such as myself fall into such an uncomfortable role? At our mid-year sessions I got into a discussion with fellow Board of Evangelism members on the topic of young adults: why are there so few in our yearly meeting? Where are they at? Our middle and high school programs seem to thrive, but once graduation comes, there seems to be a big, black hole. Some feel that we’ve thrown lifelines; others feel we’ve cut lifelines - what does the picture look like now, and where could we head from here?

I don’t know how to lead this discussion. I don’t have the answers. And perhaps that’s the best way to start. When my mind begins to sort through information, experiences, hypotheses, and other tid bits I’ve collected along the way, I assume that they will fall nicely into place and paint a beautiful, grand, Big Picture with The Answer. But as my fathe’r’s told me, “Figure out where the young folks are going, write a book, and you’ll be set for life.”

My initial inclination is to be a teacher that has everything “under control”. I want immediate answers. I want folks to leave feeling encouraged and strengthened rather than discouraged and questioning.

How silly is that?!!? Hello: am I leaving any room for the Spirit to work? That’s a bit daunting - creating room for a Being that can’t be weighed, measured, or controlled to move, encourage, strengthen, plant seeds, bring to fruition.

Perhaps I should be happy, thankful, leap with joy if folks leave the workshop:
– uncomfortable. . . with the status quo
– with more questions than answers . . . that will pick at them to keep seeking
– discouraged . . . and turning to the Spirit for direction

I keep feeling like things need to change in the Yearly Meeting, or else it will die. But could the greater question be: has God blessed the Yearly Meeting to remain in existence? Is He desiring for this group of Quaker gatherers to take a different shape? I don’t have all the answers or the tools or the means to control: but I do have listening ears, a willing Spirit, and a desire to follow.

Baby Mozart and Life Preparation

Creative Ministry by Henri Nouwen
CHAPTER 1: “Teaching”

“If teaching means providing man with enough academic weapons to outdo his fellow man, to make more money, to have a better career, and more esteem in his neighborhood, we had better start asking ourselves if there is any word from God that supports this approach” (3).

Being a mom in this day and age is hard. It’s probably been hard since time began, each generation having their own societal challenges and expectations to either succumb to or overcome. A current hurdle: too much information. Science attempts to quantify and qualify all elements of what leads to the ‘ultimate parenting machine’: are you stimulating your child 24 hours a day? Is it the proper and edifying stimulation? Are they involved in enough activities? Playgroups? Mommy-and-me yoga classes? Are you listening to Baby Mozart while playing with Lamaze stacking blocks and Leap Frog animated books? Are you talking to your child while changing their diaper so they can start to grasp pronouns and objects?

This type of ‘helpful parenting’ suggestions makes me inadequate and weary. I feel like it is solely my responsibility to adequately prepare Munchkin for the Big Bad World. What’s bothersome is not trying to manage the abundance of activities and hints that are suggested as much as the threat of what will happen if they aren’t followed. My child could be destined to live a life of mediocrity and insecurity due to an inadequate amount of infant massages. When should I send him to therapy because I let him cry in his crib for five minutes past the recommended time?

The other unspoken fact lies in the competitive spirit that has made this country ‘great’: if you don’t do it, someone else will. All parents have access to this information: it’s the *good* parents who best put it fully into practice. It’s not so much about making Munchkin a whole and happy person as it is equipping him to compete with his peers. By teaching mastering the ABCs in his toddler years, he’ll advance farther and faster in school, boosting his self-esteem and confidence which buoys him into a competitive college and masters program, helping him to land that ultimate job which gives him a profound sense of self-worth and a meaningful life experience. If he doesn’‘t, his classmates will excel beyond him, dooming him to a life of flipping burgers and resenting his parents for not properly equipping him to do battle in the real world.

The type of thinking makes sense in a petty, small-minded, insecure world. What if Munchkin’s peers were not competitors, but fellow journeyers? What if the most important thing to be learned is how to love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength; and to love your neighbor as yourself? What if the prime directive is not to land the perfect job and the perfect life, but rather to do justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with our God? How can these ‘helpful parenting tips’ work into that larger picture? Gives a different approach to teaching, don’t you think?

Why the Duchess?

I love Alice in Wonderland & Through the Looking Glass and have since I was a young tyke. My folks purchased the tale for me on tape, and I would spend hours playing it over and over. Much time was spent scrounging for batteries to replenish my red and yellow tape recorder so that I could listen while being a 'good child' and playing outside (multi-tasking begins at such a young age).

While the fondness for this childhood tale is nothing extraordinary (the story is beloved enough to have been Disneyfied), my persistent affection is somewhat odd in that I've never really related to or associated with Alice. Most of my favorite stories contain characters, storylines, situations that had a comforting sense of familiarity: Diana Barry (Anne of Green Gable's best friend) was chubby, Jo March wanted to be a writer, Beezus Quimby couldn't draw, etc. Many writing classes promote the idea that the characters in a story must evoke some sense of empathy - the reader will not engage if they cannot relate.

Alice is a young dreamer, but she is a character that has few similarities to my life experiences: a blonde, British, younger sister who's dense enough to think that she was going to fall through the earth to Australia [anyone knows that if you're falling through the earth, you'll land in China]. =) Perhaps the fanciful characters bring me back; perhaps the lure of the 'cult classic' calls; perhaps I needed an answer to 'what's your favorite story' and this story elicited the most favorable response among adults; perhaps I'll never know what ties me to this surreal fairytale.

As I pondered the title for my weblog, my mind drew a blank. What could sum up thoughts regarding:

-- my walk'n'talk with Christ -- emerging church -- postmodern culture -- what does church gatherings look like for young adults? -- is Quakerdom being responsive to the moving of the Spirit? -- ramblings invoked by the readings of Nouwen, Merton, L'Engle, etc. -- desert mothers and fathers in the 21st century -- simple church movements -- authentic living -- finding my identity in my Abba Father -- mysticism -- being who God calls me to be -- ??!!??

What could encompass these elements of my rambling lifewalk?

The Duchess is a character known for wanting to moralize, or sum up, conversations: everything must have a meaning. “Everything’s got a moral, if only you can find it.” However, most of her conclusions are utter nonsense that don't relate to the present discussion, or are meanings that are convoluted by excess words flowery notations. I have a framed card sitting on my desk that summarizes a quote by the Duchess:

"'Be who you are,' said the Duchess to Alice, 'Or, if you would like it put more simply, never try to be what you might have been, or could have been, other than what you should have been.'"

In the midst of all her wordiness the Duchess’s intention and meaning are good and exactly what I truly desire: to be as I have been created to be. The Duchess also serves as a reminder that a) not all situations require a ‘lesson learned’ and 2) keep it simple, stupid.

And so as I wander through the madness of my daily activities, who better to wander with in the quest to be real – authentic – true – my God-created self?