Animal, Vegetable, Miracle: a book review

It's the worst of bad manners — and self-protection, I think, in a nervously cynical society — to ridicule the small gesture. These earnest efforts might just get us past the train-wreck of the daily news, or the anguish of standing behind a child, looking with her at the road ahead, searching out redemption where we can find it: recycling or carpooling or growing a garden or saving a species or something. Small, stepwise changes in personal habits aren't trivial. Ultimately they will, or won't, add up to having been the thing that mattered.
     —Barbara Kingsolver, Animal, Vegetable, Miracle

After reading Animal, Vegetable, Miracle, I feel motivated to do something to further our journey in living green. What, I'm not sure. On one hand, I'm inspired to raise chickens and grow fruits and vegetables, to learn to can and otherwise preserve our surplus, to make everything from scratch, to shop almost exclusively at farmers markets that pop up around the city when warm weather entices everyone to spend more time outdoors. On the other hand, we have constraints. We live in an apartment building in the city with no space for chickens or a garden or a stockpile of preserves. Many farmers markets are open on weekdays, when we're both at the office. And it's New England. Farmer's market season is limited (though CSA options extend beyond it).

Where does that leave me and my aspirations? What I find most compelling about Barbara Kingsolver's book is she acknowledges that conscientious eating in practice looks different for everyone. Instead of mandating what everyone should do, she highlights why the local food movement matters. She discusses the high long-term costs of our current food economy — to our health, to our environment, to our communities — and then explains how the local food movement can stem the tide through small and simple choices.

"Locally grown" is a denomination whose meaning is incorruptible. Sparing the transportation fuel, packaging, and unhealthy additives is a compelling part of the story, but the plot goes well beyond that. Local food is a handshake deal in a community gathering place. It involves farmers with first names, who show up week after week. It means an open door policy on the fields, where neighborhood buyers are welcome to come have a look, and pick their food from the vine. Local is farmers growing trust.
     —Barbara Kingsolver, Animal, Vegetable, Miracle

This resonates so much more now than when I first heard about the local organic food movement. On 60 Minutes Leslie Stahl interviewed a dreamy-eyed foodie in California who seemed to suggest that every family had the money to buy expensive organic food and the time to make everything from scratch, and just did not value the flavor and experience enough to do so. We moved to Boston in the middle of the winter on one entry-level salary, and after cutting out all expenses not directly related to survival, we were left with a $40 budget to feed both of us each week. I wasn't buying $8/pound organic grapes.

In contrast, Kingsolver isn't puttering around in a kitchen the size of my apartment, waxing poetic about how much better an egg tastes when it's poached in a wood fired oven. She works long hard days in her garden, revels in the first shoots of asparagus, serves as a matchmaker for her adolescent flocks of chickens and turkeys, spends late summer days in a hot kitchen canning, and builds meaningful relationships with the growers in her community. By sharing her experiences — the hardships as well as the joys of pursing local food, she inspires me to believe I can do it too, in my own way.



One of Kingsolver's keys to making local organic food economical, and therefore practical, is eating in season, whether you grow food yourself or buy from a grower or grocery store. Tomatoes in the middle of summer surplus are inexpensive. The same tomato in the middle of winter is not, due to the expense of either transporting it long distances or using lots of energy to grow it in a hothouse. Because the book follows their year-long local food experiment chronologically, it lends itself to good tips and recipes to eat seasonally (basil blackberry crumble? twist my arm). And while her family was committed to the project for one full year, she admitted once it was over, they would allow themselves more flexibility. But Italian wine and bananas would be treats, not staples.

So what are our next steps, in a small city apartment and six-month winter without outdoor space or a car? Switching our Boston Organics box to the local option (I acknowledge we may cry uncle to root vegetables by mid-February). Making a more concerted effort to see if/when we can work local farmers markets into our schedules. Finding restaurants and grocery stores that buy or even grow local (like Russos and Wilson Farm). Shifting our perspective to see out-of-area and out-of-season food as treats. Eating less meat, and making sure it's from happy healthy animals when we do. Planning meals around the seasons, instead of picking recipes first. Supporting and celebrating growers who are passionate about their craft. It is these seemingly small changes that will "add up to having been the thing that mattered."

Eat (real) food, not too much, mostly plants.
     —Michael Pollen

Marathon Monday 2013: one year later

It's been one year. Long enough to stop jumping at every siren. Long enough for that week to stop coming up in every conversation. Long enough to feel safe again. But not long enough to walk down Boylston without remembering. Not long enough to keep it together when I hear stories from that week and from survivors. Not long enough to stop reliving every moment when the television networks reflect on the events that transpired. Not long enough to forget how thankful I am for those small moments and decisions that kept us and our friends safe, for the brave people that saved lives, and for the love and support that followed.



That Wednesday, I went downtown to see the memorials sprouting like spring flowers around the crime scene perimeter. Messages covered every surface. Flags and t-shirts draped over the temporary fences. Piles of flowers formed haphazard gardens dotted with stuffed animal ornaments. Next to them, cameras and spotlights trained on empty chairs as news correspondents waited for something to report. Behind the fences and barricades were armed officers in camouflage and protective gear, pacing next to armored vehicles. Blocks away, I could make out tiny figures cloaked in white, slowly going over every inch of Boylston Street, looking for answers.



Thursday evening at work, after earlier inaccurate reports of a suspect in custody, we clustered around the first computer that was able to load the live stream of the FBI press conference, then wondered how long it would be before the two men in the photographs were identified. We did not have to wait long.

At 6:18 a.m. the next morning, Ian and I were jerked awake by a text message that didn't quite make sense. "Don't know if you guys heard the news, but STAY HOME!" Was it from Monday, somehow lost in transit?  What else could warrant such a dire warning? But without knowing, we couldn't go back to sleep. We turned on the TV. It felt like the world was falling apart all over again.



Under lockdown, we stayed on the sofa and watched the reports unfold while checking in with our coworkers who live in Watertown. We heard stories of waking up to the gunfight, and SWAT teams knocking on the door to search the apartment. But they were all safe. We watched as an army of police, arriving in MBTA buses, converged in the mall parking lot just down the street from our office. Every station rolled footage of the slow and methodical search, interrupted only by bursts of police activity, and interviews as officials pieced together the story of the previous night and chased down leads.



That evening when Governor Patrick finally announced the lockdown was over, his directive to "be vigilant" was less than reassuring with a suspect still at large. We made dinner as coverage continued, and wondered how we could possibly feel safe enough to go outside the next day. An hour later, breathless reporters crouched low and spoke to jostling cameras, unsure of what the sudden activity and loud bangs meant, and suddenly a boat was surrounded and it was over.

But it wasn't over. Not for the victims and their families. Not for the suspect and his family. Not for the business owners whose stores were shuttered. Not for the runners who didn't cross the finish line. Not for the medical teams tasked with healing the injured. Not for the city that needed to find a way to move forward.



A week later Boylston was open again, with a message of solidarity. Boston Strong. Over the past year, businesses, bodies, and lives have been put back together. The Sox won the World Series in a triumph that felt like salve to a city on the mend. Scars still show, but they're now reminders, not of the terrible things people do to one another, but of hope and the resilience of the human spirit.

Boston is a city of love stories now.
    —Robert, founder of Dear World

I am still in awe of how our city pulled together, and continues to support each other. A year ago, someone asked if what happened made us want to move back to Kansas. I think it is the opposite. I'm proud to call Boston my home and be a part of this incredible community. Boston Strong.

Last year, I wrote a response to the events of Marathon Monday 2013 (if you're looking for something more lighthearted, check out the posts and photos from past Marathon Mondays: 2013 | 2012 | 2011 | 2010).

Marathon Monday 2013

It's the sort of thing you see in the news, happening somewhere else. Not here. Not on those streets you walk almost every day. Not in front of stores you frequent on a regular basis. Not on one of the city's biggest holidays. Not at the annual event you use to mark how long you've been in the city.

Yesterday I got in to work after very long commute from mile 17, where that morning, alongside old friends, I cheered on a new one. I had just settled in at my desk when suddenly a coworker looked at me with concern, "There was an explosion at the finish line. Are your friends still there?"

A text message soon confirmed they were all safely on their way to the airport. But this was now only a start to the mental list I began to compile of everyone we knew who was running the marathon, watching the marathon, volunteering at the marathon. Calls, texts, social media messages, all after just one bit of information: are you okay? In between were messages from our friends and family, looking for the same answer.

Slowly we heard back. There were close calls. A coworker's wife finished the marathon ten minutes before the explosion, and said coworker was already home after cheering her on at Coolidge Corner. He learned the news only when she called to assure him she was okay. A friend was headed to the finish line and arrived downtown just before the blasts, but someone on the train had convinced her to get off at Arlington instead of Hynes, putting her beyond instead of potentially in the middle of it.

I thought of my own story. If we weren't saving vacation time for our upcoming Paris anniversary trip and DR mission trip, I might have taken the whole day off instead of just the morning. I might have joined our friends near the finish line to cheer on Levi. After they left for the airport, I might have stuck around.

And then there was the commute home last night, the air heavy with rumors of suspicious packages littered around the city. We caught a ride with a friend but closed roads forced us to walk the last stretch, listening to the distant hum of helicopters and wail of ambulances.

So far everyone on our list is safe, but my heart aches for those who had a very different end to Marathon Monday. I am praying for the victims and their families and friends, and trying to figure out what we can do to help.

In the meantime, may we live as agents of your Kingdom—showing and sharing the love of Jesus to a broken and lost world. Running toward the blast, toward the suffering in order to help, instead of away from it—like the first responders did in the incredible video of bomb blast at the finish line.
     —Ed Stetzer

I am also thankful to live in a city filled with incredible people. Those first responders who rushed to the side of the injured. The marathon runners who crossed the finish line then kept going to donate blood at Mass General. The strangers who shared their phones so families and runners could connect and send the message they were safe. The people who opened their homes to those in need of a bed last night. The restaurants and food trucks providing free meals for anyone who needs it. And many more whose stories I have not yet heard.

When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, "Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping." To this day, especially in times of "disaster," I remember my mother's words, and I am always comforted by realizing that there are still so many helpers—so many caring people in this world.
     —Mister Rogers

I am also resting in Psalm 34:18: "If your heart is broken, you’ll find God right there; if you’re kicked in the gut, he’ll help you catch your breath." Amen.

If you are in Boston, [REUNION] Christian Church is holding a prayer gathering at Ruggles Baptist Church (874 Beacon Street near the St. Mary's T stop) tonight at 7 p.m. You are welcome to join us.

a night with the odd souls of MUTEMATH

The same week we saw Viggo Mortensen, we also saw MUTEMATH. Yes, it was a busy week. No, we have no regrets.

We'd already seen them live (twice!) since coming to Boston, but this was the first time they were headlining, with their Odd Soul album no less. Their latest is arguably their best yet: their iconic sound fused with a little extra soul and a lot of open honesty about roots that Ian and I can relate to.

The evening started off with Canon Blue, which didn't captivate me, but was a solid opening act. Then we were on to the main event.

The band marched in from the back to a single snare drum, holding poles that lofted strings of summer lights above the short parade that weaved through the crowd and onto the stage.

Paul Meany started off by saying they would play every song on the Odd Soul album, with plenty of older favorites in the mix as well. Which equaled two and a half hours solid of amazing sound.

The set was stunning. A white pyramid of screens behind them filled with constantly changing projections: clever and artistic graphics that responded to the music, interspersed with live shots of the band playing.

And during several songs, Paul Meany and Darren King each made their way to the middle of the floor via a rolling piece of stage and, in once instance, a double tall air mattress lined with lights that looked rather like a spaceship hovering over the crowd.

I'm still amazed at the humility and joy these guys exude when they're performing. They love what they do, and while I'm sure they want to put on a great show for their fans, they'd be making music with or without us.

And really, isn't that what great art is all about?

See more of our photos here.

Steve Jobs, 1955-2011

screenshot from apple.com

"RIP Steve Jobs. You touched an ugly world of technology and made it beautiful. You changed the world. Things won't be the same without you." —Matt Galligan (@mg)

We saw the news last night around 11pm, and read the New York Times article on our new MacBook Pro. Fitting.

Steve created some of my favorite things: aforementioned MacBook Pro, my previous model (6+ years and still trucking), our future first iPhones (we're getting them in a couple weeks, but I'm already predicting they make the list), and Pixar. It's hard to imagine what the world, our lives, would look like today without his influence on technology and design. Beautiful, simple, forward thinking.

In the words of Toy Story's Little Green Men, "We are eternally grateful."

"When the world spins crazy"

Yesterday was normal. We went to [REUNION], Ian studied for his licensure exams, we went out for ice cream with John and Erin, and had our every-other-weekend Burn Notice double feature double date with Brett and Emily.

Yesterday was different. We remembered, Ian watched old footage online, and we talked about where we were ten years ago when we first heard. Ian was eating cereal and watching TV before school when the coverage began. I was in class and couldn't believe the odds that two planes would accidentally hit the World Trade Center. I got to my next class and my accounting teacher told us, "You have lost your innocence" — I knew then it was no accident.

We were young, and far away in Kansas. I don't think it ever seemed quite real until we saw Ground Zero on our trip to NYC three years ago. And now, in Boston, it is closer than ever. We took time to remember those who were needlessly lost, those who sacrificed everything for others, and those who continue to serve. At [REUNION], we also prayed a prayer written ten years ago in response to 9/11.

“When the world spins crazy,
spins wild and out of control,
spins toward rage and hate and violence,
spins beyond our wisdom and nearly
beyond our faith,
When the world spins to chaos as it does now among us...
We are glad for sobering roots that provide ballast in the storm
So we thank you for our rootage in communities of faith,
for many fathers and mothers
who have believed and trusted
as firm witnesses to us,
for their many stories of wonder, awe and healing.
We are glad this day in this company
for the rootage of scripture,
for its daring testimony,
for its deep commands,
for its exuberant tales.
Because we know that as we probe deep into this text...
clear to its bottom,
we will find you hiding there,
we will find you showing yourself there,
speaking as you do,
governing,
healing,
judging.
And when we meet you hiddenly,
we find the spin not so unnerving,
because from you the world again has a chance
for life and sense and wholeness.
We pray midst the spinning, not yet unnerved,
but waiting and watching and listening,
for you are the truth that contains all our spin. Amen.”
—Walter Brueggemann

Yesterday, today, and always, in this broken world, may this be our prayer.

for Japan

Less than two years ago, I was captivated by this view out of the plane window as we flew into Narita, a layover on the way to the Philippines. While we spent only a handful of hours in the airport, I was amazed by the beauty, technology, and courtesy of the people. Their security was thorough, but thoughtful. They said please and thank you to everyone, and I will never forget one officer gently tucking a little girl's baby doll into the bin before sending it through the scanner.

When I heard about the earthquake, I couldn't imagine that beautiful scene shaken and buried under water and debris. Then I saw the media coverage. We listened to our Japanese coworkers who are still trying to reach friends and family, hearts broken.

Ian and I aren't entirely sure how to respond. Haiti, New Zealand, now Japan. When do we give? Where do we give? What do we do?

We don't have answers for these questions, but I do know we are called to pray for the people who are hurting and the land that is broken. And I'm encouraged by the compassion shown so far.

There are many ways to help, but a few caught my attention.

01. World Vision has served in Japan for over two decades and has an emergency response team on the ground. They are paying particular attention to the needs of the children uniquely hurting from this disaster.

02. Text support — I learned via @WorldVisionUSA, AT&T and Verizon are waving the fee for text donations to various relief organizations. For a list of options, click here.

03. Architecture for Humanity will be offering assistance with reconstruction. Your donation will go towards the "last response" wave to build meaningful and lasting solutions. If you're in the design profession, you can also donate your time and expertise to this cause.

"We are now facing the most tragic disaster in our country's history."

Kenjiro Ban, WV Humanitarian + Emergency Affairs Manager

Copley Square, then and now

The first time I ventured out alone in Boston, I went to the Boston Public Library to get a library card. I accidentally got on the green line going the wrong way, and so by the time I arrived, the library had just closed. I stood on the steps, bundled up in my new winter coat, and took a photo of Copley at night with the Christmas tree twinkling white and blue. I didn't know much about Boston and didn't know anyone aside from Ian and two friends from home, but in that moment I was so content in our new city.

Almost a year later, Boston has become home. The shift was imperceptible, but I knew it had happened when I went to the library after work. I sat in the window overlooking the courtyard as I talked to my parents on the phone.

By the time I left, it was dark. I paused on the steps and looked across Copley, arrested by the old library lanterns in contrast to the glittering Hancock Tower.

That past moment, uncertain but full of hope, suddenly was juxtaposed to the present, fulfilled. I am confident. I know how to get around. I can give directions to tourists and provide recommendations for things like chowder and cannoli. I have a job that I do very well. We have favorite restaurants. We know our neighbors. We love our church. We have friends we can count on. And I have a library card.

the balance of imperfection

As much as I love the blog world, I know it can skew our perceptions. Most bloggers write about their passions and talents. As readers, it's tempting to take all the successful and inspiring attributes of each and combine them into one unattainable ideal. It's the equivalent of an airbrushed model in a magazine: no one is that perfect. (Marta wrote about this in her blogging and jealousy post.)

Knowing this, I still fell victim to "blog envy." I kept incorporating more great ideas into my life, and was successful at first. Then I got a job. My time commitments drastically changed, but my expectations for what I should accomplish did not.

A couple weeks ago I had an emotional breakdown. All my expectations piled up. I got caught up in trying to do everything instead of pursuing my passions. I was uninspired and stretched too thin.

After a couple bear hugs, Ian sat down with me and we reevaluated what can slide and what can't: spending time together, serving at Reunion, investing in relationships, taking care of the environment, being responsible with our finances, and paying off debt.

In tandem with this reorientation is a new emphasis on God's command to rest — we weren't made to always be doing. Thanks to discussions in our community group, we're committing one day each weekend as work-free.

We rested that Saturday. After lunch with our co-community group leaders we headed downtown, found an eclectic button store so we could replace Ian's broken coat button, and wandered around Boston Common and the Public Garden. It was beautiful weather, and I felt so free.

As I rebalance my life, I also want to shatter any perceptions that I'm someone who has it all together.

I don't have the time, desire, or energy to coupon like a maniac. For us, it's worth passing up some deals in order to spend time on other things we care about more. We have a budget, so I've stopped feeling guilty for not getting $100 of groceries for 10 bucks.

I will continue my efforts at meal planning because it's the only way to get dinner on the table before 9 p.m. on work days. But I'm not perfect and we still sometimes end up eating ramen noodles or scrambling to Trader Joe's and making BLTs after most kid's bedtimes.

I accidentally fermented tomato juice in the fridge.

The pile of grit I swept off our floor last weekend looked like a gigantic ant hill.

I still have goals and want to grow as a wife, homemaker, and writer, but I'm learning to balance new pursuits with contentment, and to laugh at the tomato wine in the fridge.

The Bachelor: After the Final Rejection

So you don't watch The Bachelor. That's okay, because these are my thoughts on the concept of love perpetuated by American culture. Actually, I've always thought The Bachelor was a ridiculous show, but it's great for girls' night!

As I watched this season with my wonderful girlfriends, I thought I'd have fun and write a post with a tough-love counseling approach to the most memorable Bachelor rejections. Then the finale aired. For non-watchers, Jason proposed to Melissa, then 6 weeks later dumped her on national television and asked Molly, runner up, to take him back. Keep in mind prior to this fiasco, none of the other bachelorettes thought he was a jerk and he had come across as an all-around good guy.

He's just following his heart.
Jason kept repeating how he tried to focus on his and Melissa's relationship, but "I can't control my head," and "you have to follow your heart." It sounds familiar. Our culture tells us we can't help falling in love (Elvis croons this), and you should follow your heart. The American dream romance is falling in love. We pursue and end relationships based on whether or not we're "in love."

So is Jason really a bad guy for the decisions he made (excluding his decision to break Melissa's heart on national television)? Isn't it considerate he broke up with Melissa as soon as he realized he wasn't "in love" with her? Following his heart sounds romantic, but excuses a broken promise to Melissa, a choice made while "following his heart." What if, later, "following his heart" means leaving or cheating on Molly?

C. S. Lewis writes in Mere Christianity,

the most dangerous thing you can do is to take any one impulse of our own nature and set it up as the thing you ought to follow at all costs. Being in love is a good thing, but it is not the best thing.

Jason chose to follow his heart above all else, leaving broken hearts and broken relationships in that pursuit. Being in love, while a good thing, isn't the be all and end all, so "you cannot make it the basis of a whole life."

I will always love you?
What the phrase "in love" means to our culture is falling and being in love, which naturally leads to commitments and promises — think Whitney Houston and "I will always love you," or Jason originally proposing to Melissa. Yet, Lewis points out, "being in love" is a feeling and if one promises to always "be in love," then "he might as well promise to never have a headache or always to feel hungry." Feelings don't last. Can we commit to a relationship because of something so inconstant as an emotion? Yet those emotions drive us to these promises.

What is love?
While "falling in love" inspires us to make big commitments, in American culture there is not point in remaining together after "falling OUT of love," except maybe "for the kids' sake." So what about that commitment? Melissa called Jason out on this: you chose Melissa, but you won't fight for Melissa. Lewis writes,

The promise, made when I am in love and because I am in love, to be true to the beloved as long as I live, commits one to being true even if I cease to be in love.

Are we doomed to choose between broken promises and loveless marriages? Not according to Lewis.

ceasing to be "in love" need not mean ceasing to love. Love in this second sense — love as distinct from "being in love" is not merely a feeling. It is a deep unity maintained by the will and deliberately strengthened by habit; reinforced by (in Christian marriages) the grace which both parents ask, and receive, from God. They can have this love for each other even at those moments when they do not like each other; as you love yourself even when you do not like yourself. They can retain this love even when each would easily, if they allowed themselves, be "in love" with someone else. "Being in love" first moved them to promise fidelity: this quieter love enables them to keep the promise. It is on this love that the engine of marriage is run: being in love was the explosion that started it.

We keep the promise, even when we aren't "feeling it" because we experience love in an infinitely deeper and richer sense. It's worth it. You move beyond the feeling and have new and exhilarating experiences with your beloved. The point of falling in love is to not always feel in love, but to move beyond it, just as the point of feeling hungry is to move us beyond it to nourishment.

I can't help falling in love with you.
But Jason fell in love with Molly. Staying with Melissa isn't fair to her if his heart is with Molly, right? True, but that's assuming he couldn't help but fall in love with Molly. Lewis also addresses this issue.

Another notion we get from novels and plays is that "falling in love" is something quite irresistible; something that just happens to one, like measles. And because they believe this, some married people throw up the sponge and give in when they find themselves attracted by a new acquaintance. ... When we meet someone beautiful and clever and sympathetic, of course we ought, in one sense, to admire and love these good qualities. But is it not very largely in our own choice whether this love shall, or shall not, turn into what we call "being in love?"

We allow ourselves to "fall in love" because our culture has trained our minds to do so, not because we have no choice. It was Jason's fault he fell in love with Molly because he let himself constantly think about her and indulged in his emotions toward her (of course the experience of the show encouraged this).

But who cares what C.S. Lewis wrote?
I realize I'm using arguments from a Christian book. However, I think most people long for a forever relationship. Molly, I'm sure, expects Jason to be true to her. Melissa was upset because, instead of fighting for their relationship, he broke his promise to be true to her. She wanted that ring to mean forever. Deanna, from the previous season, came back and her advice to Jason was "LEAD your heart." We long for love, but we don't know what love is.

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. —1 Corinthians 13:4-7

Love is selfless and beautiful. I'm reminded again God's standards aren't to limit us, but to bring us fulfillment. I'm so thankful Ian and I have true love (even though we're imperfect), and I hope we can continue to share that with others.

A dose of CNN

I wrote this in June, and sat on it. But I reread it today while I was waiting for the bulletins to finish printing and thought I'd still post it. Two reasons: I feel smart because I called the recession, and I feel it is still relevant in terms of our current economy woes and the upcoming election.

While my family visited, I got a dose of The Road to the Presidency 2008 via CNN. One evening, there were four almost consecutive pieces that caught my attention.

1. A discussion of Obama and McCain's positions on rising gas prices and their solutions.
2. A legal firm that helps foreign workers obtain visas was audited for being too involved in their clients' hiring process, hurting middle-class Americans' job opportunities.
3. The rising cost of everything, from food to mortgages.
4. The controversy over Dr. Dobson criticizing Obama for his Biblical interpretations, versus Obama saying faith and morals should impact public policy.

These all connected in my mind. Hopefully my big ideas and revelations will make sense. And if I offend with my soapbox stands, I am unapologetic. Offenses are unintended, but I don't think my criticisms are undeserved. And keep in mind I am making generalizations — I'm analyzing our overall culture and realize there are exceptions, sometimes large ones, to the statements I make.

Our society has unrealistic and contradicting expectations and we refuse to take responsibility. We expect our government to fix things for us and make our lives better. The McCain camp and Obama camp spoke loudly over each other about how their candidate will fix things, and his opponent can't. But I don't see a big movement towards encouraging us to change our lifestyles to help with the problem. In fact, lifestyle changes due to lack of options (not driving because we literally can't afford the gas), are treated as an inconvenience, not a long-term solution. We just focus on how the government should fix the problem for us.

This thought continues into the story about American companies hiring foreign workers. The people interviewed said they want companies to do the "right" thing, not just the "legal" thing, inferring the companies hiring cheaper foreign labor have a moral obligation to hire US workers. However, our economy is all about making money. Companies have to pay higher wages to Americans, which would translate into smaller profits. Wouldn't that hurt our economy and drive prices up even more? So while you would have a job, it would cost you in other ways. Yes, I understand the frustration. But when it pays to (legally) hire foreign workers and we condition them to chase increased profits, can we blame them?

Moreover, companies propagate the condition by constantly tell us to spend our money so they can increase their profits. Promos for everything you "need" are everywhere, like a new giant flat screen HDTV or designer clothes. Spend, don't save. Who cares if it is on a high-interest credit card. People outrun their coverage, and get stuck when they have to start paying. Now, when situations drive up the cost of necessities like food, people are crunching to cover the bills.

I know that this isn't the case for everyone. But think about it. You pick your priorities. Do you spend money on more than basic food, protection from the elements, the cheapest way to work, basic clothing needs? I include myself in this. I don't mean spending money for enjoyment is wrong. We just need to be responsible and save for a rainy day so when things happen out of our control, we don't lose everything. Work for what you get, and spend only what you have.

I don't mean to say people's problems are small. I refuse to say if you are struggling right now, too bad, you are responsible, get over it. I empathize; and I think it shows our culture needs to reevaluate. Even the government assumes we will spend all the money we get — we received the economic stimulus payment to increase sales to help the economy. Our economy needs to constantly be growing. While I am not an economist, it seems inevitable it will eventually see a recession.

With the news constantly rehashing our woes and unintentionally highlighting the seeming futility of politics, you think I would feel depressed. But I don't. It reminds me while men fail, God doesn't. We can rely on him. I appreciate Obama saying faith does have a place in government: political positions based on religious beliefs shouldn't have to be checked at the door. That doesn't mean I'll blindly vote for him. I need to weigh his faith and positions against the truth I know. But I hope this gets people talking and thinking. I look at our problems and I know God has answers.

I think of what C.S. Lewis wrote about how we get polarized: Democrats and Republicans, for example, and not exclusively right or wrong. We focus too much on one area, and we lose other vital things. A real, wholly biblical community would scare the pants off everyone because it would be so radical — not in a violent political sense, but in a way that contradicts our society and is unlike anything we generally see today. Love, selflessness, giving up our wants for others' needs, responsibility, much more than I can summarize here. C.S. Lewis sounds much more intelligent than that, but I think that's the general idea. Read Mere Christianity for the whole picture. These ideas also connect with a few quotes from Velvet Elvis I thought would conclude this nicely, in regards to God's call for us in our society.

Ultimately our gift to the world around us is hope. Not blind hope that pretends everything is fine and refuses to acknowledge how things are. But the kind of hope that comes from staring pain and suffering right in the eyes and refusing to believe that this is all there is. ... It is in the flow of real life, in the places we live and move with the people we're on the journey with, that we are reminded it is God's world and we're going to be okay.

It is our turn to rediscover the beautiful, dangerous, compelling idea that a group of people, surrendered to God and to each other, really can change the world.

a tornado in the Little Apple

My mom called me this morning to update me that the jeweler back home could indeed tighten the loose prong(s) on my engagement ring, so I can wear it again as soon as Ian or my family brings it back (this weekend or the next, pending on how long it takes the jeweler). She also mentioned my grandma called this morning and said last night a tornado went through the area of Chapman and Manhattan. My family hadn't heard much because it wasn't in their news coverage area, but mom didn't make it sound too bad — just some damage to a couple buildings on campus, I assumed more due to high winds, not that it had touched down in town.

I went to the computer to start working on the bulletin, and, out of habit, checked my e-mail. I had several messages in my inbox relating to the tornado: photos, "I'm fine, it didn't hit us" updates, and news articles. I checked some blogs, as well, and saw even more photos. Both Vanessa and Sarah O. (in my blog list on the right) have photos/links to photos: you should take a look. I read it was two to four blocks wide, and millions of dollars of damage. Thankfully, there haven't been any reports of deaths (as far as I've seen). It seems like we (meaning the Little Apple area) have been hit hard these past 6 months or so. In December it was the ice storm that knocked out power for days and caused campus to close, during finals week no less. And speaking from experience, K-State doesn't cancel classes often at all (1.5 days, 5 years ago during my freshman year, for a large amount of snow was the last time previous to the ice storm). And now in June it's a tornado which devastates the area and campus.

photo from The Manhattan Mercury

I've always empathized with updates of devastation, but this is a completely different experience. I feel like I missed something, that I should have heard about it as it was happening — how did we miss hearing about it? It feels like we should have heard it on the news, or heard the sirens, or something. Because there is home; we're just temporarily not there. These are neighborhoods I walked through. These are places I drove past on a regular basis. These are people I love. It feels more surreal, and at the same time, more real than other disasters I see in the news. And while we can't help with cleanup, I want to say you are in our thoughts and prayers, and we are so thankful you are safe. Keep us posted, and let us know if there is anything we can do, and any more specific prayer requests. That's one thing that our distance doesn't affect!

Also, to pass along information, I just got an e-mail from the K-State Foundation, which has established the K-State Tornado Relief Fund. Visit the site if you're interested in donating. They also have lots of photos of the damage on campus, campus news updates, and a YouTube link for the news report I have at the beginning of the post.

Life is so fast

It's getting close to a month since I last blogged. And not for lack of thought, but lack of time. It's funny how life comes at you so fast. I thought, oh, graduation, no homework, I'll have more free time, because I can leave my work at work. But things expand to fill your time, and unless you're intentional, you're never less busy. You just need to make sure what you're occupying your time with is worthwhile. Following God, investing in people, appreciating the world. I feel like these past few weeks have been a loss of that intentionality. I've let myself become overwhelmed with wedding preparations, moving plans, instead of enjoying all of it, and the last moments I have with everyone here before we leave, and the joy of preparing for Ian and I's new life together.

I could tell you all the updates... we bought wedding rings, the bachelorette party was so much fun (thanks to my amazing bridesmaids, and also to everyone who came! You girls all mean so much to me, and I am so thankful you are in my life — no matter how busy life is, no matter how long it's been since we've seen each other, I know I can count on you when I need it. There are not words to thank you enough for that, I love you all!), we ordered napkins just in time, as plum is being discontinued, so not only did we get the right color, we got them on sale, we're plugging away at all the little details. And not that it is all meaningless, because it's not — all of it enables us to enjoy celebrating our wedding with everyone we care about. But I want to make sure I'm taking time to appreciate family, friends, the time I get to enjoy with everyone, and most especially Ian. With the overwhelmingness of everything, it's very easy to snap at each other, and forget the big picture, and how lucky I am. And, even bigger than that, to continue my walk with God. It's very easy, especially when we are busy, to push it to the back burner. To worry about the urgent details, and forget about what is important. I can feel the difference when I make that ever so slight shift. It's not so much a matter of a radical shift in the way I spend my day, but the attitude of my heart. I understand more and more that book title, "Too Busy Not To Pray."

Life is good, but we've only got one to enjoy and make a difference with. Don't forget that, no matter what you're doing or where you're at in life. Chase after God, make time for people, and the rest will fall into place.

I think I need help

First, I posted a couple pics from that photography contest on my other blog. Second, I'm going to work at UCYC in Arizona this summer! I'm excited!

On to school. Today was my first British Survey 2 test, oh, excuse me, "quiz 1" and I honestly can say I haven't felt bad about a test like that since Drama way back when, but I was already at the point of not caring on that Friday final. And thinking that I still have over half the semester, I think maybe 16 hours is pushing it. I'm so ready to just be done. And I realized, I get this way about everything. I enjoy it at first, then I do well, and then I think that I have to at least maintain this high standard I set for myself, and then I just push myself so I can make it out safely with that perfect/good record. Middle school track, high school forensics, now my college GPA... And its not my family, I mean, my brothers aren't insane perfectionists, even though my parents push us to do our best. I don't know what's wrong with me. I'm pretty sure I'm obsessive compulsive... you just have to see my need for organization and you'd understand. I don't know what to do with myself, because I'm not happy if I don't do all of this... it drives me insane until I give in and do my homework, or spend my whole day studying, or whatnot, but I don't know if I'm really honestly happy doing it, either. Like, that sick feeling in my stomach senior year before performing at state, because I thought, "Anna, if you don't break finals again, you've gone downhill, and that's not acceptable" as opposed to junior year and being in a state of euphoria that I made it and, aside from general nervousness, enjoying the moment. So I'm starting to get that same sick feeling of senior year with big school projects. I think it would do me good, maybe, to fall short of my expectations sometime, but my perfectionism and competitiveness won't let me do that on purpose, and I think I'd totally fall apart if that did happen. I don't know why I put so much pressure like this on myself. I'm just so tired, of everything. That sounds depressing, and I'm not, its not like I'm not happy overall, because I am. I'm not upset right now, I just feel it would be beneficial to somehow fix this about me, (especially before I have kids and become a psycho mom like, well, I'll be nice, but no, it's not my mom, b/c she's amazing!), I just don't know how. Anyway, I don't know if writing helped at all, but its done, and I don't want to delete the last 10 minutes of my life, so you get to read it anyway!

Have a great day, and don't forget to celebrate, oh, well, National Pig Day today (March 1st)... but if you forget, I totally understand. :)

Experiences at Hale

Two stories.

1. I was in the library after class the other day, passing time between British Survey and my enrollment advising meeting, and I chanced upon an empty sofa. A rare occurrence at Hale, as they're pretty amazing sofas and everyone knows this. So, I decided to enjoy the treat of an afternoon sofa nap. I was exhausted, I decided it would be beneficial to my well being if I crashed until my meeting. Brit says she's always worried she'll snore or something, but I didn't really care. If I snore, someone can wake me up. At any rate, the sofa that opened up was right behind this group of four female Chinese (I think) international students. If you don't know the arrangement at Hale, there are about 8-10 sofas on the first floor, arranged so they are alternately back to back and facing each other, making several areas where groups can get together and sit on two sofas and talk/study. So I'm lying on the sofa, eyes closed, and I can hear the girls talking. I had seen them when I sat down, so I know they were working on what appeared to be homework. I caught wisps of English in that familiar accent, when a few stood out to me: "vagina" and "condoms." Needless to say, not what I expected. I finally figured out that it was some lesson on birth control. Still my weirdest Hale experience to date. I did get a nice nap though!

2. Yesterday, I was chilling in the library again, doing a little devo. Natalie Lloyd writes one in Brio every month, and they're amazing. Anyway, it was about being quiet before God. We always get caught up in how busy our lives are, which isn't necessarily a bad thing. Especially this past week, my busyness has forced me to totally rely on God for strength and the ability to get things done and done well, and He is there, always. It's an amazing thing to see Him work like that, and feel Him as a total support. But it's also important to take time for Him without the busyness. Natalie used Psalm 46:10, "be still and know that I am God." We know God, and see God, when we are still. We experience Him through that, and he gives us peace. Which totally fit with a verse I ended up reading (because God is amazing like that), Phil 4:7 "And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus." When we take time out for Him, he gives us peace, which gives us strength and protection to live our lives for Him. And he rewards that. Yesterday was amazing, because He filled me with such joy! I can't remember the last time I have felt such deep and overwhelming joy... not happiness, but joy that overflows and you want to share with everyone! So, take time today, to just be quiet before God, to listen and appreciate who He is, and watch Him work in amazing ways in your life!

How do you feel about Wednesday?

The other day, I was cleaning out my room for the umpteenth time. I'm such a pack rat. *sigh* At any rate, I was tossing out a ton of stuff I had gotten throughout high school from various colleges. Why did I have all that mail lying around anyway... I think it was something about wanting to see if I could top my dad's supposedly large collection, and wondering what colleges thought I was significant. Rather an ego boost, especially now when I've gone from a stand out high schooler to student number 12,308... its always nice to know that there were those fancy, exclusive colleges that sent me letters about how they believed I would fit right in with their outstanding student body and had a good shot at their impressive scholarships if I should decide to apply... I never felt the need to correct them on this point, their misguided faith was rather endearing...

My family recycles. This does fit in, really, I promise. My mom wanted me to sort through this massive collection in order to recycle it, instead of just tossing it in the trash. (Perhaps this will help debunk the myth that conservative Christians aren't out to destroy the environment, huh Micah? :D But that's off topic...) As I opened envelopes, tossing leaflets and prospectus (is that prospecti in plural, or prospectuses?) into the appropriate recycling piles, I came across one that intrigued me. It was from Macalester College in Minnesota. I remembered being interested in them when I first got their little booklet and such, since they marketed themselves as distinctly NOT Ivy League, represented by an illustration similar to:

(a bit nicer looking than that, obviously) and below the claim that Macalester College is "an excellent place to get an Ivy-caliber education." I casually glanced at their application, thinking to myself, could I really have gotten into a private school, where they actually make you fill something out that requires time, effort, and dare I say, actual talent? I've sometimes thought to myself, that perhaps high school was my pinnacle, and I'm declining into the twilight period of my life, or at least my academic career. Well, sometimes is perhaps inferring something more frequent than actually has occurred, perhaps it was only twice.

Irregardless of the previous frequency of these thoughts, the fact of the matter was that they returned, and with a vengance. I began to more closly examine the applications from the various schools, in an attempt to ascertain whether or not I am currently capable of putting together something at least semi-marketable. I soon ran across "the uncommon application" from the University of Chicago, and looked through the essay options for the infamous 1-2 page essay. One caught my eye, being so simple and open, yet intriguing. "How do you feel about Wednesday?" (they credited it as "inspired by Maximilian Pascual Ortega, a graduate of Maine Township High School South," which is, funnily enough, in Illinois) This question has been one I've begun to contemplate, but, as of yet, have not determined any solid answers. I think, in a future post... and I mean "future post" in the most vague sense possible, I shall attempt to answer this question. However, in the mean time, I shall leave it as a question to you, dear reader, if you really do exist. Feel free to leave an answer and satiate my curiosity!