Life in the moment

The past few days I haven't had enough time in the morning to blog, but today a few minutes have appeared. One of the threads through my morning meditations has been life and what we do with it. I think as children, we spend our existence impatiently waiting for something. We wait for kindergarten, and then we quickly look forward to summer vacation. We can't wait to be a teen and then to drive and the graduate and then to college. And then? We longing look back at our childhood wishing to do it over again because now life is so busy we can't enjoy it anymore.

Perhaps, the best way to live life is somewhere in between; somewhere where we are accomplishing things but realize the moment for what it is -- a gift from God. I am starting to see that God is waiting for us in those moments where life isn't getting in the way. Those five minutes after class and before the next one begins, God is there waiting for me. If only I could appreciate that time with him in communion with others! Think about how much of our lives are spent waiting for something, pining for a person or an activity. All thought is about how wonderful it is going to be. Just like the child pining for his driver's license, he misses all the joys of childhood looking forward to becoming a teen. That's the regret we feel later in our adult lives. We wasted so much of our childhood waiting to grow up. Is that the way we want to look back over our lives? Do I want to reach my "Golden Years" and wish I hadn't wasted so much time waiting for things to happen? Besides, life is so fragile, that tomorrow or even ten minutes from now, my life could be over.

So, since I'm in the adding discipline to my life mode, I think that I will try to use every single minute of my day doing something. I'm not going to look back and think that the majority of my life was sitting in the theater watching stupid commercials waiting for the movie to start.

Joy and Sorrow

Nouwen went all Zen this morning, and I'm struggling with putting it together with Paul's hopefulness in Romans 8. The problem is that Nouwen is right in the thick of life, of his humanity. He speaks to our sorrow as connected to our joys; one can not have one without the other. I think what he really was getting at was that sorrow is a part of life, and we can not live in a way that tries to avoid it because we then also avoid joy. It is about living passionately even though it opens us up to sadness. You can't care deeply about something without feeling its loss. By the same token, in our deepest sorrow, joy seems to find a way of bringing us back.

In contrast to Nouwen's reality, Paul's head was pointed to Heaven. He talked about the hope Christians have in Jesus to plead our case and lead us to an eternity with God. I suppose that in some ways he, too, was talking about the connection between joy and sorrow. In our deepest sorrows Christ's hope is there to bring us back. For Paul, life is full of suffering, but our faith in Christ gives us joy in redemption and reconciliation with God.

It's funny how you can read these two diverse texts, and feel they were written just for you. I think that one of the areas in which I need to grow both as a human and as a Christian is my ability to live honestly and passionately. Ever since high school, I have held back. I did this for many reasons, but the main one is that I didn't like to feel as if I was wrong or if I cared about losing something. Being the object of ridicule and abuse in middle school taught me that the one defense against stronger people was to pretend you just didn't care. Eventually they got bored and mostly left you alone. By the time I got through high school, I had added the idea that passion made one look really stupid, especially when the person you were passionate about wasn't really that into you. It took me a long time to get passed that, especially in my personal relationships. It's still true, though, in many aspects of my life. It's easier to be nonchalant and uninspired than to take the chance on being wrong or disappointed in something. I need to grow here, especially in my spiritual life because Jesus and God expect you to give yourself to them, to give your heart to them. That requires passion and suffering and joy.

Opportunites and Surprises

My discipline of morning devotionals came to a screeching halt after only two days; Christmas break, travel, and other things got in the way. That is not an excuse as much as it is a confession of guilt, for my decision to make this time was to overcome such problems. Do I quit then, give it up as a lost cause? Of course not. When you have these moments of failure, which you will always have in any endeavor, the spirit must rise up and continue to fight against all the obstacles to success.

In that light, I made time this morning for my four rituals: The Bible, Bread For the Journey by Henri Nouwen, blogging my thoughts, and The Intellectual Devotional, which I haven't read yet. The English teacher in me tries to make connections between texts, and this morning was no different. The Scripture was from Romans, and Paul was off on some idea that I don't totally agree with. He, as far as I can figure out, was saying that the Law was the cause of his sin because it made him aware of sin. Then went on to say that inside, he exulted the Law, but his actions that he did not want to do but did were from sin. It got really circular in logic, but the point that I took from it was this -- we are bombarded by sin to do things that we know are not right and this fact makes us sinners and our own salvation is through faith in Christ.

Now, Nouwen's brief devotional passage was simply that every single day is full of surprises, good and bad, yet we will miss them if we are not open to the opportunities. I really liked this idea because it speaks to being an open person. Everyone knows the story of the man who receives a message from Jesus saying he would visit him the following day. So, the man readied the house and awoke with great anticipation of Jesus' visit. Early in the morning, a knock came at the door, but it wasn't Jesus. It was a child begging for food. The man quickly gathered some food for the child and hurried him off lest he should miss Jesus. The man waited longer and soon another knock came to the door, but it wasn't Jesus; it was a man who needed clothing. The man gathered some clothes, gave it to the beggar, and sent him off. Again, he awaited Jesus. Later in the afternoon another knock came at the door. "Surely, this must be Jesus," thought the man as rushed to the door. This time it was neighbor who needed help. The man, hoping he would not miss Jesus, rushed to his neighbor's house and helped the man in need. The rest of the day passed, and the man never saw Jesus. During his prayers that night, he asked Jesus why he said he would come and then did not. He heard his answer. "I did come, three times today." The man was puzzled. "But Lord," he responded, "I was home all day and only a hungry child, an unclothed man, and a needy neighbor came. I did not see you once." To this, Jesus responded, "Ah, my son, in those three I was there."

Well, this story, combined with Nouwen's paragraph, and with Paul's conundrum of sin comes this -- Every single day there will be opportunities to sin and opportunities to do good. It is waiting with an open mind to seize those chances that makes the day exciting.

Meditation #1: Flying Helicopters

Last night at our weekly Bible study, I committed, along with everyone else, to spend more time with God. So, I dutifully got up half an hour earlier than normal, made a cup of tea, and felt foolish. Here I was, a Christian all my life (at least in name) and not knowing what to do. My English major sense kicked in, and I went to the library and scanning for a book that would guide me. None helped. Then I noticed that my study Bible was sitting there. Suddenly a thought jumped into my head, "Hey, doofus, maybe this is the better book to start with." Duh. Yet, there was a timidity in starting there. Most of my scant "on-my-own" reading of the Bible has been in the Gospels. That is not for any other reason than it is easy. Jesus and I are okay. Jesus has never said anything that I could dispute. Nothing. I can't say the same for everything else in the New Testament. Urged on by my conviction to follow through with this, I turned past the Gospels and Acts and began my foray into Romans. Now, I'm not one to say that every coincidence is God's hand at work, I'm not sure that he is pushing my every move, but this morning offered one of those moments that make you question whether it was God's work or just dumb luck.

I just read Paul's introduction and his bit about sin. Here's where it got interesting. Right off the bat he talked about sin, and how God and Jesus would deal with the good and how they would deal with sinners and violators of the law...Jews first, then Gentiles. I struggled with the list of sinners because I was named several times, but what caused me duress was because it condemns those who have unnatural relations, a seemingly direct reference to homosexuality. Here's my dilemma. The gay people that I know, some more intimately than others, have all been very good people. One lesbian couple are the most faithful people I know. In fact, I have to admit that my growth in faith over the past ten years is due partly to them. Another couple I know, though not religious, have shown a love for each other in the midst of a battle with manic-depression that would have created a gulf between most straight couples I know.

So, what do I do with that. Well, I don't know. On one hand the Bible seems to say that they are perverts and condemned. On the other hand, with all my being I feel God's presence in these people. I prayed for help with that, and while I was praying I drifted off to another thought. Maybe it was because I didn't want to deal with the homosexuality thing or maybe because I felt this thought even stronger. The thought of all-or-nothing. I think that if most of us had the chance, we would much rather have a faith of choice. What do I mean by that? I mean the choice to pick and choose which of God's commandments to follow. I'm not sure if this is sacrilegious or not, but the Onion came to mind. There's an article written by a guy who wants to fly a helicopter, but not be bothered with learning what all the gauges mean. Read it here. Funny, huh? Well, it reminded me this morning of our relationship with God and with Jesus. We want to bathe in God's grace. We want salvation. We want God's love. But do we really have to do everything else? We don't want to learn or deal with all the gauges. God is our instructor. He's shouting about all the barns in the way, about the way to his grace and salvation. He's given us directions on how to go through life, but we keep replying that he's blocking our view, he's getting in the way of this beautiful creation we are experiencing. We ask him not to ruin our good time with a bunch of boring rules.

After half-an-hour, I came out here and thought about writing a blog. Now, I look and see that I'm forty-five minutes late getting ready for work. Ooops. Here's a reversal. This morning I had to find time for work because God got in the way. Maybe that's how it should be?

Some post-workout thoughts

Mileage: 2.26 in 19:54 -- first cross-training workout (outdoor circuit training)

I've just gotten back from my morning workout, and I have to say that I'm digging it. Since school has gotten out, I've been able to do some early morning runs that start after the sun rises!

I realized the other day that it has been quite awhile since I last logged a blog, so I figured this morning that I would amend that. Unfortunately, what to write about. So much has happened since my last blog that I'm not sure where to begin.

• Olesya is home with us and is now so accustomed to life in America that I believe she has forgotten Russian already. She and Nate are like true siblings; they fight and they love with the best of them. It has only been a few months, but it is hard to think of a time without her.
• Sandra has decided to take a one-year (or more) leave of absence to stay at home with Olesya. Sandra felt that urge once it dawned on her that this is our last child, barring some improbable pregnancy, and if she wanted to stay at home then it had to be now.
• I have applied to be a reading specialist in Harford County, but it looks like the timing will not work out. They will most likely have two openings this summer, but they don't seem to be official yet. Under Maryland rules, I can only leave for another MD county if I am hired (and I resign) before July 15th.
• My father-in-law if battling cancer with everything he's got. We have been blessed already as his early diagnosis was 12-18 months to live, and that was almost two years ago. I worry about him and about my mother-in-law, and I pray that God gives them both the strength to face this.
• I took another step towards mid-life crisis as I got my first tattoo for my birthday (something I've been wanting for about 18 years).

The tattoo is an interesting thing, as it has forced me to explain things that I did not realize I would have to explain. I had the word "timshol" in Hebrew under the Christian fish put on my right shoulder. For me, this was a very personal and important statement to make. The word timshol comes from Genesis 4:7, the story of Cain and Abel. God is talking to Cain about why he is angry and says that if you do good, you will be blessed, but be careful because sin is lurking everywhere but you TIMSHOL conquer it. Timshol can be tranlated several ways, must-will-may, but I like may. For me, it encapsulates free will that God has given us. We are allowed to choose between sin and righteousness, between following God or not. As my faith has grown over the past decade, I realize more and more that I have chosen to follow Christ, but that I could choose not to as well. That distinction is important to me, and so I had that word put under the fish.

Now, what I did not foresee was how hard it would be to talk about the tat to people. There are two difficulties I have encountered. First, it is not easy to come up with a short and simple explanation of the word TIMSHOL. I've found that I almost have to sermonize, which I doubt people expected when they asked what the word means. Secondly, I am forced to acknowledge Christ and that I am a Christian. I know that sounds ridiculous, but I've always been willing to talk about faith with friends, but now I'm discussing it with everyone. I realize that is a good thing, but I have to get used to it. As someone who has kept his faith on the down-low, I feel this unintended consequence of a choice I made as a positive -- but really, really, scary -- step in my growing faith.

Parenthood

When we are small, we imagine our adult life and dream of owning cars and houses and more toys than we can play with. As we enter our teen years, those dreams seem to be just out of reach. We pretend we are adults, just like when we were kids, but now there is an air of legitimacy. We are almost there. College even further strengthens the dream of how awesome it is going to be when we get that piece of paper and then get paid.

Finally, we are there, but the dream isn't exactly as we imagined it would be. Suddenly, the job and the family and the money and the car and the house are there, but when did we become responsible? Sure, we can blow all our money, and money that isn't even ours yet, and we could take cruises and vacations to exotic places. But we don't. We plan and hope for our future. Our retirement. Our kids.

Kids. What a complex relationship kids turn out to be. These little creatures that question you incessantly, scream and cry at the least provocation, and make more noise than is logically possible from such little bodies, become your life. The craziest thing is that you are happy about that!

Our adoption of our second child, Olesya, is finally over. I'm not sure I could even list all of the stumbling and bumbling that has occurred with this adoption -- enough to make one believe that we should have stopped at some point and saved some money. Yet, I'm as optimistic and hopeful as when we started this whole thing, despite all of the set backs and frustrations. Of course, that might be because she is now home with us; although, there is something in the back of my head hinting that there is something more to that feeling. Maybe it is the hope for the future; the hope that this little girl will bring some joy into the world that was not there before her. I know other parents dream of great feats for their children, and constantly prepare them to do exceptional things. For me, if my kids turn out to be good people, then I'll be satisfied. Maybe that is not appropriate for a twenty-first century dad. Perhaps I'm foreclosing on my kids future by not pushing them to be part of the next generation of Harvard
or Yale freshmen. Perhaps. But at the end of the day, to have somebody look you in the eye and say, "You're good people," is the truest measure of a person's value. It's not their job. It's not their bank account. It's who they are, and I want my kids to be good people.

On our first visit with Olesya

It's 7:18 on Tuesday, and I just finished a three-mile easy run. In a few hours we will be heading off to Moscow enroute to meeting our daughter, Olesya. I think the pictures did me in this time. When we adopted Nate, there was no picture, just a medical and a name. Because there was no picture, this phantasmal name was just that, a name. It was impossible for me to make any connection to this child other than blind hope. You might think this a bad thing, but in one anxiety-laden way, it's not. When you adopt from abroad, the medicals are scary, and you must go into the adoption with some cautiousness. The child could be really sick and end up not being adopted because they are too unwell. Also, there is always the possibility until that court date that a family member will come forward and adopt the child. So, when we went to meet Nate, I walked into that room prepared to be objective about our decision to adopt him. Of course, the second he walked into the room, it was over and he was my son. With Olesya, that moment has already happened. When I saw those pictures, it was over. So, I leave today to make my way to her, and I have an underlying anxiety about her health and her care and her happiness. I can't get over how nervous I am about this trip, and I shouldn't be. This is my third time in Moscow, my second adoption, and yet, I'm more worried about this adoption than I was with Nate.

Well, next time I write, I will have met Olesya and everything will have turned out fine. If I somehow get access to a computer in Russia with an English font, I might try to post again. Off to Mother Russia!