Directionally Correct

Directionally Correct is corporate-speak for something that's totally NOT right, but headed in the right direction. -- Huh.

пятница, сентября 30, 2005

Friday Poetry - 20th

Ezekiel 11 and 36

What does it feel like to have
A heart
Of stone replaced
With a heart
of Flesh?

Ripping, tearing?
Crushing, grinding?
Deadness pulled out.
What next?
Hollow cavity.

A strange warmth.
Beating.
Blood coursing through dry veins
Filling the body.
A new sound pounding in the temple.

A living heart.
Fresh, untouched,
Except by the
Hand that put it there.

воскресенье, сентября 25, 2005

Sunday Early Service

Sitting in church this morning:
Very cynical, a frequent feeling in my chosen church.
Feeling controlled by the [wonderful, godly] man at the front who likes to makes people stand up or sit down on cue. Hating his emotive solo that, I presume, should inspire awe in me. It really inspires cringing. Excellent music however, programmed and manipulative.
Feeling ridiculous, noticing that we all stand up and then preen: straighten suits, unrumple shirts or swish-out our skirts. Its important, surely, to be presentable for God when we sing to Him. Or, maybe its just that we’re all aware that the fashion police do attend our services, and surely “those watching on TV” are really watching local programming at 8:30 am to spot the fashion faux pas.

So, there I am, trying to talk myself off the ledge.
Balancing on the very thin line between cynically analyzing every facet of the service, and, well…not. I assume the opposite of cynicism would be openness. An attitude of reception that would listen for what God was saying. But, it was too early. I can’t really say that I was struggling between cynicism and listening for God. The farthest I could get was cynicism and Not.

Then, we stood on cue, we preened our little selves up to our Sunday best, and we sang the song that had been selected weeks ago and was available at number 14 in the hymnal.

Praise to the Lord, the Almighty, the King of creation!
O my soul, praise Him, for He is thy health and salvation!
All ye who hear, now to His temple draw near;
Praise Him in glad adoration.

Praise to the Lord, Who over all things so wondrously reigneth,
Shelters thee under His wings, yea, so gently sustaineth!
Hast thou not seen how thy desires ever have been
Granted in what He ordaineth?


Praise to the Lord, Who hath fearfully, wondrously, made thee;
Health hath vouchsafed and, when heedlessly falling, hath stayed thee.
What need or grief ever hath failed of relief?
Wings of His mercy did shade thee.

Praise to the Lord, Who doth prosper thy work and defend thee;
Surely His goodness and mercy here daily attend thee.
Ponder anew what the Almighty can do,
If with His love He befriend thee.


Praise to the Lord, Who, when tempests their warfare are waging,
Who, when the elements madly around thee are raging,
Biddeth them cease, turneth their fury to peace,
Whirlwinds and waters assuaging.

Praise to the Lord, Who, when darkness of sin is abounding,
Who, when the godless do triumph, all virtue confounding,
Sheddeth His light, chaseth the horrors of night,
Saints with His mercy surrounding.

Praise to the Lord, O let all that is in me adore Him!
All that hath life and breath, come now with praises before Him.
Let the Amen sound from His people again,
Gladly for aye we adore Him.

I found this online. In the hymnal, there were only the 4 [bolded] verses, but I thought I’d include it all here. Here’s another auditory sample, this one without the weird humming.

The first verse stopped me. Drew me into a place where cynicism isn’t allowed. A place where God is. – We were all still the same bunch of preening and self-centered people – but for a moment, I praised God.
Sadly, I can’t even say I made it to the 4th verse without the cynical commentator in my head getting fired up again. – But for a few moments everything that we get wrong - as a people and as a church - didn’t matter. For a few moments, I was able to worship, because of who God is, regardless of my surroundings.

I would say I’m still transitioning – and that the adjustment from housechurch to Big Church still causes discontinuity. It causes moments when I look on as a dispassionate observer. But, to call it a transition is not really accurate. I’ll never get there. The style in which I can most comfortably lose myself and worship God with abandon will not happen in this gilded sanctuary on Tyler Street. I will not transition and get used to it. The lesson for me is to worship, regardless. That seems right. I would have said for years that worship should happen regardless of circumstance. But, I always had outlets where I still got to sing songs where I could close my eyes and raise my hands. Until now. My attitudes are far behind my thinking, and now, I’m really seeing how far the gap is.

Praise to the Lord, the Almighty the King of Creation! Oh my soul, praise Him...
Thanks, God, for those moments of worship that are TRUE.

четверг, сентября 22, 2005

Evacuate the Evacuees

Chris and I are up at the Amarillo Civic Center with the other crisis adrenaline junkies.
They are expecting 1000 people who have evacuated the Gulf because of Rita.
Last time, "they" also said 1000 were coming, and we only got 100 people from New Orleans.
Those people are now all in apartments, with furniture. Several are finding jobs, and many say they plan on being permanent Amarillo residents.
So, here we are this time.
Waiting.
The place is definitely prepared. A few families have already trickled in. They drove themselves out, and are on the way to family in other places.
Soon, a plane will land with some people that we have heard are Katrina evacuees that were in Beaumont, and will now be here.

Waiting....caffinated....people watching....

суббота, сентября 17, 2005

Parades make me happy.

We just got back from the Tri-State Fair parade.
We saw horses.
We saw firetrucks.
We saw marching bands.
We saw grown men wearing fezzes riding around in circles in tiny cars.

Fun times.

пятница, сентября 16, 2005

Friday Poetry (2 for 1, part 1)

Faces

All those shades of beautiful faces.
The census tells us the faces are mostly brown.
And poor.

Some weren't poor, but now they are.
What they had, washed away.

Some are the richest ever -
They've found and been found.

Some are poor in ways money can't replace -
They've lost and they won't find.

But they will continue.
Far away, in a place never visited,
Probably never imagined.
A place with no ocean, no lakes, no Hurricane.
Maybe these new faces will bring jazz
To this unimagined, unvisited,
Welcoming place.

Friday Poetry (2 for 1, part 2)


Tiny


Tiny fingers so smooth
Liquid cool
Play across my hand, my arm, my face.
So delicate.
Reaching to steady as she stands.
Brushing past as she grasps.
Tiny, the softest pressure barely felt.
So perfect, I wait for the next touch.

So smooth liquid cool.

Eliora and her tiny hands.


четверг, сентября 15, 2005

New Orleans on my mind

Vision for New Orleans
I read this vision/prophecy/dream a few days ago. It's really stuck with me. Gave me lots to think about. Lots to pray about.
Thanks, Derek. Who I don't know, but with whom I have people in common.

There's also a followup post. A spiritual interpretation/analysis of the events after Katrina by Amy.

Open our eyes to see, Lord.

вторник, сентября 13, 2005

Breaking news...

This just in, from "Doppler Dave", one of Amarillo's weathermen:

This isn't the kind of cold front that blows in and takes the shingles off your house. Its the kind of front that just eases in, so if your weiner dog was outside today, it's probably okay.

What???!?

I was laughing out loud, and Chris insisted that I knew what Dave meant. I.honestly.have.no.idea.

пятница, сентября 09, 2005

Birthday Pictures

Okay, so I posted the pictures to Flickr. (Link in title, although it doesn't appear underlined.)
But. When the pictures uploaded they reversed order. So, before the birthday party, you'll see us playing at the park.
Of course, the reversed order really only matters if you're looking at these as a slide show, and notice the cake magically disappearing from Eli's face!

Enjoy.

вторник, сентября 06, 2005

D*&%M SPAM!

Aarrgh.
The spammers got me.
I've hidden the comments on the last post, and now have set up the secret password word verification option.

Hopefully that will take care of it.

We're back from Red River.
We have 1000 NOLA refugees in Amarillo. Pretty sure they must feel like they've come to the end of the world.
Of course, 1000 is nothing compared to the 200K+ in Houston...

Chris' brother Scott is in New Orleans.
He evacuated, but is now back, as a resident at the only working hospital in New Orleans.

Okay, folks, goodbye now.