Dippoting

Dear Steve,

2011-08-29T19:57:00.000-07:00

The day you went home, Grant and I were on our way to a youth group event (we've been hanging out with the high schoolers at our church lately and either they haven't figured out yet how uncool we are or they just don't mind). It was a pool party to enjoy summer and say goodbye to the youth pastor, who is moving to Seattle to start graduate school.
Brandon and Gaby were there, too. It was a sweet comfort to know they were missing you, too, and aware of the sadness that was present for us in the midst of the laughing and swimming and eating potato chips.
At the end of the evening, all the kids gathered together to pray for the pastor who was leaving. It was beautiful to hear their hearts and their prayers for the man who has taught them and loved them for the last 4 years. They were clearly sad to be losing him, and yet hopeful about his future and the things he was going to pursue. I thanked God for the lesson I had learned over and over at Camp Alandale that in God's family it's never "goodbye;" it's always "see you later."
As we prayed, I remembered how much of an impact a youth pastor can have on a life. I remembered how you made sure everyone in the college group had your number and made sure that they knew to call you if they ever needed help. I remember so many times that you shared about your life and how God was teaching you, like the day you said God answered your prayer to help you avoid a particular sin by keeping you so busy that you didn't have time. You welcomed us into your home and your family. We prayed with you and Sonja as you longed for a baby and we prayed with you in the airport after a lovely visit with you and your son - who had given us a lesson in flyfishing. Your life has shaped my faith and the way that I see God in ways that I am sure I don't even realize, and so many that I do. Thank you.
How gracious and loving our Father is, providing that party and prayer night at just that time. He didn't need to, but it was a beautiful gift. He is so wonderful. Give Him a hug for me, would you?

See you later,
Megan

Sometimes when I drive...

2009-11-07T17:56:00.000-08:00

...my car turns off. It's a hybrid, so the engine shuts off when I come to a stop. Which makes it very quiet. And kind of spooky. Especially when I'm on my way home late at night. So periodically I contemplate ways to drive home without having to stop once. So far my strategy involves making a lot of right turns. I'd try it some time if I was a better driver. For now, I just turn up the radio.

...I start to feel very comfortable in my seat and try to curl up, cross-legged. Then I remember I need my feet for the pedals. That's what the word comes from, right? Ped-als?

...I feel hopesul as I near the building that puts up catchy quotes on a marquee. I wonder if they will have a new one. But, alas, it's the same as it's been for the last 3 months: "we must be the change we want to see."

...I listen to classical radio on KUSC. I like that I can drive all the way from work to home and it only takes one and a half songs.

...I listen to that radio station with my brother in the car and ask him if he likes it, for the sheer enjoyment of hearing him admit he likes something from my alma mater.

Fundamental: an un-rant

2009-05-15T23:46:00.000-07:00

1. Abortion
2. Littering
3. Wearing a seatbelt

I take a bit of pride in my ability to consider somebody else's point of view. If I get cut off on the freeway, I consider that the other driver may have some sort of emergency, or maybe they are normally a very considerate driver and today has been "one of those days."

I think it's a shame when I discover that someone I care about has no tolerance for something I'm fond of, like seafood or cats or board games. But I can attribute this to a difference in tastes and leave it at that.

And various philosophical, ethical, and theological issues I'm willing to engage in discussion about and consider the complexities therein.

But some categories, like the three above, are stumbling blocks for me. I cannot see how a reasonable person would take any stance other than the one I take. But obviously not everyone agrees with me, either in theory or in practice (which are not so distant from each other). This baffles me. I really have no satisfactory explanation for it. And I've tried.

Voting and pornography also fall into this category, but they're about one notch lower in intensity than the consternation those first three bring me, as far as people differing from my viewpoint.

I'm sure that "sin" is a viable explanation, but I want something that goes a bit beyond that. Maybe that's me embracing post-modernism, or some other idealogical vice of my generation. I think what I really want to know is how somebody on the other side of the line from me - on any of those topics - comes to that conclusion. Or does it baffle them, too?

Double Double

2009-04-05T23:54:00.000-07:00

It was Palm Sunday and I was 4 years old, praying along with a puppet in Sunday School. I knew it was my dad behind the curtain, but I didn't know all that a life with God as my Father would bring. I still only know such a small portion.

So Palm Sunday this year was a birthday in two senses for me, one immeasurably more important than the other.

I heard a man on a radio show one day while I was driving to work talking about goals he had written down for his life. I can only remember 3, but there might have been 5. As the things he would focus on, he had chosen to: be a lifelong learner, be a faithful husband to his wife, and grow his business by a certain amount. It was an encouraging discussion that I cannot do justice. But I liked that he had goals about relationships, himself, and his talents.

I'd like to make a similar list someday. But not hastily, because if I make the list, I want to really stand by it, weigh decisions against it. Which means, I don't want it to be a list at all. But I do like the idea, in some form. So, starting now (and a few weeks before) I am going to be thinking and praying about it. And maybe I'll make a family crest someday, too, because I heard a speaker yesterday who talked about that, and I liked it.

15 x 15

2009-04-05T23:24:00.000-07:00

My friend Annie made a list of 30 things she wanted to do before she turns 30. Being less ambitious and less punctual, I've decided on a list of 15 things to do by New Year's Day of 2015. Ta da!

Be licensed as a social worker

Establish an exercise routine I enjoy AND maintain

Experience the gift of prophecy

Finish Les Miserables (only 400 pages to go) and continue through a reading list

Get ready to be a mom

Initiate regular conversations with my grandparents

Make coffee like Linda Ballsmith (and learn to set tea)

Pay off education loans

Play djembe for corporate worship

See a friend commit his or her life to Jesus Christ

Share a heart-to-heart with each of my in-laws

Speak Spanish

Stay involved with Camp Alandale

Visit Israel

Write a children's book

B Day

2009-03-17T00:00:00.000-07:00

If today is your birthday, then this post is for you*.

And the 23 posts to follow are all yours as well. Couldn't find any gift wrap, but I decided blogging at least twice a month will be my present to you. I hope it fits.

*Additional qualifications include having once been my roommate, knowing that this blog exists, and having a weakness for rock candy

2008-01-29T20:09:00.000-08:00

Back whenever Megan created this blog, she said, "Hey! You should be a contributor!"

I thought to myself at the time, "Why? I hate blogging," and then said, "Ok! Great!" I have no real explanation for that...I think I just really wanted the balloon picture to make sense.

I haven't posted anything...I don't think. But now, I'm part of a first year teacher program in which I am required to blog my reflections of various aspects of my 'incorporating technology into my classroom' course. So I posted something on my blog for that (I wouldn't dream of boring you any more than I already may be doing), and then I thought, "This must be what my students feel like when they have to write literary analysis papers." Maybe it's not exactly the feeling (after all, I at least did it), but it does give me some perspective. And perhaps it will give me some empathy. High school sophmores certainly need that.

Final irony of the night- being forced to reflect on my learning from my other blog forced me to actually reflect on my learning.

Irresolute

2008-01-17T22:59:00.000-08:00

Annie, I may call you more often.

Floor, I might just find all of you and make you shine.

California, this could be the year that I complete my paperwork and finish up that credential.

Blogspot, there's a decent chance you'll see a bit more of me in the months to come.

Greg, I intend to vote - and be informed enough to defend my choices.

Work, I'll take a shot at leaving you on time and stop visiting you on Fridays.

Lisa, I want to remember to send support for you consistently. Oh, and by the way, I'm considering using my water bill as a reminder to give to developing countries.

Body, I'm sorry but I'll probably just keep collecting good ideas planning to use them someday.

Camp, you're my only source of exercise, so I expect I'll keep coming.

Emotions, I've given some thought to seeing a counselor.

Television, it's been fun but I think we should start seeing other people.

Budget, let's set a date to meet. Maybe we could get together for a cup of coffee... or water.

Djembe, harmonica, guitar, keyboard, I might at least think of you more often.

Kerry, I may finally write to you.
Heather Marie, I might send more than one letter.
Katie, I hope I catch up on your posts.
Grammy, I'd like to call you regularly.
Nathan, we might go on field trips together.

Lord Jesus, I will fail this year.
Phew. Glad I got that off my chest.

Home again

2007-10-12T00:53:00.000-07:00

An adaptation of a synopsis...

Toward the mid-point of the story, the Shepherd leads Much-Afraid to the "Place of Anointing" where she will make the choice for downward mobility and begin the final phase of her journey to the "High Places." As they stand together "at the foot of the cliffs" they hear the "voice of a mighty waterfall...whose rushing waters sprang from the snows in the High Places themselves..." As she listened, Much-Afraid realized that she was hearing the full majestic harmonies, the whole orchestra as it were...thousands upon thousands of voices...yet still the same song:

From the heights we leap and go
To the valleys down below,
Always answering the call,
To the lowest place of all.

When the Shepherd asks Much-Afraid, "What do you think of this fall of great waters in their abandonment of self-giving?" She replies, "I think they are beautiful and terrible beyond anything which I ever saw before." "Why terrible?" the Shepherd asks, already knowing the answer. "It is the leap which they have to make, the awful height from which they must cast themselves down to the depths beneath there to be broken on the rocks. I can hardly bear to watch it." However, at the bidding of the Shepherd, Much-Afraid looks more closely, and begins to see her experience with his eyes and to hear "The Song of the Waterfall" with his ears and so is able to make the rest of the journey. The Shepherd says:

At first sight perhaps the leap does look terrible, but as you can see, the water itself finds no terror in it, no moment of hesitation or shrinking, only joy unspeakable, and full of glory, because it is the movement natural to it. Self-giving is its life. It has only one desire, to go down and down and give itself with no reserve or holding back of any kind.

Ding Dong, yo

2007-09-28T14:48:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I listen to this song a lot (as in, several times in succession).
And sometimes (all the time) I sing along.
And sometimes I sing along with these words instead:

We all get hungry sometimes, it's just a matter of how you take it
Some of us can bake, but then it's so hard
Sunny's isn't open, Norms is too far
Find someone selling me a sandwich, except that I can't stand Swiss
Cheese, only provolone

Fridges at night only yield frozen peas
One glazed confection is calling, oh
Longing for Ho Hos can lead to salivation
Polyunsaturation ain't as real as melted butter, oh

It's just a matter of how you take it...

Why such a long wait for lox and cream cheese?
Trying to diet's not helping, oh
One's imagination can make the situation worse
"Plates of dessert-" you wish, "I'd make a meal of nothing more."

...we all get hungry sometimes. It's just a matter of how you take it.

Admittedly, parody is not the sincerest form of flattery. It also is not the most labor-intensive, as I merely fiddled with the work already put in by the artist. But I do enjoy that the flippancy of my version seems to underscore, in contrast, the earnestness of the original.

Passing along practically useless information...

2007-09-15T11:06:00.001-07:00

...because I just don't know what else to do with it. This entry is brought to you courtesy of Dictionary.com

Panjandrum was coined by Samuel Foote (1720-1777) in a piece of nonsense writing:

So she went into the garden to cut a cabbage-leaf to make an apple-pie; and at the same time a great she-bear, coming up the street, pops its head into the shop. "What! No soap?" So he died, and she very imprudently married the barber: and there were present the Picninnies, and the Joblillies, and the Garyulies, and the grand Panjandrum himself, with the little round button at top, and they all fell to playing the game of catch-as-catch-can till the gunpowder ran out at the heels of their boots.

It was composed on the spot to challenge actor Charles Macklin's claim that he could memorize anything. Macklin is said to have refused to repeat a word of it.

Family Resemblance: Part 2

2007-09-14T15:02:00.000-07:00

Welcome to the Cabin on Ruby Drive. We hope you'll find everything in order. Except for the salt shaker. We hope you never find that. In an attempt to keep the house tidy and comfortable during your stay, we ask that you leave your shoes, purses, diaper bags, keys, joint pain, hot flashes, umbrellas, and worries by the door.
Warning: this building and the furnishings therein may contain chemicals known to the state of California to cause nostalgia and reverting to childhood behavior. Side effects may include teasing, giggling, whispering while cuddled on couches, pranks, singing, whistling, throwing small objects, intense board game competition, and across-the-room silent conversations. Such behavior may be confusing or alarming to grandchildren.
We regret that you may not stay here permanently. Please make sure to exchange pieces of yourselves before you leave.
Sincerely, the Management

This just in

2007-09-05T22:38:00.000-07:00

She has a name.

Runners Up:

> Patches

> Giblet

> Madeline

> Putcher Head

> Dulce

Beating out the competition by a landslide:

"Scout"

And she likes to cuddle.

"Come here, Scout," said Atticus. I crawled into his lap and tucked my
head under his chin. He put his arms around me and rocked me gently.
from Chapter 9 of everybody's favorite Harper Lee work

Family Resemblance: Part I

2007-09-03T19:26:00.000-07:00

20-something Garcias, former Garcias, future Garcias, and assorted others gathered in the mountains for a reunion to celebrate Grandpa's 90th birthday. What fun to look through pictures from half a century ago and see echos of aunts and uncles and cousins and brothers. And I get a glimpse of what I may look like by the time I have grandkids.

I walked out onto the back patio with my Bible and journal Saturday morning and found a seat with a scenic view. As I settled in, the seat next to me caught my eye. It was vacant, but resting on the arm was a Bible I knew in an instant. Dad had already had a morning talk with Jesus.

During breakfast Grandpa told about mission trips to Guatemala, unexpected donations of Bibles to distribute, and seeing hundreds of soldiers give their lives to Christ.

I'm glad I've got their genes, but at the end of the day, I hope the traits that are the most strikingly similar between us are the ones that must be intentionally handed down.

...and many more

2007-08-27T23:44:00.000-07:00

It didn't matter that he couldn't open his eyes because of a painful infection.
It didn't matter that he was there as part of a ministry that involves hard work and continual self-sacrifice.

It only mattered that he had been rubbing in the fact that he lives in Hawaii. And I had to strike while the iron was hot.

"Tonight's sunset is beautiful."
"How would you know? You can't see it."
"Because I've seen a lot of sunsets here. And they're always beautiful."

Invincible. Darn it. God beats everything in Rock, Paper, Scissors, Infinity.

I pray for a heart like his. That, when I have sight, my eyes will be focused on what is glorious. That, when I am blinded, I will have confidence because I have seen the goodness of the Lord. That, when others question, I will declare what I know is true.

Voracious

2007-08-08T22:02:00.000-07:00

"Help yourself to anything," she insisted."There's cottage cheese and milk. And edimame in the freezer."

So I did.
I ate two pickles and some of the mystery casserole she left on the refrigerator shelf.
I munched on cereal and popcorn and frozen cookie dough.
I sampled her dishes and her cookware, her jewelry and her wardrobe.
I savored singleness as I drank in the details of this place where they are beginning life together.
I tasted the tiniest morsel of the love letters scattered about the house - just enough to appreciate their rich, sweet flavor, and still remain guilt-free.

Tonight I found the smorgasbord. It had been in front of my eyes for three days, but I failed to notice. A vast array of tantalizing entrees and mouth-watering delicacies. Old friends and strangers and legends all crowded together, and those possessing the most charisma given a place of honor.

I think my eyes are bigger than my stomach.

While she feasts on lobster and the midnight buffet, I fill my plate with chapters from her bookshelves. I think I'll start with dessert first. Mmm... O'Henry.

Nonage

2007-08-04T12:25:00.000-07:00

[If you need an epiphany, I recommend driving on the freeway. Taking a shower is also a pretty good bet.]

This idea presented itself to me recently: What if I relinquished my age? Of course, what I meant by it was not that I would cease to have an age, but that I would willingly avoid awareness of it. Maybe I could try it for a limited time to see if I liked it.

Several advantages (most of them frivolous) came to mind. My favorite is the potential for conversations with people who don't really know me. I imagined the following exchange with, let's say, a parent of one of my clients.

"Do you mind if I ask how old you are?"
"Not at all."
[pause]
"so...how old are you?"
"Well, that's actually an interesting question. I don't have an age."
"what?"
"Well, I mean, I do. But I challenged myself to live for a year without any particular age. So I just tell people I don't have one."
"Are you trying not to answer the question?"
"oh, no. It's just something I'm doing...for me. Ask me in a year, and I'll be happy to tell you how old I am."
"Weird."
"Yeah, I know."
"You look really young."
"Thanks."

When I got home to check my email, I discovered "nonage" was the word of the day on July 20. Talk about serendipity! (which was WOD on July 26) But, alas, the definition was nowhere near a reflection of my idea. I wonder if there's a site where you can look up words by their definition...

Resolved

2007-08-03T17:47:00.000-07:00

I have a shirt whose tag reads thus

Machine wash cold with like colors...
Remove promptly while damp
Hold both ends
Twist tightly and knot
Leave until dry
DO NOT IRON

I must remember to purchase more items that prohibit me from doing chores.

Stranger Anxiety

2007-07-18T23:19:00.000-07:00

There's no place like weddings for running into old friends and remembering how enjoyable their company is. Apologies for not keeping in touch are accompanied by an unspoken resolve to maintain better communication from now on. And to exercise after New Year's and to stop starting craft projects that I won't finish...

And two years later when I still haven't talked to them, something will inevitably happen to remind me how much I want to be friends with these people. But my desire to call or write to them meets an equal and opposite force of guilt over not having called them all this time. This gives birth to the imaginative and somewhat irrational worry that if I did call I would undoubtedly mention something that was unknowingly insensitive to whatever life-changing or traumatic event has taken place in their life recently that I would have known about had I stayed in closer contact.

So I look both longingly and hesitantly at their names in my phonebook. This is what we call an approach-avoidance conflict. Then I tell myself I'll call them soon, but not today. This is what we call denial. Then I curl up on the floor and suck my thumb. This is what we call nap time.

Consequently, I have taken to seizing opportunities, when I run into old friends, to tell them in no uncertain terms, "I'm horrible at keeping in touch with people. Just know that even if you don't hear from me for seven years, you are always welcome on my phone, in my home, and in my heart." Can't say how effective this approach is. So far the only response I've gotten is "you should embroider that on a pillow."

Oriented x3

2007-07-10T21:50:00.000-07:00

On my lunch break, I went to Farmer Boys.

After staring at the menu for at least 5 minutes, I step forward to order. "Your name, please?" "Megan," and I move to stand by the door while I check my voicemail.

I like my new/old job. A familiar setting. People I admire and enjoy working with. There's just the small problem of my office. That is, I like my office, but I don't get to use it for the first few weeks. I'm in office purgatory, using a temporary phone extension while I wait to unpack my pencil holders and post-it note collection. What to put on my business cards? At least I know my name. And my degree. I have a paper that backs me up on that one.

"Dan?" The man wearing a t-shirt and baseball cap grabs one of the bags being held out over the counter.

"Club sandwich?" I nod, and put my phone back in my purse. Lunch in hand, I push open the door and mutter "MSW."

Mea Culpa

2007-07-07T14:56:00.000-07:00

I haven't even started and already blogger and blogspot have washed their hands of me. Reading through the Terms of Service it became apparent that as far as they're concerned I'm on my own.

"You agree that you are responsible for your own use of the service, for any
posts you make, and for any consequences thereof."

So if your little brother decides to steal a car and drive to San Francisco after reading one of my posts, I'll take the blame. I'll even write you a letter of apology. Or, if something I write prompts someone to write a comment which encourages you to exhort a friend who then decides to spend the rest of her life telling prisoners about Jesus... I get the credit for that, too. Blogger said so. Rather presumptuous if you ask me.

And in case you still aren't convinced that they're distancing themselves from my content, they reiterate:

"Google does not endorse, support, represent or guarantee the truthfulness, accuracy, or reliability of any communications posted via the service..."

Well, who could blame them, really, when this is what they expect:

"By their very nature blospot.com and blogger.com may carry offensive, harmful, inaccurate, or otherwise inappropriate material."

I'll do my best.