For Today's Thinker

--An Excerpt From Martin Luther's Spiritual Last Will & Testament. CONFESSION CONCERNING CHRIST'S SUPPER (1528), Part 3 by Martin Luther, 1483-1546. Translation by Rev. Robert E. Smith from the German text in: DR. MARTIN LUTHERS WERKE: KRITISCHE GESAMTAUSGABE.(Weimar: Herman Boehlaus Nachfolger, 1909), pp.499-500.--

"Because I see that the mobs are always growing, the number of errors are always increasing and Satan's rage and ruin have no end, I wish to confess with this work my faith before God and the whole world, point by point. I am doing this, lest certain people cite me or my writings, while I am alive or after I am dead, to support their errors, as those fanatics, the Sacramentarians and the Anabaptists, have begun to do. I will remain in this confession until my death (God help me!), will depart from this world in it, and appear before the Judgment Seat of our Lord Jesus Christ.

So that no one will say after my death, ``If Luther was alive, he would teach and believe this article differently, because he did not think it through sufficiently,'' I state the following, once and for all: I, by God's grace, I have diligently examined these articles in the light of passages throughout the Scriptures. I have worked on them repeatedly and you can be sure that I want to defend them, in the same way that I have just defended the Sacrament of the Altar.

No, I'm not drunk or impulsive. I know what I am saying and understand fully what this will mean for me as I stand before the Lord Jesus Christ on the Last Day. No one should think that I am joking or rambling. I'm serious! By God's grace, I know Satan very well. If Satan can turn God's Word upside down and pervert the Scriptures, what will he do with my words -- or the words of others?"


How interesting to think of this excerpt in light of how people have tried to pervert Luther's words even to this day. I just thought this was quite a thinker. So, I wanted ot share it. =)

Like a Child

Do you remember your childhood fantasy?
“When I grow up I want to be a …”
Elementary schools nationwide obsess over a child’s drive toward a future occupation or life-goal. Journal entry after journal entry is written upon, or in Kindergarten, each journal picture is drawn depicting your childhood fantasies. Some pursue those childhood fantasies. “When I was little I wanted to be a Sunday School Teacher,” Carla told me a few weeks ago as she set out chairs for the Miamisburg “Daniel” Bible Study. And yet others merely laugh at their old dreams and ambitions, tossing them to the dusty path of past memories.

When I was little, I, like every other Kindergarten child, wanted to be a teacher. And then I wanted to be any other number of things from a writer to a world-famous babysitter.

Oh yes, there are dreams that have “matured” through the years… At four, I wanted to be a mother of sixteen children. As I grew older my dreams “matured” and I wanted to be a mother of ten, then eight, then four, then three, then four, then eight, and now six children. [I know, I know… I’m crazy and every other comment that you think I haven’t heard and yet have already heard regarding everyone else’s opinion of how I should run this life of “mine.”]

But there is one dream that grew with me and that I haven’t lost… but still hangs in the future, regardless of whether or not it will ever come near. This dream stirs silly childhood, “I can do anything” thoughts. The “I can excel if I put my mind to it” thoughts that come with chocolate milk mustaches. The “I actually could do this,” thoughts that come with experience.

---Yes, world, I’m a dreamer. ---

I wish I could describe the high I felt standing in my purple dress in front of the Jr. High parents. Or that true high, after giving my life to the Lord, that I felt while praying that God would use me from a 45 degree angled big wooden bed as I awaited my first high school musical entrance chords. Or that feeling of looking into the peering faces as I sat on the stage extension, stacking harmonies with a friend. Or the high of standing, with knocking knees, before my high school youth group and strumming my first few chords of worship. Or the feeling of stepping away from the microphone sophomore year of college and hearing a sea of voices carry the chorus of “How Great is Our God.” I wish I could describe the high of standing in the recording studio, with my favorite person to sing with standing beside me. The tension pulsed through me as we “sang like we always do,” but this time with a different, one-shot-take audience. I wish I could describe the complete assurance of who you were created to be of standing in a dark room, releasing the very pit of who you are with a group of teenagers and a few buzzing chords.

It’s weird how God has taken me from desiring the fame of my name to desiring His Fame. And yet He has used the same tool all these years.

It’s weird, but I really don’t feel that He is finished with that tool yet. In fact, the child within me leaps at the thought of what He could do with a willing pair of hands.


And what He already has done…

Rhyming Whatnots

Kind friends in the land of virtual reading,
I wanted to send word of my continual breathing.
For recently my existence you may have doubted,
But no fear, my friends, I haven't been outed.

For here in the quiet I wait for a task
As deep sighs of boredom here do pass.
For here at work all files have been filed
And sadly indeed all lowly reports compiled.

Minutes birth months, Seconds birth hours,
But still hope lives within me and in me it flowers.
For when alas the hour of five arrives
Out to the streets we'll run like bees to our hives.

Car after car we'll fill the streets in a car ballet
And stop-and-go traffic will begin with no delay.
As this passenger smiles at the time therefore wasted
And wonders if she'll make it despite no time hasted.

But after the days and hours and weeks,
To the church she'll arrive with color in her cheeks.
And there the weekend she'll spend with the youth
Each one joyously grinning sharing each tooth.

Alas, my dear friends, the big and the small,
Indeed, Monica's not dead... no not dead at all.
She is merely enjoying what life brings her way,
The job, the traffic, the ministry and the play.

So to all as the time comes, and indeed comes quite fast,
I wish you the most blessed Thanksgiving blast.
And may you find thanks in each and every way,
For the things God has given you, throughout each boring day.

=)

Flushed Wisdom

I woke up this morning thinking. I know, scary!!! Who knew... Monica thinks?

I wondered what the elderly must think. You know, we young folks have only experienced just a piece of what it is to be an American, but the elderly have seen so much change in their lifetime.

And I just began to think a bit about some of the wisdom that could be hidden in their eyes.

I'm not naive enough to believe that age equals wisdom. But some age does equal wisdom. And I began to wonder when we as a society began not to respect that wisdom.

Now in days the common thought is that the elderly in our communities are too old for ____ and really anything can be filled into the blank. Driving, taking care of themselves, etc. But at what point in society did we make that conclusion. I'm sure it was near the time that we as a society decided that parents are no longer sources of apprenticeship, but aliens who never experienced the struggles that "we kids" go through. And now we call that rebellion "the teenage years". Only that theory is no longer holding to merely teenage years as "pre-teens" have begun to adopt the same level of disrespect. But that's a whole other topic, though tied in some way.

I just was thinking this morning in the quiet of our apartment. I wondered what wisdom lies behind elderly eyes. Wars, they have seen. Hurt. Destruction. Famine. Deprivation. They have survived it all. Yes, some are cynical and have resorted to hating every day of existence. But I wonder what is behind the smiling eyes of the elderly who have experienced all this change in our country, from the introduction of cars to the Internet. What do they think as they look into public schools? What do they think as they view our dealings with Iraq and now the talk of Iran? What do they think as homosexual laws are spoken of? Or what do they think of the growing pornography industry?

Do they miss home? When they look at the amount of children in foster care, do they miss home? Or when they watch our generation devalue their worth and their wisdom, do they just want to go home?

I'm not saying that all the people in our generation hate the elderly. This is not a political or psychological stance that I am ever planning on taking. But when it comes to the elderly, are we really seeing those rightly who have overcome so much in their lives and still cling to the cross? We, on Christ's side of the cross, are we seeking out and respecting their wisdom? Or is the assumption of Alzheimer's our default?

I was just thinking...

I was just wondering...

The Middle Class

Casting Crowns has a new album out and there's this song called, "Caught in the middle" that is my newest ear candy (as Phil Wing says). Casting Crowns has been notorious for sending out a lyrical challenge for the Christian Church to be alive and real. And this song speaks just to that challenge. See, I'm cool with accepting that challenge and the lyrics flow from my life as long as I don't have to act it out when it really hurts.

"Fearless warriors in a picket fence

Reckless abandon caught in common sense

Deep water faith in the shallow end
and we're caught in the middle..."

I thought I'd try it. Who knows what I'd find. Nothing else was working. Marcia answered the phone, "hi, do you need a job?" Today I observed the children because Marcia refused to allow me to make a contract to teach before knowing what I had signed up to do. "The wild ones" were their logo. But when I saw their faces I knew the three year old mentality was just a phase of socialization that these kids were struggling to grasp. I talked with Theresa about the needs and my ideas to help encourage the functioning of that social group. Baby steps, but with some time, consistency, and love those children could really learn to function in their little social world. "You are an answer to our prayers," the honesty rang from my friend's lips. "I can't promise a long period of time," reality spoke from our checkbook. "But even if you're here for a little while..." I left that building I had left so many times before, but this time feeling I truly was supposed to return.

"An interview," my voicemail promised. The two words I have been waiting for three weeks to hear. Yet my heart broke. I looked at the building still before me.
'You are an answer to our prayers.'

I've learned that an interview doesn't promise a job. Oh, how I've learned that. But how can I be at two places? What does Your timing really look like, God? Especially in light of all this.

I found the middle today.

...................now what?.....................now where?...........................

Crickets...and Updates

Hi there, friends. It's been a few days since I've even thought about typing in an entry. But for those of you who are feverishly hungry for the fulfillment that comes with reading my blog... I'm writing for you. Hey, where'd everyone go? (crickets.)

Well, anyway... I'm writing none the less. Not a whole lot has changed recently. I am enjoying the married life. Matt and I are learning more and more of what it means to share everything and function as a unit. That's fun. It's challenging at times, but Matt and I really do work well (surprise, surprise), so it's fun too.

Tonight is an Associational Meeting at our church, so that means Matt and I get to pretend to be competent leaders of the youth group. [J/k... Matt is competent.] But anyway, I get to sing in the mass choir made up of 6 or so churches that will be "entertaining" the evening session of the meeting tonight. And Matt and I get to suffer through the early session as "church representatives". I honestly look forward to it. I know, that officially classifies me as a loser AGAIN. But I am actually excited to spend the evening with a bunch of church leaders from some 10 or so area churches. I don't really know why, but it just makes me feel... involved... and a part of something so much bigger than our little church. Funny how God has excited my heart about a silly little meeting. But none the less... excited I am.

For those of you who haven't heard my complaining recently (I now, that's no one), but yes, it is true, I am still sick. Yes, I've been sick for about 3 weeks and am still sick. It seems to be a constant lifestyle for me lately. But hey... there ya go.
But in light of being sick, I have relearned the value of having two functioning nostrils, pukeless feeling tendencies, and sleep.

I am a part of a Daniel study that the ladies at our church are going through and that is fun. It's neat to be involved in a women's group. And it's neat to get to meet the ladies outside of the typical 5 minutes of "meet and greet" during the service.

So, yeah... that's me for now... sick, enjoying the feel of a small church, and thrilling in the little things that God is allowing me to be a part of. And for the record... while I am still jobless, I am learning daily to appreciate the opportunities God has given me while I've been unemployed. (For example, I've gotten to help out a friend, annoy another friend -love ya, Robin!-, meet with an old youth during "working hours", eat lunch with Matt, and I'll get to go support Matt at his first funeral. ) I am focusing more and more on the value of God's circumstances and opportunities in my life right now. And even in loss of what I thought I needed, I am finding God's blessing. Thanks be to God for teaching me to rely more fully on what He declares to be my needs. I love You, Lord.

This One

I was talking to a good friend as I drove her back to her apartment. We discussed "this generation" and our concerns about it. I brought up the fact that no one seems to get out of the way for the emergency vehicles anymore. Oh we might stop, if the vehicle appears to need to turn in front of us on a four lane road. Or if it's a cop, well they could give us a ticket, so we'll stop. But I have noticed as a few ambulances have passed me in the past week, that no one really moves over anymore. Are we that selfish of a generation?

I got my blood donor card in the mail today (well, a few days ago, but I just now opened it). You'd think I was a hero with the way that the letter and even shiny pamphlet thanked me again and again for my generosity. The printed words emphasized over and over again through flattering words that I had "saved three people's lives" and all this other hero-like puffing up. Oh I know there's always a blood shortage. Run from the needles. Run! - No really, those needles are not small.- But it was wild to watch the desperate plea from the American Red Cross for a few pints of my blood. Are we that selfish of a generation?

I just kind of wondered what this generation will come to. As my friend mentioned this morning we are the "don't discipline them" generation and the "don't give them an F in school or it'll hurt their feelings" generation. And I wonder what will become of us. Oh, I know what the end product will be. But I wonder in the midst of this process what will be the choices and the chaos our generation causes. I find it funny that our generation doesn't want to grow up. Why would we when our childhood was so "protected"? I mean why not be a tween (twenty year old who acts like a teenager). Why stop going to school? We know when we graduate we'll have to grow up, so get another degree, head on to grad school... heck even get your PhD. But once you're done with school... then what? Is it really that college has become another extension of high school? I mean I talk to people all the time about their future families and they stress that they don't want to have too many kids because they won't be able to pay for all of their children's college. Even in my own desire for a big family, the immediate response is "how will you pay for their college". And I think... I WON'T! It's their education, not mine! I had to do it on my own and I learned so much from it. Why deprive them of that chance to grow up?

But even beyond our generation, I wonder what's going to happen to the next generation. The generation our generation produces. You know... the germophobic generation. Haven't you see the commercials? The Lysol mom. Kid sneezes, but the "good" mom is there and ready to wipe off the kid's doorknob to disinfect the house so the child won't die from the norms of life. It's hilarious! And the new Lysol commercial where the mom and kids are running and playing in the completely bleached out household and the voice over speaks of that being the "ideal". Man, I can't imagine how the medical companies are going to prosper in our future. Because if you're not exposed to illness... you have a weak immune system. Seriously dude, I grew up eating stuff off the ground and I haven't died yet!!!

What's happening to this generation and what will be the effects of this one on the next generation? It's wild to think about it.

It really is wild.

Outside... the longing

Have you ever wanted to take flight? See the world? Leave it all behind?

I guess it's the adventurous spirit within me that yearns for such a "who knows where I could go" experience every once in a while. How I'd love to leave this all behind for a little while with no regrets and "see the world". Backpacking... biking... hiking.... camping out in the remotest parts of nowhereville. See the ocean crashing along the great shoreline. Walk through deep forests (with much bug spray) and up high mountainsides. Feel the exhaustion of accomplishment.

And then the reality of laundry, dinner to make, bills to pay, a job to get, and a cat to feed suck the adventure right out of this wanderer.

Oh well, looks like the only adventure I'll be having for now is this cough and headache.

Truthful Reflection

Ever looked in the mirror and saw you were running a fever?

-coughs and tries to use the left nostril to breathe.-

A Fight

Discipline is "my way" leaving the body. Discipline is "I can't" leaving the body. Discipline is rebellion leaving the body.

And true discipline requires a sacrifice. And true discipline may yield pain of some variety.

Yet the rewards for true discipline usually take some patient waiting, but will be far greater than anything you could ever imagine.

Reality

It's a Tuesday night.. I'm at college. ...

nothing but junkmail in my career path.

boo.... hiss.....

-angry eyes-

Announcing...

They're in

and Chris did awesome.

Never Know

Today I woke up with this thought and it followed me to the shower and to the car and to Wright State. This is the first time this thought ever occurred to me.

My children will never know my grandparents.

I got a phone call last night from my Dad. Grandpa is dying. They don't expect him to make it through the week. Dad and Mom are flying out tonight. Matt and I will be going to get their car from the airport and sending them onto the plane with hugs this evening. As one who processes the extent of loss after the fact, I don't expect to cry any time soon. It's not that my grandpa doesn't mean something to me, but it's that focusing on the facts is always my default in coping.

But the thoughts this morning brought up this new realm of reality. My children will never know my grandparents. And Matt may never know them either.

You know, a lot of people are blessed with supportive, loving families. They have big family reunions and the grandchildren get the opportunity to see their cousins, aunts, uncles, grandparents and even great grandparents.

I remember my great grandma Ruth briefly. Really once my memory kicked in great grandma Ruth was not doing so well health-wise. But Grandma would take us up to see her quite frequently. Jes and I would play with the few toys that great grandma had as grandma would take care of her mom. Great grandma Ruth didn't say much, as a result of a stroke. But we loved her because grandma loved her and grandma took the time to take care of her. (You know how kids are, they love people and things because important people in their lives love people or things.) One day we stopped visiting great grandma. And that was all I knew. I received a tea cup and saucer in the mail sometime afterward. Great grandma had left it for us. The orange set have traveled with me to UT and WSU and now reside in the China Nook. And the doll that great grandma made for me took on new meaning.

Grandparents are wonderful, especially mine. I could shower you readers with stories of working in the woodshop with Grandpa as he made wood come alive and I will never forget asking him to make me a rubber duck from wood before I left for Ohio. He kept telling me that he could make me a wood duck, but I told him I wanted a rubber duck of wood. (Stupid kid!) Or there's the "Little House on the Prairie" that would welcome us to grandma time. Jes and I would watch... grandma would sometimes nap.

And I wish I could tell you of stories with my Mom's parents, but they were never grandma and grandpa to me. Mom's dad died many years ago and Mom's mom never really enjoyed my family's company. So it's just weird to think that here shortly I will no longer have grandparents. At all.

No one so close to me has died yet and it's quite foreign to think about.




It's becoming more hard to think about as it sits with me...

Absent Blood

do you ever wish you could save someone?
it's not that you want to be their hero.
you just don't want them to have to face what is before them.
their decision is naive and will cause them more pain than they know.
very soon.
you just want to change their mind.
wrestle their pride to the ground.
break their inhibitions.
shatter their stubbornness.

oh if they could see the light they are missing!
if they only knew the beauty in surrender.
the overwhelming, overpowering flood of purpose and love.
surely they would run, hobble, crawl ...

choice is so hard to watch.
i can't imagine how You do it.
and it is through those moments of utter yearning
that i agree with Your life-giving compassion.
do you ever wish you could save someone?

only You can.


-how my heart hurts for you.-

speechless

---

---

-my grandpa in CA-

Today's Employment

It's 12:39pm on a Friday. Here I sit at the very school I have attempted to leave so many times before. This time graduated, which apparently means wearing black heels and dress clothes to the library. The career services interview a past success, despite a four-lane blocking accident delaying me fifteen minutes of my half hour window of "fix this on your resume" and "quickly, here's our computer system" time. The Other Place interview now lost into the world of "I need full-time, not part-time". Waiting on the Montgomery County machine to slowly get itself going. Whispers from rebellious platinum blond fashion queens echo copy machine cries and coughs. This place reeks of carelessness, acting and unemployment. My stomach complains. Laundry waits at the apartment. A hospital visit of a friend's sister looms. Productive, one could call it. Hard-working. Or also just plain lost. This job hunt. But this freight train fails to find fuel. "None Available" burns into my eyes with site after site. But Hope still remains. The trees wave through glass. The wind active again. And with ideas long gone, discovery hangs... yearning... waiting. Alas, these black heels find pavement beyond the library doors. Across the street. Within her past hatred they wait. Until at last they find their home on the wood floor... empty. A morning gone, with red feet and wasted paper it's products. Laundry calls. Visits persist. And then alas... rest.

Thus goes the story of today's employment.

Open Letters:

To the unemployed,
Sucks to be unemployed.
I feel ya.

Hoping to use this "wonderful" education,
me



To my husband,
I love you.
I'll try to geta job here soon.
But refer to the above letter.

Hoping your education doesn't proove as "bountiful",
me

To the zit that just popped on my face,
Nasty.
Resentingly,
me

To Understand the Shame.

But when the Son of Man comes in His glory, and all the angels with Him, then He will sit on His glorious throne. All the nations will be gathered before Him; and He will separate them from one another, as the shepherd separates the sheep from the goats; and He will put the sheep on His right, and the goats on His left.

Then the King will say to those on His right, 'Come you who are blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world. For I was hungry, and you gave Me something to eat; I was thirsty, and you gave Me something to drink; I was a stranger, and you invited Me in; naked, and you clothed Me; I was sick, and you visited Me; I was in prison, and you came to Me.'

Then the righteous will answer Him, 'Lord, when did we see You hungry, and feed You, or thirsty, and give You something to drink? And when did we see You a stranger, and invite You in, or naked, and clothe You? When did we see You sick, or in prison, and come to You?'

The King will answer and say to them, 'Truly I say to you, to the extent that you did it to one of these brothers of Mine, even the least of them, you did it to Me.'

-Matthew 25: 31-40

I think it's hard for the clothed to understand the shame of nakedness or for the free to comprehend the confinements of prison. In this passage, Christ makes the point that serving another brother is serving Him. But how can we serve another if we fail to see their desperation? This point has been made repetitively in the Social Work department. A social worker must empathize with the pains, stigmas, and griefs of a client's life circumstances. But here, Christ goes beyond acknowledging mere bench-warming empathy, but emphasizes again and again the actions of the righteous in meeting a brother's need. It's the actions and serving that recognizes the brother's worth, no matter what their life conditions and trials. Therefore, one does not need to become naked to understand nakedness, but merely value another enough to give them clothing.

But who ever said the clothing was ours to hoard in the first place?


Everything is the Lord's.

-Everything!-

To Maintain Comfort.

It's amazing to me how easily we can live in our heads. If I don't like what you're saying, I retreat to my own thoughts. You can't change those. You can't touch those. We can live in this state of, "you think you know me... but you don't." We can live in this, "I can reason through it. I can fix it."

I've just been thinking about old friends as I clear through more of the clutter that easily classifies me as a "junk keeper". I've just been thinking about some of the conversations we had. And been wondering about where some of them are in their lives right now. Who are their friend's now? What are their new hobbies?

But the real fascination I have as I flip through old chapters of my life is, when the lights go down at the end of the day and it's just them and their thoughts, who are they? I'm just curious. Are they who they want to be? Am I who I want to be?

...


It's so easy to stay in the comfortable. It's so easy to remain outside of conflict, outside of stressors, outside of life. It's so easy to sit behind a computer or a palm pilot and become just another fish in the sea. I'm not trying to imply that being on the computer or on the web or having the finances to be able to afford a palm pilot makes anyone a bad person. I'm just saying that face to face contact and actually going through the daily work of keeping a friendship or a relationship healthy is hard enough for anyone to desire to run away. But it's in those moments of retreat that I wonder who my previous friends have become? Whom have I become?

... I was just thinking today...

In the air and eyes bulging

Have you ever been afraid of something and later discovered it wasn’t that bad?

I was sitting on the couch, towel on head, enjoying “On Fire” by Switchfoot. The shower was good and hot. A stack of books lay on the floor beside my laptop on the coffee table, evidence of a final paper finished Monday. Boots walked by, as usual. Only this time Boots caught a glimpse of something out of the corner of his eye. I still have no idea what he thought he saw, but he took off tearing in the other direction. He poked his head back around the corner, wide eyed and timid. Thinking it amusing, I moved my foot and made a noise. He jumped a foot in the air and backed up, eyes bulging. He returned an additional seven or eight times in which he jumped a bit and rigidly rocked toward and away from the books. I just let him work it out for himself. He hesitated and sneaked around the coffee table for a while. Then he built up the courage to sniffed the books.

Ten minutes later, I picked up the cat as he walked by normally. I cradled him like I usually do and he tolerated it for a few minutes. Then, he caught glimpse of the stack of books and lost all control. Four puffy scratches later and I can tell you with hands down that irrational fear is not fun!

I too am as foolish when it comes to irrational fear. Lately I have done nothing but horrify myself with marriage fears. I have replayed them over and over again in my head, thinking about them in the most exhausted moments of late hours. I, like Job, have said things in the midst of my fear and hurts that are not reflecting of God’s character. And I have built up this irrational wall of fear that has kept me from enjoying the blessing that God has provided.

Its odd how books and four puffy scratches can remind me of a lifestyle better lived in light of God’s character. But the scratches still hurt.