Thursday, February 11, 2010
As she's riding down the hydraulic powered elevator (a.k.a. slow), I'm walking down the stairs right next to it shaking my head. Not in that "I'm so ashamed to be a human" mode that sometimes creeps up on me while I'm waiting for the train, but in that "I MUST have seen that wrong, because I can't explain it" mode.
Naturally, I'm tempted to wait at the bottom of the elevator and watch further, or ask if this is a psychology experiment, or perhaps do something to mess with her... Stand in her way, take something from her and run away with the hopes tha she'll give chase (on foot), or maybe find some way to accidentally sit in her lap to get some kind of raw reaction... I decide on the first option as it has the least amount of side effects.
She pulls up to a trashcan and starts opening mail... But the way she's tearing into a box is like a well wrapped present from a secret admirer - looking forward to more than just having something, but to peering into the mind of someone else, someone unnamed, trying to decipher who the secret giver is, because presents can tell a lot about the giver. At this point I realize I may be witnessing a federal offense. It is entirely possible that this "lady" has decided the thrill of taking a package from someone's doorstep is much more enticing than, well, not taking it.
As the train going south pulls up, (not mine) she aims for it in the same effortful zero-plegic way and faces a wall. Also odd. All I can think is: "wonder if anybody else saw that"
Marta strikes again.
Friday, February 5, 2010
Thursday, February 4, 2010
"Witness the twin messages sported by young college-age men especially: a goatee, which says, "I'm kind of dangerous," and a baseball hat turned backward, which says, "But really I'm a little boy; don't require anything of me."
Needless to say, I was amused. 'Course this guy was well past college age, but chuckling I looked up from the pages in order to verify my memory... Yup. Good ol' William Wallace is sending mixed messages. I'm sure I'm biased in order to make myself seem like more of a man, but I thinking the internal monologue was leaning way toward "I'm a little boy"
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Yet another AHA moment.
Right or wrong, I’ve decided that given the choice between going through the motions of reading a daily devotion first thing in the morning, or at a time in which I can actually take it to heart, and commit my brain to what’s going on, I’d like the substance to not be lost on me simply because I couldn’t get my brain in gear. The aha moment is not that, it’s about the phrase where Jesus tells us to take up our cross daily.
So we are called to take up our cross daily and follow Him. … “whoever loses his life for [Jesus] will save it.” I have understood for a while now that this means we are to be willing to die for the sake of Christ. When given the choice between living or dying, we don’t forsake God. The meaning of the phrase take up your cross and follow is referencing the tradition of a condemned man carrying his own cross to his execution site. That makes as much sense as Teller handing bank robber the gun he needs to rob the bank.
So I’ve always convinced myself that if I were in the same position as that girl at Columbine who was asked if she believed in Christ, I would say yes. That’s daring, that’s insane, that’s… passive. AHA. That passive readiness is not taking up the cross daily, that’s more like knowing where my cross is and only revealing its location if directly inquired. I am not called to only be ready when asked. I’m called to tell. (here lies the old belief in the “silent witness”) I’m called to take the very implements that may be used to harm me into THE spiritual war zone every day. The same way that Jesus carried his cross and put his arms down willingly, I am to leave my comfort zone and share the gospel.
May God help me, because that sure doesn’t come naturally.