This was the Impatience of Jobe that I wrote for the first anniversary of 9/11.
On September 11, 2001, I was asleep at the time the first plane hit the World Trade Center. I could hear my sister's voice on my answering machine in another room telling me to turn on the television. By the urgency in her voice, I could tell something awful had happened.
On TV, I saw a split screen view of smoke billowing out of one of the towers at the World Trade Center and smoke rising from the Pentagon. I recognized both structures immediately and, without knowing details, I knew that whatever happened was horrendous and affected us all.
Ten years later, I won't sit here and wax philosophically about the state of our country - and our world. We all know that. I'd like to think I am a better person today than I was on September 11, 2001. In a lot of ways, I truly believe I am. But sometimes I worry that I have become more jaded with time and have a lot less faith. And some days I'm not really certain how to rectify that.
So as I remember that horrendous day today - my generation's "date that will live in infamy" - my prayer is that peace on Earth will truly begin within me. It's not a solution by any means. But it's a start.
ANNIVERSARY OFFERS HOPE FOR THE FUTURE
“It was a day when thousands of lives
were lost and thousands of heroes were born.’’ - CBS
anchor Dan Rather
Where do we go from here?
That’s the question many Americans were asking
themselves Wednesday while observing the first
anniversary of the terrorist attacks on American soil.
I asked that question and many others on Wednesday
and the days prior. I’ve been asking several questions
over and over since Sept. 11, 2001. Some I’ve found
answer for; others I’ve found may never be answered
because some things in life are meant to remain
questioned.
In theory, I would have rather gone to bed before
midnight on Tuesday and slept until Thursday morning.
I didn’t want to relive the excruciating feelings I
had that awful Tuesday. I’d felt the pain that seared
my heart beginning to scab and heal a bit and I didn’t
want to reopen that wound.
In reality, though, I knew I would have to face the
day. Ignoring it, I understood, wouldn’t lessen the
pain nor would it erase the facts that evil had
attacked the very fiber of our beings and belief
systems as Americans.
I hadn’t planned to watch any of the TV coverage of
the anniversary. I bought three blank video tapes and
decided to record for posterity a sampling of each of
the three major networks’ coverage at varying times
during the day, ending with NBC’s “Concert for
America.”
My plans to sleep in and get out of bed in time to
go the memorial service at the Corinth Coliseum-Civic
Center were changed when an early-morning phone call
from a good friend who simply wanted to hear my voice
on a difficult day awoke me. Little did she know,
hearing her voice helped me face the day a bit easier
as well.
Not being able to go back to sleep, I did what I
did the year before - I turned on CNN. The network was
covering the reading of the victims’ names at Ground
Zero.
I was able to keep the tears at bay until
17-year-old Marianne Keane, whose stepfather Franco
Lalama was killed in the World Trade Center, took the
podium. With a voice strong and unwavering, the teen
shared what she had read at his memorial service.
The portion of Keane’s speech that hit me hardest
was when she discussed loss. “Things, people, they
go away sooner or later,” the teen said. “You can’t
hold them any more than you can hold the moonlight.
But if they have touched you, if they are inside of
you, then they are still yours.”
Sage words from someone just embarking on
adulthood.
In preparation for this Sept. 11, our news staff
spent the prior month talking with Crossroads area
residents about their recollections of 9/11/01 and how
life had changed for them since.
My assignment was to talk with children and teens
about the anniversary. Rather than talk to them
individually, I chose to submit surveys to two groups
of students at two different schools. One simple,
common thread ran through every survey: hope.
Despite the fear, confusion, turmoil and
heartbrokenness these students have been feeling for a
year, they are hopeful about the future.
Few, if any of them, want to forget what happened
in New York City, in Washington, D.C. and in a grassy
field outside Shanksville, Penn. But they want to move
on in life with hope for a bright tomorrow even in a
world that sometimes looks bleak.
My goal for Wednesday was that as we remembered
those patriots who were sacrificed in the World Trade
Center, the Pentagon and aboard United Airlines Flight
93, I would look for the same hope that teens in
Corinth and Alcorn County Mississippi, as well as
their counterparts all over America, are looking for.
I’m ready for us to put aside our pettiness, our
selfishness and our differences, learn to love each
other for who we are and what we are going to become,
and truly become what we have given mostly lip service
to for the past year (and years prior to this one).
Let’s truly become united in honor of September 11,
2001, and in spite of those who tried to divide us. As
it’s been said by more than one person, they may have
torn down our buildings and killed our comrades, but
they certainly didn’t conquer our spirit.
I just have to believe they only increased it.
Sunday, September 11, 2011
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Shooting star offers sign of hope, peace
I wrote this several years ago in my other life as one of my weekly Impatience of Jobe columns for the Daily Corinthian. While looking for a copy of another column I wrote, I stumbled upon it tonight and thought how timely it was for how I was feeling. So I opted to share it here and as a note on my Facebook page.
Tomorrow is an unusually hard day for me. Eighteen years ago my mama died and eighteen years later, I still miss her. Hopefully I will see a sign tomorrow that will provide some peace - and hope and maybe, even, joy - for me on a day that is generally difficult ...
Signs.
From time to time, we all look for them as answers
that Someone is listening to us from above. Or simply
as hope personified in an animate object.
Different people have different signs that are
significant to them. Some are simple ones while others
tend to need the more complex signs to let them know
everything is really gonna be OK.
A rainbow, specific cloud formation or unusually
colored sunset are signs for some people that things
are going to turn around. Certain songs showing up on
a radio station play list, a bell ringing or the voice
of a friend on the other end of a phone signal peace
for others.
Still others find hope in the eyes of a baby or the
reassuring hug of a small child.
My sister and nephew rely on the feathered kind of
sign. A cardinal flying by or perched on a tree branch
speaks volumes to both of them during difficult or
confusing situations.
Whatever the method, you tend to look for these signs
in times of greatest need or distress. Or just times
when you need encouragement.
I’m no skeptic, mind you, when it comes to faith. I
just sometimes have a difficult time putting my trust
into it wholeheartedly. With this in mind, it would
come as no surprise that I don’t have a specific
object that I tend to look for as a sign of
reassurance. For me, it has to be unusual things
showing up in common places to get my attention.
Take a recent Sunday night for example.
Unable to make myself go to bed at a decent time, I
decided at around 11:30 p.m. that I needed to take the
trash outside. Some folks might think that time of
night is an unusual time to traipse outside,
sockfooted and trash bag in hand. Forcing the plastic
bag into the already stuffed receptacle, I noticed
some nearby neighbors had put up new holiday lights.
Taking a brief moment to enjoy the flickering bulbs, I
suddenly realized how brightly the natural lights were
shining in the clear, crisp sky.
Scanning the stars, I attempted to locate the few
constellations that I knew when suddenly, and without
any warning, a light streaked across the sky toward
the west.
Stunned, I held my breath for a split second. Finally
coming to my senses, I quickly made a wish. I won’t
give away the contents of my wish, just in case that
might really jinx its ability to come true, but it was
pretty much an open-ended one.
Trying to not be selfish in the midst of the season of
giving, and sensing there might not be another
shooting star pass my way anytime soon, I made sure my
wish included some of those I consider near and dear.
One part of the wish I will share, though, because it
has already come true in a sense. In the season where
the hustle and bustle tries to overtake the real
meaning of the celebration, I stood on my driveway and
wished for peace on Earth.
Granted that wish hasn’t totally come true around the
globe as wars still rage in distant lands.
But I will take that one shooting star as a sign of
the possibility of peace.
Just as the lyrics to a song I learned as a small
child goes, peace has begun with me for it has sprung
eternal within my heart. I determined that clear, calm
night that no matter how bleak things seemed around
me, I was going to look for a sign of light within the
situation and focus on that positive source.
From now on, too, I will look for those shooting stars
at unusual times to indicate the continuation of the
process of peace throughout the world. I don’t think
it’s impossible to achieve at all. Especially if we
start from within.
Tomorrow is an unusually hard day for me. Eighteen years ago my mama died and eighteen years later, I still miss her. Hopefully I will see a sign tomorrow that will provide some peace - and hope and maybe, even, joy - for me on a day that is generally difficult ...
Signs.
From time to time, we all look for them as answers
that Someone is listening to us from above. Or simply
as hope personified in an animate object.
Different people have different signs that are
significant to them. Some are simple ones while others
tend to need the more complex signs to let them know
everything is really gonna be OK.
A rainbow, specific cloud formation or unusually
colored sunset are signs for some people that things
are going to turn around. Certain songs showing up on
a radio station play list, a bell ringing or the voice
of a friend on the other end of a phone signal peace
for others.
Still others find hope in the eyes of a baby or the
reassuring hug of a small child.
My sister and nephew rely on the feathered kind of
sign. A cardinal flying by or perched on a tree branch
speaks volumes to both of them during difficult or
confusing situations.
Whatever the method, you tend to look for these signs
in times of greatest need or distress. Or just times
when you need encouragement.
I’m no skeptic, mind you, when it comes to faith. I
just sometimes have a difficult time putting my trust
into it wholeheartedly. With this in mind, it would
come as no surprise that I don’t have a specific
object that I tend to look for as a sign of
reassurance. For me, it has to be unusual things
showing up in common places to get my attention.
Take a recent Sunday night for example.
Unable to make myself go to bed at a decent time, I
decided at around 11:30 p.m. that I needed to take the
trash outside. Some folks might think that time of
night is an unusual time to traipse outside,
sockfooted and trash bag in hand. Forcing the plastic
bag into the already stuffed receptacle, I noticed
some nearby neighbors had put up new holiday lights.
Taking a brief moment to enjoy the flickering bulbs, I
suddenly realized how brightly the natural lights were
shining in the clear, crisp sky.
Scanning the stars, I attempted to locate the few
constellations that I knew when suddenly, and without
any warning, a light streaked across the sky toward
the west.
Stunned, I held my breath for a split second. Finally
coming to my senses, I quickly made a wish. I won’t
give away the contents of my wish, just in case that
might really jinx its ability to come true, but it was
pretty much an open-ended one.
Trying to not be selfish in the midst of the season of
giving, and sensing there might not be another
shooting star pass my way anytime soon, I made sure my
wish included some of those I consider near and dear.
One part of the wish I will share, though, because it
has already come true in a sense. In the season where
the hustle and bustle tries to overtake the real
meaning of the celebration, I stood on my driveway and
wished for peace on Earth.
Granted that wish hasn’t totally come true around the
globe as wars still rage in distant lands.
But I will take that one shooting star as a sign of
the possibility of peace.
Just as the lyrics to a song I learned as a small
child goes, peace has begun with me for it has sprung
eternal within my heart. I determined that clear, calm
night that no matter how bleak things seemed around
me, I was going to look for a sign of light within the
situation and focus on that positive source.
From now on, too, I will look for those shooting stars
at unusual times to indicate the continuation of the
process of peace throughout the world. I don’t think
it’s impossible to achieve at all. Especially if we
start from within.
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Saturday, September 18, 2010
Seeking real redemption
True redemption.
Humans make it hard for me to really believe in that.
Why? Well, for me – with no apologies to Frank Sinatra – I’ve had more than just a few regrets.
I’m the first to admit it. You don’t have to remind me. I’m not perfect. I do make mistakes. And, sadly, sometimes I make the same mistakes over and over again.
There have been times in my life when I’ve made decisions that I thought at the time were in the best interest for others and myself only to discover later that, well, maybe the original choice wasn’t the best one I could’ve made. Especially when involving those closest to me.
There have been times when geography, circumstances beyond my control, or just straight up life has separated me from some of the folks I’ve loved the most. Sometimes it was in my ability to keep it from happening. Other times, well, it was something I probably could have controlled. And yet it still happened.
There have been a handful of times, though, when I made a conscious decision to simply walk away. For one reason or another, through lots of soul searching on my part, I felt it was in the best interest of those involved to go for the greater good of the situation.
Intelligent people don’t do that, you’re probably sitting there thinking while reading this blog post. Smart people who find themselves in difficult situations do exactly that hoping that, in time, circumstances will become a little better and possibly your paths might cross again when they are.
Or maybe I should call it what it possibly was – a gutless move by an immature kid.
Years later, I look in the mirror and see that I’m no longer who I was. And I find it hard to live with the remorse I have about some of the decisions I made. And find it even harder to live with the fallout from them.
I honestly never knew there was an expiration dates for apologies, but I’m learning the hard way there are. I realize I can’t really expect people to welcome me back into their lives with open arms decades after I left. But I’d like to at least believe in true redemption. I’d like to see a couple of second chances. I’d like to believe lives are big enough to encompass lots of people in them.
Yes, those are very selfish sentences, but I’d like to prove that I am a much better human being today than I was a few decades ago and that trust could be regained.
Is that being too unrealistic?
In no means to I believe our friendships could ever be exactly as they once were. Honestly? I wouldn’t want them to be for had they been that ideal, I would have never felt the need to slip away in the first place.
And in all honesty, one friendship I’m seeking to repair became a victim of simply time and circumstances. I never meant for it to disappear. It’s like, well, life became busy, I thought she was still by my side and when I turned to look, I’d gone one way and she had gone another.
And I could never seem to do enough to fix it, no matter how hard I tried. I’ve found silence at every attempt. And I’ve taken the silence as a sign of rejection. Which has led me to the conclusion that possibly forgiveness IS a lot to expect.
But I can’t stop hoping and praying one day it will happen.
Life is a vapor. It’s brief and it’s, well, unsteady at best. And I’m tired of living with regrets. I can’t quit trying to make amends. I can’t give up. I realize that I probably don’t deserve a second chance, but I’m still hoping that I will be granted what I don’t deserve.
After all, isn’t that what redemption is truly all about?
Humans make it hard for me to really believe in that.
Why? Well, for me – with no apologies to Frank Sinatra – I’ve had more than just a few regrets.
I’m the first to admit it. You don’t have to remind me. I’m not perfect. I do make mistakes. And, sadly, sometimes I make the same mistakes over and over again.
There have been times in my life when I’ve made decisions that I thought at the time were in the best interest for others and myself only to discover later that, well, maybe the original choice wasn’t the best one I could’ve made. Especially when involving those closest to me.
There have been times when geography, circumstances beyond my control, or just straight up life has separated me from some of the folks I’ve loved the most. Sometimes it was in my ability to keep it from happening. Other times, well, it was something I probably could have controlled. And yet it still happened.
There have been a handful of times, though, when I made a conscious decision to simply walk away. For one reason or another, through lots of soul searching on my part, I felt it was in the best interest of those involved to go for the greater good of the situation.
Intelligent people don’t do that, you’re probably sitting there thinking while reading this blog post. Smart people who find themselves in difficult situations do exactly that hoping that, in time, circumstances will become a little better and possibly your paths might cross again when they are.
Or maybe I should call it what it possibly was – a gutless move by an immature kid.
Years later, I look in the mirror and see that I’m no longer who I was. And I find it hard to live with the remorse I have about some of the decisions I made. And find it even harder to live with the fallout from them.
I honestly never knew there was an expiration dates for apologies, but I’m learning the hard way there are. I realize I can’t really expect people to welcome me back into their lives with open arms decades after I left. But I’d like to at least believe in true redemption. I’d like to see a couple of second chances. I’d like to believe lives are big enough to encompass lots of people in them.
Yes, those are very selfish sentences, but I’d like to prove that I am a much better human being today than I was a few decades ago and that trust could be regained.
Is that being too unrealistic?
In no means to I believe our friendships could ever be exactly as they once were. Honestly? I wouldn’t want them to be for had they been that ideal, I would have never felt the need to slip away in the first place.
And in all honesty, one friendship I’m seeking to repair became a victim of simply time and circumstances. I never meant for it to disappear. It’s like, well, life became busy, I thought she was still by my side and when I turned to look, I’d gone one way and she had gone another.
And I could never seem to do enough to fix it, no matter how hard I tried. I’ve found silence at every attempt. And I’ve taken the silence as a sign of rejection. Which has led me to the conclusion that possibly forgiveness IS a lot to expect.
But I can’t stop hoping and praying one day it will happen.
Life is a vapor. It’s brief and it’s, well, unsteady at best. And I’m tired of living with regrets. I can’t quit trying to make amends. I can’t give up. I realize that I probably don’t deserve a second chance, but I’m still hoping that I will be granted what I don’t deserve.
After all, isn’t that what redemption is truly all about?
Sunday, August 22, 2010
"What we got here is a failure to communicate ..."
Voices. They’re distinct.
Many people in my life I can recognize purely by their voice. Although I’ve not heard my mama’s voice since December 13, 1992, I still remember how it sounds. That’s comforting at the times when I miss her most.
With other family members and close friends, I can hear their voices and I know who each one is without even seeing their faces. Even some of my newer friends like Robbie and Misty.
Voice recognition is just another way of identifying people. There are even times when you can recognize people you don’t even know just by hearing their voices. Take James Earl Jones and Morgan Freeman for example. I don’t know either one of them – although I had a brief encounter with Mr. Freeman on the Oxford Square several years ago – yet I can recognize their voices in the many voice-overs they do for commercials and documentaries. They begin to speak and I instantly know it’s them.
I find it really funny when people call me on the phone and say, “Hey, it’s _____________!” Why do I find that funny? Well, #1, if they call my cell phone, I know who is on the other end of the phone before I answer it. Odds are, if I answer it at all they should feel fairly special because I often use the caller ID as a filter of sorts to determine whether or not I even answer the phone to start with.
But that’s another blog post within itself, I guess.
The other thing that makes me laugh when they say, “Hey, this is __________!” is simply, well, I know their voice. I’ve heard it enough that I’d recognize it at “hello.”
I have friends who our main source of communication is text messaging. It’s a decent way to “talk” – it’s instant and you can choose when it’s convenient for you to respond (although I try to respond ASAP because I can sometimes forget someone even sent a text).
Text messaging is often limiting, though. It’s really hard to put emotions in those little characters even using LOL or JK and such. When reading texts from someone one, you truly can’t get inflections in voices or even sarcasm (unless you really know the person writing the text message). Sometimes people totally misunderstand the intent of the emotion behind most text messages and can either get their feelings hurt or become really angry by something typed in a text.
For the most part, I’m quite content to communicate via texts. But there are times, I admit, when I simply need to hear certain people’s voices. Some of them I’ve gotten to understand that need; others still don’t quite “get” it. I can read encouragement, but there are times when I honestly need to hear some folks say, “You can do this!” “You can make it!” or “Hey, this won’t last forever!” Even “I can’t do much from here, but I really do care” translates really well in my heart when I actually hear someone physically say it.
I really appreciate it when some of my friends randomly text me and write “I love you, Kim Jobe” in the text, but there are times when I need to hear the people I care most about in this world actually tell me that.
And sometimes there are just those rare times when I just need to hear certain people talk. I don’t think it’s a lot to ask from a friend.
Tusha has been my friend since we were children. She is one of my most consistent friends – we have been so close for so long that she is truly more like family to me than a friend, to be quite honest. We started out as pen pals and wrote letters fairly faithfully through our early 20s. We have also spent quite a bit of time talking on the phone and I have visited her in New York three times. We, too, have adapted with technology and we often send emails to one another. To be honest, though, she is one of the few people I will sit down and actually pen a letter to because it’s that important to me.
Although we try not to do so, there have been times over the past 35 years (yes, we have been friends that long!) when we haven’t kept in touch as closely as we should. She is a second grade teacher, is married and has two young and very active children who enjoy dance, cheerleading and various sports. Spare time is a rarity with her. And I understand that. There have been a couple of times recently when I have sent her emails concerned about the distance between us.
A few weeks ago she called and we got the chance to talk almost uninterrupted for half an hour. It was during that conversation that we decided we were going to make a more concerted effort to communicate more often. We are going to take turns calling one another about every six weeks – if for no other reason than to check in for five minutes or so and hear one another’s voice.
It’s that important to the both of us.
Time is a high-dollar commodity. I’m going to quit wasting so much of mine and start investing it.
Good intentions are not a valid argument when friendships drift away. Life is busy, true, but we make time for things that aren’t even as close in importance as the people we hold near and dear. I plan to quit saying I’m going to get better about communication and simply put my good intentions where my mouth is – and either call the folks I love from time to time or at least send them a card to let them know I’m thinking of them.
I have a feeling it will be something that will not only bless the lives of others, but will bless mine in return.
Many people in my life I can recognize purely by their voice. Although I’ve not heard my mama’s voice since December 13, 1992, I still remember how it sounds. That’s comforting at the times when I miss her most.
With other family members and close friends, I can hear their voices and I know who each one is without even seeing their faces. Even some of my newer friends like Robbie and Misty.
Voice recognition is just another way of identifying people. There are even times when you can recognize people you don’t even know just by hearing their voices. Take James Earl Jones and Morgan Freeman for example. I don’t know either one of them – although I had a brief encounter with Mr. Freeman on the Oxford Square several years ago – yet I can recognize their voices in the many voice-overs they do for commercials and documentaries. They begin to speak and I instantly know it’s them.
I find it really funny when people call me on the phone and say, “Hey, it’s _____________!” Why do I find that funny? Well, #1, if they call my cell phone, I know who is on the other end of the phone before I answer it. Odds are, if I answer it at all they should feel fairly special because I often use the caller ID as a filter of sorts to determine whether or not I even answer the phone to start with.
But that’s another blog post within itself, I guess.
The other thing that makes me laugh when they say, “Hey, this is __________!” is simply, well, I know their voice. I’ve heard it enough that I’d recognize it at “hello.”
I have friends who our main source of communication is text messaging. It’s a decent way to “talk” – it’s instant and you can choose when it’s convenient for you to respond (although I try to respond ASAP because I can sometimes forget someone even sent a text).
Text messaging is often limiting, though. It’s really hard to put emotions in those little characters even using LOL or JK and such. When reading texts from someone one, you truly can’t get inflections in voices or even sarcasm (unless you really know the person writing the text message). Sometimes people totally misunderstand the intent of the emotion behind most text messages and can either get their feelings hurt or become really angry by something typed in a text.
For the most part, I’m quite content to communicate via texts. But there are times, I admit, when I simply need to hear certain people’s voices. Some of them I’ve gotten to understand that need; others still don’t quite “get” it. I can read encouragement, but there are times when I honestly need to hear some folks say, “You can do this!” “You can make it!” or “Hey, this won’t last forever!” Even “I can’t do much from here, but I really do care” translates really well in my heart when I actually hear someone physically say it.
I really appreciate it when some of my friends randomly text me and write “I love you, Kim Jobe” in the text, but there are times when I need to hear the people I care most about in this world actually tell me that.
And sometimes there are just those rare times when I just need to hear certain people talk. I don’t think it’s a lot to ask from a friend.
Tusha has been my friend since we were children. She is one of my most consistent friends – we have been so close for so long that she is truly more like family to me than a friend, to be quite honest. We started out as pen pals and wrote letters fairly faithfully through our early 20s. We have also spent quite a bit of time talking on the phone and I have visited her in New York three times. We, too, have adapted with technology and we often send emails to one another. To be honest, though, she is one of the few people I will sit down and actually pen a letter to because it’s that important to me.
Although we try not to do so, there have been times over the past 35 years (yes, we have been friends that long!) when we haven’t kept in touch as closely as we should. She is a second grade teacher, is married and has two young and very active children who enjoy dance, cheerleading and various sports. Spare time is a rarity with her. And I understand that. There have been a couple of times recently when I have sent her emails concerned about the distance between us.
A few weeks ago she called and we got the chance to talk almost uninterrupted for half an hour. It was during that conversation that we decided we were going to make a more concerted effort to communicate more often. We are going to take turns calling one another about every six weeks – if for no other reason than to check in for five minutes or so and hear one another’s voice.
It’s that important to the both of us.
Time is a high-dollar commodity. I’m going to quit wasting so much of mine and start investing it.
Good intentions are not a valid argument when friendships drift away. Life is busy, true, but we make time for things that aren’t even as close in importance as the people we hold near and dear. I plan to quit saying I’m going to get better about communication and simply put my good intentions where my mouth is – and either call the folks I love from time to time or at least send them a card to let them know I’m thinking of them.
I have a feeling it will be something that will not only bless the lives of others, but will bless mine in return.
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
What I'm [Stealing]
“Borrowed” this from another person’s blog I read who “borrowed” it from one they read …
What I’m [reading] = Fearless – Max Lucado
What I’m [also reading] = Crazy Love – Francis Chan and one of the 25 or so ghost and folklore books I bought from Spice of Life’s going out of business sale. I normally collect them as souvenirs when I travel various places in the U.S., but I just couldn’t pass these bargains up!
What I’m [eating] = Every single thing in my sight, sadly! I’ve got to exercise more and eat better! UGH!! Currently, I’m waiting on breakfast so I can have a little pb/banana action today (even though one of my bananas looks like it has a black eye).
What I’m [hearing] = Right now? “Love Has Come” and “Your Love is a Song” on WRBQHD2 on iTunes radio. Normally I listen to Xmusiconline.com, but it seemed redundant today so I switched to this station from Tampa (I wouldn’t mind being in Tampa right now listening to some awesome Paula White preaching, to be honest!!)
What I’m [writing] = At work? Copy for the website which includes feature stories on new administrators and such. On a personal level, not much to be honest (and I should be writing more; I’m … hold it, hold it, you’re gonna be shocked by this admission … LAZY right now. Wishing I were doing more to feel more inspired, really).
What I’m [missing] = Hmmmmm … this could be a long list. Wish it stated what I’m NOT missing; that might be easier to compile and keep me out of some trouble, too. In a condensed version, I’m missing my friends Michelle and Janet – I wish we could all be in one place hanging out for about a week or six. ☺ I’m missing my Emmaus Walk #59 Team and Pilgrims – what a blessed weekend we had and I miss sharing the glow and love and praise and worship with all them.
What I’m [loving] = My life to a certain degree. Granted, it’s not as complete as I’d like it to be. I’m still looking for that special person to totally share it with and say “I do,” too. I truly believe he exists; He just hasn’t perfected the timing yet. I’m loving my job very much. I have some of the best co-workers (who have become some of the best friends and truest friends ever) and know some of the best kids in the world.
What I’m [googling] = Honestly? Wide width walking shoes. My friend, Robyn, wants me to walk with her and I NEED to walk (my diabetes NEEDS me to walk) but I have no comfortable shoes for this process. So I’m trying to find some. And definitions of certain phrases I’ve been hearing that I want to expound on as posts for my blogs. I’m working on two different posts right now – maybe three – thanks to Toy Story 3 and the recent CHS Band reunion!
What I’m [watching] = Way too much instant viewing stuff on Netflix! LOL Although it took me several weeks to view the DVD I had from them at home, I’ve managed to sort through the 200+ titles I have in my instant que and have watched quite a few movies and complete TV series on there. I was hooked on Hulu, but I think Netflix has a better lineup. Last night, though, I started a “Fearless” series on Lifechurch.tv. Pastor John got me hooked on Craig Groeschel several months ago, and I’m enjoying his messages so much.
What I’m [surprised about] = Well, not that my friends, Webb and Bubba, are getting married. I knew that was bound to happen eventually and I’m ecstatic. I was surprised about the flowers that the Dorans sent me earlier today. They’re gorgeous. I was pleasantly surprised how many people showed up at the CHS Band reunion last Saturday night! I was afraid folks just wouldn’t turn out, but I guess I forgot that they love Mr. E and Mr. Smith as much as I do.
What I’m [wondering] = How much longer this feeling of living in a state of limbo will prevail?!?! I know without a doubt that God has a plan for my life and He keeps telling me over and over again that it will be worth the wait. I just, well, sometimes get weary waiting. I’m trying to remember that wait is definitely an active verb and I’m not just being idle about it all. But there are still some areas of my life that I truly believe need some action and it’s getting really frustrating waiting for that to happen.
What I’m [reading] = Fearless – Max Lucado
What I’m [also reading] = Crazy Love – Francis Chan and one of the 25 or so ghost and folklore books I bought from Spice of Life’s going out of business sale. I normally collect them as souvenirs when I travel various places in the U.S., but I just couldn’t pass these bargains up!
What I’m [eating] = Every single thing in my sight, sadly! I’ve got to exercise more and eat better! UGH!! Currently, I’m waiting on breakfast so I can have a little pb/banana action today (even though one of my bananas looks like it has a black eye).
What I’m [hearing] = Right now? “Love Has Come” and “Your Love is a Song” on WRBQHD2 on iTunes radio. Normally I listen to Xmusiconline.com, but it seemed redundant today so I switched to this station from Tampa (I wouldn’t mind being in Tampa right now listening to some awesome Paula White preaching, to be honest!!)
What I’m [writing] = At work? Copy for the website which includes feature stories on new administrators and such. On a personal level, not much to be honest (and I should be writing more; I’m … hold it, hold it, you’re gonna be shocked by this admission … LAZY right now. Wishing I were doing more to feel more inspired, really).
What I’m [missing] = Hmmmmm … this could be a long list. Wish it stated what I’m NOT missing; that might be easier to compile and keep me out of some trouble, too. In a condensed version, I’m missing my friends Michelle and Janet – I wish we could all be in one place hanging out for about a week or six. ☺ I’m missing my Emmaus Walk #59 Team and Pilgrims – what a blessed weekend we had and I miss sharing the glow and love and praise and worship with all them.
What I’m [loving] = My life to a certain degree. Granted, it’s not as complete as I’d like it to be. I’m still looking for that special person to totally share it with and say “I do,” too. I truly believe he exists; He just hasn’t perfected the timing yet. I’m loving my job very much. I have some of the best co-workers (who have become some of the best friends and truest friends ever) and know some of the best kids in the world.
What I’m [googling] = Honestly? Wide width walking shoes. My friend, Robyn, wants me to walk with her and I NEED to walk (my diabetes NEEDS me to walk) but I have no comfortable shoes for this process. So I’m trying to find some. And definitions of certain phrases I’ve been hearing that I want to expound on as posts for my blogs. I’m working on two different posts right now – maybe three – thanks to Toy Story 3 and the recent CHS Band reunion!
What I’m [watching] = Way too much instant viewing stuff on Netflix! LOL Although it took me several weeks to view the DVD I had from them at home, I’ve managed to sort through the 200+ titles I have in my instant que and have watched quite a few movies and complete TV series on there. I was hooked on Hulu, but I think Netflix has a better lineup. Last night, though, I started a “Fearless” series on Lifechurch.tv. Pastor John got me hooked on Craig Groeschel several months ago, and I’m enjoying his messages so much.
What I’m [surprised about] = Well, not that my friends, Webb and Bubba, are getting married. I knew that was bound to happen eventually and I’m ecstatic. I was surprised about the flowers that the Dorans sent me earlier today. They’re gorgeous. I was pleasantly surprised how many people showed up at the CHS Band reunion last Saturday night! I was afraid folks just wouldn’t turn out, but I guess I forgot that they love Mr. E and Mr. Smith as much as I do.
What I’m [wondering] = How much longer this feeling of living in a state of limbo will prevail?!?! I know without a doubt that God has a plan for my life and He keeps telling me over and over again that it will be worth the wait. I just, well, sometimes get weary waiting. I’m trying to remember that wait is definitely an active verb and I’m not just being idle about it all. But there are still some areas of my life that I truly believe need some action and it’s getting really frustrating waiting for that to happen.
Thursday, July 15, 2010
Who is He to you?
Matthew 16 (The Message)
13 When Jesus arrived in the villages of Caesarea Philippi, he asked his disciples,
"What are people saying about who the Son of Man is?"
14 They replied, "Some think he is John the Baptizer, some say Elijah, some Jeremiah
or one of the other prophets."
15 He pressed them, "And how about you? Who do you say I am?"
16 Simon Peter said, "You're the Christ, the Messiah, the Son of the living God."
17-18 Jesus came back, "God bless you, Simon, son of Jonah! You didn't get that answer out of books or from teachers. My Father in heaven, God himself, let you in on this secret of who I really am. And now I'm going to tell you who you are, really are. You are Peter, a rock. This is the rock on which I will put together my church,
a church so expansive with energy that not even the gates of hell will be able to keep it out.
19"And that's not all. You will have complete and free access to God's kingdom, keys to open any and every door: no more barriers between heaven and earth, earth and heaven. A yes on earth is yes in heaven. A no on earth is no in heaven."
Who is He to you?
That question was posed at the end of a powerful video I ran across on a website recently. The video contained several people from obviously different backgrounds in life eloquently describing who God was to them.
Some of their answers included:
* a consuming fire
* light and big
* infinite
* eternal hope
* my redeemer and my sustainer in trouble
* light that pierces darkness
* the rim on every cloud
* unchanging
* He is love and He loves me
* He is indescribable and yet He loves me
Honestly, I had to watch the video twice to allow it to all sink in. And watching it brought to mind the passages in the gospels where Jesus asked his disciples a similar question.
For some reason, the version in Matthew is the one I chose to look up this morning. And to be honest, this passage of scripture frustrates me whenever I read it. You will probably find my explanation of that statement very funny, but read on nonetheless.
I can’t imagine what it must have been like for those 12 men to have been hand-picked by Jesus to follow that closely with Him and serve His ministry. I wonder how much they really thought about what they were doing during the process or if they were just following out of faith. That is not really explained within the texts.
What frustrates me about Matthew 16, though, is Jesus posed this question and they obviously gave the correct answers. They answered the question directly, but the answers lack, well, eloquence. It’s as if I wanted them to suddenly become poets and offer words of fluent and beautiful alliteration. It was their moment to shine - and they were more dully straight forward.
This morning it hit me, though. These men most likely didn’t have the vocabulary to offer flowery speech. Many of them were laborers or simple fishermen. I’m not picking on them and I’m certainly not saying they’re ignorant, but how many times have you watched “Deadliest Catch” on the Discovery Channel and heard any of those guys spout
prose?
The other thing I’ve missed in the other times I’ve read these verses is: this transpired early in Jesus’ ministry. Although they had witnessed some of the miracles of Jesus and had an inkling into what He was capable of doing, they hadn’t really gotten a grasp of exactly how Jesus was going to literally transform the world as they knew it in that time and all of the eons to come.
They hadn’t “arrived” yet.
Nor have I.
Although I have known about God for more than 40 years, I have only recently begun to truly know who He is and what He is capable of doing. Had I been asked that question 20 years ago or even as soon as a decade ago, my answers would have been vastly simple compared to what I would reply today.
Who is He to me?
Maybe I shouldn’t be so frustrated with that passage of scripture after all. I can come up with some fluid, beautiful and poignant adjectives to describe God and His infinite roles in my life. But I’d like to believe, despite the times I waffle in my faith and despite the times I fail to honor Him and serve Him as consistently and deeply as I should, that my answer would come down to two simple words: my all.
13 When Jesus arrived in the villages of Caesarea Philippi, he asked his disciples,
"What are people saying about who the Son of Man is?"
14 They replied, "Some think he is John the Baptizer, some say Elijah, some Jeremiah
or one of the other prophets."
15 He pressed them, "And how about you? Who do you say I am?"
16 Simon Peter said, "You're the Christ, the Messiah, the Son of the living God."
17-18 Jesus came back, "God bless you, Simon, son of Jonah! You didn't get that answer out of books or from teachers. My Father in heaven, God himself, let you in on this secret of who I really am. And now I'm going to tell you who you are, really are. You are Peter, a rock. This is the rock on which I will put together my church,
a church so expansive with energy that not even the gates of hell will be able to keep it out.
19"And that's not all. You will have complete and free access to God's kingdom, keys to open any and every door: no more barriers between heaven and earth, earth and heaven. A yes on earth is yes in heaven. A no on earth is no in heaven."
Who is He to you?
That question was posed at the end of a powerful video I ran across on a website recently. The video contained several people from obviously different backgrounds in life eloquently describing who God was to them.
Some of their answers included:
* a consuming fire
* light and big
* infinite
* eternal hope
* my redeemer and my sustainer in trouble
* light that pierces darkness
* the rim on every cloud
* unchanging
* He is love and He loves me
* He is indescribable and yet He loves me
Honestly, I had to watch the video twice to allow it to all sink in. And watching it brought to mind the passages in the gospels where Jesus asked his disciples a similar question.
For some reason, the version in Matthew is the one I chose to look up this morning. And to be honest, this passage of scripture frustrates me whenever I read it. You will probably find my explanation of that statement very funny, but read on nonetheless.
I can’t imagine what it must have been like for those 12 men to have been hand-picked by Jesus to follow that closely with Him and serve His ministry. I wonder how much they really thought about what they were doing during the process or if they were just following out of faith. That is not really explained within the texts.
What frustrates me about Matthew 16, though, is Jesus posed this question and they obviously gave the correct answers. They answered the question directly, but the answers lack, well, eloquence. It’s as if I wanted them to suddenly become poets and offer words of fluent and beautiful alliteration. It was their moment to shine - and they were more dully straight forward.
This morning it hit me, though. These men most likely didn’t have the vocabulary to offer flowery speech. Many of them were laborers or simple fishermen. I’m not picking on them and I’m certainly not saying they’re ignorant, but how many times have you watched “Deadliest Catch” on the Discovery Channel and heard any of those guys spout
prose?
The other thing I’ve missed in the other times I’ve read these verses is: this transpired early in Jesus’ ministry. Although they had witnessed some of the miracles of Jesus and had an inkling into what He was capable of doing, they hadn’t really gotten a grasp of exactly how Jesus was going to literally transform the world as they knew it in that time and all of the eons to come.
They hadn’t “arrived” yet.
Nor have I.
Although I have known about God for more than 40 years, I have only recently begun to truly know who He is and what He is capable of doing. Had I been asked that question 20 years ago or even as soon as a decade ago, my answers would have been vastly simple compared to what I would reply today.
Who is He to me?
Maybe I shouldn’t be so frustrated with that passage of scripture after all. I can come up with some fluid, beautiful and poignant adjectives to describe God and His infinite roles in my life. But I’d like to believe, despite the times I waffle in my faith and despite the times I fail to honor Him and serve Him as consistently and deeply as I should, that my answer would come down to two simple words: my all.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)