The title is a sideways allusion to a Demetri Martin joke about the most intelligent thing said that was prefaced by the word, "dude." Some examples include, "Dude, those are isotopes," and "Dude, we removed your kidney. You're gonna be fine." The latter, strangely, does not sound intelligent so much as terrifying.
The context is that I went to the doctor about my crazy skin rash today and he said it's probably erythemia multiforme, an allergic reaction to my beloved fungus. Sounds pretty cool, said I. Here, however, I feel that it is necessary to quote Chesterton: "...A moment's thought will show that if a disease is beautiful, it is generally someone else's disease. A blind man may be picturesque; but it requires two eyes to see the picture." Anyway, because my disease sounded interesting, I came home and googled it.
GUESS WHAT! If I start getting lesions in my mouth, feel feverish, have joint pain, or get red eyes, I could potentially die from this rash. Holy jalapenos! That's still pretty cool. And you can bet that I felt warmer just at the thought and started poking at that canker sore on the inside of my mouth with an inkling of dread... The major form of erythemia multiforme is called Steven Johnson Syndrome and it's a severe allergic reaction to medication that causes the skin to become necrotized (to decay, for the non-medical) and fall off. If I weren't mildly freaked out by the thought, I'd be fascinated to experience it.
I'm rather comforted by the thought that it's probably not an allergic reaction to medication because Lamisil does not fall under the causative agents category, and the expired ibuprofen I accidentally took last week was taken because of the flu-like symptoms, not before them. Sooo... I probably won't die. But this is the closest brush with death that I've ever had, medically speaking. Let's not talk about driving because that's a whole 'nother story.
Unfortunately, I am taking prednisone, antihistamines, and then Lamisil on the fungus. That is way too much medication for one person. I will never be old. That's all.
Post-Note Aside: The most entertaining thing about all of this, to me, is that as I was doing my personal rash research in a desperate attempt to avoid all things doctor-like, I read something that mentioned "the dreaded Steven Johnson Syndrome." It sounded so horrifying when put in those terms that I heaved a mental sigh of relief (having no idea what it actually was) when Dr. Conley said some random Latin gibberish. Oh, irony, you make a great friend and a worse enemy as Oedipus found out to his dismay.
27.5.10
A Day In The Life...
Meet Bill. Bill does not have leprosy. I apparently have heat rash, and Bill happens to be visiting the back of my right hand at present. He has three eyes because he is an alien, but don't worry: he's a very friendly alien. And he is NOT a pervert, no matter what Brandon says. Brandon doesn't count in the world of worthwhile opinions. Anyway. Bill. Right.
Bill had the opportunity to pull a shot today.
First, he removed the porta-filter from the filter head.
He tapped the old grounds out and carefully cleaned the porta-filter, washing out the filter head at the same time.
Next, he ground the espresso and filled the porta-filter with a generous heap.
After tapping the side to help the grounds settle a bit, he swept the excess from the heap, leaving a beautiful and level surface.
Bill had the opportunity to pull a shot today.
First, he removed the porta-filter from the filter head.
He tapped the old grounds out and carefully cleaned the porta-filter, washing out the filter head at the same time.
Next, he ground the espresso and filled the porta-filter with a generous heap.
After tapping the side to help the grounds settle a bit, he swept the excess from the heap, leaving a beautiful and level surface.
Then he tamped the grounds into a firm puck, using exactly 30 pounds of pressure and finishing it off with a twirl to smooth any loose grains on top.
After twisting the porta-filter back into the filter head, he pushed the button for the water and breathlessly awaited the stream of espresso. Would it be the perfect 27-second shot?
A steady, golden stream issued downward into the espresso pitcher... It looked good, but was it better than good? Was it perfect?
A steady, golden stream issued downward into the espresso pitcher... It looked good, but was it better than good? Was it perfect?
As the last drops fell and he glanced at the timer, Bill realized that he didn't know whether it was perfect or not because he hadn't seen the start time! Oh well. It looked good and would probably taste even better.
Bill wrapped himself around a latte mug that had been gently warmed from the top of the espresso machine, sighing a happy sigh of satisfaction. He had accomplished much and it was time to enjoy the fruit of his labor.
25.5.10
Reasons Why...
...I love Lancaster.
- Market: I just bought tomatoes, avocados, strawberry yogurt, cilantro, spinach, Ric's fresh 14-grain bread, and provolone, plus a really good smoothie, all that for about $20 total. And I love the market vibe, all the local vendors, the bustle of people, the friendly rapport between seller and buyer, the wild mix of scents from places like The Herb Shop and the Thai stand, the underlying spirit of support for local business and good food... I even know a few of the stand-folk, like Christi and Sarah (and once upon a time, Fernando), or recognize others because they come into the cafe. No matter who someone is, they're always quick to respond to a smile.
- Work: Not always easy, not always fun, but generally rewarding and enjoyable. I can't see myself working in a cafe for the rest of my life, and yet I think that at this point in my life, God has placed me there for a reason. I am stretched regularly in interactions with customers as I learn more about selflessness, I am learning the meaning of excellence, and I am always finding new areas for growth. My co-workers provide an interesting mix of sisters in Christ who have been an amazing support as I've struggled through my first weeks back home and good friends who are either actively anti-God or have strayed from their roots and are now indifferent. My boss can be stern when necessary, but she is also warm and quick to praise, so that a reprimand is actually felt. I knew it when I first got the job and walked up Prince Street smiling at passersby like a raving lunatic, but (like couples who grow into a deeper understanding of love) I know it more fully now than I did then: I am so blessed to work at Prince Street Cafe.
- Springtime on Gallery Row/Episcopal Church at Mulberry & Chestnut: As I walked up the street today, I was struck by how gorgeous all of the brick and art was, the sun shining down on the lazily swaying branches of the trees that line that part of the street. There was Christiane David with the enormous, Georgia O'Keefe-esque poppy in the window, Cityfolk with a unique wall-hanging that caught my eye, the gallery that replaced the former, funky Metropolis...
- People: Maybe it was just market day, maybe I was just particularly enthusiastic, maybe I've just been overly influenced by Southerners and I can't pass someone without meeting his/her eyes, but I swear I got more smiles out of people than usual. And that's not true of everywhere in the county... Last night, while I was waiting for my veggie sub at Sheetz I was looking around at all of the people, and none of them were smiling, from the grim, sad-eyed cashier to the lady with the inverted hair cut who was probably just buying gas on her way home from work. A smile makes or breaks a moment. Even in the midst of grief, one may still smile, though the corners of his mouth are weighted with the solemnity of the moment. It is only the distracted, the downtrodden, the fiercely self-absorbed, the truly pessimistic people who will not or cannot smile. And even they can be pulled from their dingy world of dusk by the summoning of another's light.
- And it goes on... From the beckoning allure of the Winding Way Bookshop (I still haven't made it inside, but every time I pass I swear it is calling my name) to the cool beauty of the shade-lined streets to the sweet strains of a violinist playing to the world by the Market and Grant Street entrance to the sound of a friend calling my name... That's my Lancaster.
20.5.10
Passion and Pursuit
This evening was just amazing. I won't say this day, because I just found out that my grandfather has cancer and a few other ailments, but this evening definitely trumps a lot of existence. There are really two reasons for that. First, I got to see what Christian community looks like outside of IMPACT, and second, in order to get to the place where I was able to see that, I had to put some of the growth I experienced there into action.
The story:
Last Friday evening, Hadassah and Lia prayed for me while we were at work because I was having an obviously lousy evening. It was wonderful of them and I needed it. More to the point, Hadassah asked me whether I was connected to a Christian body here in Lancaster, and I mentioned that I had actually made that a goal for my summer. She directed me to a small group at Corey and Carrie's that meets on Thursday evenings. I went to church on Sunday at Threshold, got to talk with Vonni and Sara, as well as meeting Sara's friend Audrey. And I was really psyched to get my schedule for this week because somehow my 55 hours did not include Thursday evening (although I still didn't end up working my ten hours today... sickness = bleh). Everything in place, definitely able to go, and it's 5:30 tonight and I have no idea where Corey and Carrie live or what time the group actually meets. Oops.
I text Hadassah and Maria. Neither of them know. But Hadassah gave me Corey's cell phone number. Okay, pause here, and learn something about me: I loathe calling people I do not know. And honestly, I've sort of hung out with Corey because he presided over Maria and Nathan's wedding, plus he's at the cafe sometimes, but I'm a little intimidated by him AND he's a pastor which means he probably is already really busy without having some nitwit call him to ask for his address when said nitwit knows that he's not even going to be at the small group tonight.
But as I held my cell phone in one hand and the paper with his number on it in the other and waffled dramatically, I had a wee bit of a revelation. God really has hand-delivered some things to me over the course of the past two weeks, things that I was intent on seeking out and suddenly found the opportunities right in my hands. The possibility of attending this group was one of those things. But He won't do everything for me.
I always hated that phrase, "God helps those who help themselves," mostly because I already struggle with being too independent and heaven knows I don't need any encouragement. And I still dislike it, but it's approximately what I mean in a twisty, opposite-ish kind of a way. It is as if He said to me, "Look Christy, here's the opportunity you were asking for, but instead of waiting for me to pick it for you and place it in your hands, I want you to reach out and take it."
And so it was that with a sick feeling in my gut that was more nerves than the plague that tried to strike me down yesterday, I side-stepped that loathing and called Corey and got the address and made my way to Lancaster. Hurray! That's the growth from IMPACT, where before I know without a shadow of a doubt that I would have excused and waffled my way right out of going. But some things are more important.
The Story, Part 2:
We've finally made it to small group. I am so psyched to be there and meet tons of new people! Um, no. But it wasn't too painful, except that Ben was late so I got to hang out with two guys on the porch for fifteen minutes. Eh, awkward, yes, terrible, no. But then instead of the usual format of study, he said that we were going to take a field trip. First, we were going to the Lancaster County Park to find a fire pit where we would burn areas in which we have been disappointed by God or fears that we might have. Then, we would drive to the home of Audrey's brother and sister-in-law to pray for their baby. I was cool with the burning things idea, but praying with people that I had just met for people I had never met was a little daunting.
Long story short, at the other end of the evening, I am so excited to see how God can use people and the kind of passion that He has put in their hearts. It's not that I really believed that IMPACT had a monopoly on spirituality, but I guess part of me was afraid that I had left what little courage I had in that area back there and at the same time feared that I would never be able to find a community that was similarly able to foster that gradual growth.
Now if God could help me with unpacking my boxes too, that would be just awesome...
Oh! And I think my car might be fixed. I'll find out tomorrow morning when I start it, but until then, there is hope :)
The story:
Last Friday evening, Hadassah and Lia prayed for me while we were at work because I was having an obviously lousy evening. It was wonderful of them and I needed it. More to the point, Hadassah asked me whether I was connected to a Christian body here in Lancaster, and I mentioned that I had actually made that a goal for my summer. She directed me to a small group at Corey and Carrie's that meets on Thursday evenings. I went to church on Sunday at Threshold, got to talk with Vonni and Sara, as well as meeting Sara's friend Audrey. And I was really psyched to get my schedule for this week because somehow my 55 hours did not include Thursday evening (although I still didn't end up working my ten hours today... sickness = bleh). Everything in place, definitely able to go, and it's 5:30 tonight and I have no idea where Corey and Carrie live or what time the group actually meets. Oops.
I text Hadassah and Maria. Neither of them know. But Hadassah gave me Corey's cell phone number. Okay, pause here, and learn something about me: I loathe calling people I do not know. And honestly, I've sort of hung out with Corey because he presided over Maria and Nathan's wedding, plus he's at the cafe sometimes, but I'm a little intimidated by him AND he's a pastor which means he probably is already really busy without having some nitwit call him to ask for his address when said nitwit knows that he's not even going to be at the small group tonight.
But as I held my cell phone in one hand and the paper with his number on it in the other and waffled dramatically, I had a wee bit of a revelation. God really has hand-delivered some things to me over the course of the past two weeks, things that I was intent on seeking out and suddenly found the opportunities right in my hands. The possibility of attending this group was one of those things. But He won't do everything for me.
I always hated that phrase, "God helps those who help themselves," mostly because I already struggle with being too independent and heaven knows I don't need any encouragement. And I still dislike it, but it's approximately what I mean in a twisty, opposite-ish kind of a way. It is as if He said to me, "Look Christy, here's the opportunity you were asking for, but instead of waiting for me to pick it for you and place it in your hands, I want you to reach out and take it."
And so it was that with a sick feeling in my gut that was more nerves than the plague that tried to strike me down yesterday, I side-stepped that loathing and called Corey and got the address and made my way to Lancaster. Hurray! That's the growth from IMPACT, where before I know without a shadow of a doubt that I would have excused and waffled my way right out of going. But some things are more important.
The Story, Part 2:
We've finally made it to small group. I am so psyched to be there and meet tons of new people! Um, no. But it wasn't too painful, except that Ben was late so I got to hang out with two guys on the porch for fifteen minutes. Eh, awkward, yes, terrible, no. But then instead of the usual format of study, he said that we were going to take a field trip. First, we were going to the Lancaster County Park to find a fire pit where we would burn areas in which we have been disappointed by God or fears that we might have. Then, we would drive to the home of Audrey's brother and sister-in-law to pray for their baby. I was cool with the burning things idea, but praying with people that I had just met for people I had never met was a little daunting.
Long story short, at the other end of the evening, I am so excited to see how God can use people and the kind of passion that He has put in their hearts. It's not that I really believed that IMPACT had a monopoly on spirituality, but I guess part of me was afraid that I had left what little courage I had in that area back there and at the same time feared that I would never be able to find a community that was similarly able to foster that gradual growth.
Now if God could help me with unpacking my boxes too, that would be just awesome...
Oh! And I think my car might be fixed. I'll find out tomorrow morning when I start it, but until then, there is hope :)
Oh, decisions, decisions, decisions...
Proverbs 19:21
Many are the plans in a man's heart,
But the counsel of the Lord, it will stand.
Proverbs 20:24
Man's steps are ordained by the Lord,
How then can man understand his way?
Many are the plans in a man's heart,
But the counsel of the Lord, it will stand.
Proverbs 20:24
Man's steps are ordained by the Lord,
How then can man understand his way?
17.5.10
...
Float:
body adrift on the vast, unending sea.
Feel the wave motion
raise and lower,
lift and oh, so gently drop.
Two spheres
merge
and I, half in one world,
half in the other,
a bobbing island caught
and enraptured.
I saw the blue:
blue above, blue below,
deep, dark, the ink I'm drowning in.
Not drowning. Floating.
But lost and solitary,
alone.
15.5.10
Life Together
A joyful heart makes a cheerful face,
But when the heart is sad, the spirit is broken.
//Proverbs 15:13//
While I realize how blessed I am to have the job that I have, occasionally that point is driven home more fully than at other times. Like last night. I was near tears on the way to work just thinking about IMPACT, probably because I owned up to myself that I was in denial but would eventually have to move back into my room and unpack all of my boxes whether I want to or not. Plus, I tried to call Leah and had talked to Charles the night before, and somehow that plus the sudden plentiful nature of sleep the night before left me down.
I walked in to see the back jammed with people, a motley group composed of Debbie, Hadassah, Lia, Carl, Mandy, Bri, and Abi. The first three were rejoicing in the night crew and already feeling silly, but this one was absolutely not up for silliness. Later, when I was stocking food in the basement Hadassah and Lia jumped me and prayed for me. Hadassah also identified one of my problems: I really don't have a spiritual family here in Lancaster, and while I'm trying to find ways to pour out, I'm really lacking in people who pour into me. I told her that I wanted to get connected to a small group, but that I hadn't had a chance to pursue that yet. Apparently Corey and Carrie have one every Thursday evening at their apartment, so if I don't work that shift next week, I'll probably try to go.
"Do not be grieved, for the joy of the Lord is your strength!"
//Nehemiah 8:10b//
But when the heart is sad, the spirit is broken.
//Proverbs 15:13//
While I realize how blessed I am to have the job that I have, occasionally that point is driven home more fully than at other times. Like last night. I was near tears on the way to work just thinking about IMPACT, probably because I owned up to myself that I was in denial but would eventually have to move back into my room and unpack all of my boxes whether I want to or not. Plus, I tried to call Leah and had talked to Charles the night before, and somehow that plus the sudden plentiful nature of sleep the night before left me down.
I walked in to see the back jammed with people, a motley group composed of Debbie, Hadassah, Lia, Carl, Mandy, Bri, and Abi. The first three were rejoicing in the night crew and already feeling silly, but this one was absolutely not up for silliness. Later, when I was stocking food in the basement Hadassah and Lia jumped me and prayed for me. Hadassah also identified one of my problems: I really don't have a spiritual family here in Lancaster, and while I'm trying to find ways to pour out, I'm really lacking in people who pour into me. I told her that I wanted to get connected to a small group, but that I hadn't had a chance to pursue that yet. Apparently Corey and Carrie have one every Thursday evening at their apartment, so if I don't work that shift next week, I'll probably try to go.
"Do not be grieved, for the joy of the Lord is your strength!"
//Nehemiah 8:10b//
12.5.10
Laments and Love Songs
This day before dawn I ascended a hill and look'd at the crowded heaven,
And I said to my spirit When we become the enfolders of those orbs, and the
pleasure and knowledge of every thing in them, shall we be fill'd and
satisfied then?
And my spirit said No, we but level that lift to pass and continue beyond.
//Walt Whitman, from "Song of Myself"//
As I was washing dishes this evening (which, by the way, is a wonderful means of both thinking and doing something useful at the same time), I was thinking about the lessons that I've learned this past year. Already, several of them are coming back to haunt me, some in the applications and growth that I am showing at work and at home, but some in the way that I am continuing to learn them.
Two illustrations came to mind: one involved video games and one was from Walt Whitman. Yes, I can do diversity, thank you. Basically, the greatest lesson I have learned this year is about surrender and the process that is involved in that. As Mr. Cote once said, so much of life is ultimately following paths that keep leading us back to the altar of surrender. I think I've got it, I think I know all there is to know, and then I discover that for a while I've been wandering in a loop off to the left and suddenly the altar is right in front of me again. Maybe with time it becomes a little easier. I don't know. But I do feel a little bit like I've been playing Mario (old school, on a Nintendo 64, thank you) and finally I fight and defeat the monster in the castle at the end of the first map. A celebration ensues as I bask in the warm light of victory, then I glance at the tv screen and... what? Another map? And yes, in case you were wondering, it does get harder at the next level. But I guess I did tell God last week that I recognized the greater challenge presented and rejoiced in the growth that it suggested that He would give this to me. Besides, in my weakness, He shines stronger. And it does keep things interesting...
As for the ending of IMPACT and the beginning of something else, well, these have been some hard days. I don't quite know what to make of them, but I am reminded of where my hope lies. And Charles was right: it's not okay. Separation, especially separation from such a powerful occurrence of kingdom living, is a part of the fall. In some intrinsically awful way, it is a living death to be thus rent asunder from ones loved. As Wolterstorff says, all laments are love songs. And our eager hope is for the day when we will again love without lamentation.
Down, down, down into the darkness of the grave
Gently they go, the beautiful, the tender, the kind;
Quietly they go, the intelligent, the witty, the brave.
I know. But I do not approve. And I am not resigned.
//Edna St. Vincent Millay, from "Dirge Without Music"//
And I said to my spirit When we become the enfolders of those orbs, and the
pleasure and knowledge of every thing in them, shall we be fill'd and
satisfied then?
And my spirit said No, we but level that lift to pass and continue beyond.
//Walt Whitman, from "Song of Myself"//
As I was washing dishes this evening (which, by the way, is a wonderful means of both thinking and doing something useful at the same time), I was thinking about the lessons that I've learned this past year. Already, several of them are coming back to haunt me, some in the applications and growth that I am showing at work and at home, but some in the way that I am continuing to learn them.
Two illustrations came to mind: one involved video games and one was from Walt Whitman. Yes, I can do diversity, thank you. Basically, the greatest lesson I have learned this year is about surrender and the process that is involved in that. As Mr. Cote once said, so much of life is ultimately following paths that keep leading us back to the altar of surrender. I think I've got it, I think I know all there is to know, and then I discover that for a while I've been wandering in a loop off to the left and suddenly the altar is right in front of me again. Maybe with time it becomes a little easier. I don't know. But I do feel a little bit like I've been playing Mario (old school, on a Nintendo 64, thank you) and finally I fight and defeat the monster in the castle at the end of the first map. A celebration ensues as I bask in the warm light of victory, then I glance at the tv screen and... what? Another map? And yes, in case you were wondering, it does get harder at the next level. But I guess I did tell God last week that I recognized the greater challenge presented and rejoiced in the growth that it suggested that He would give this to me. Besides, in my weakness, He shines stronger. And it does keep things interesting...
As for the ending of IMPACT and the beginning of something else, well, these have been some hard days. I don't quite know what to make of them, but I am reminded of where my hope lies. And Charles was right: it's not okay. Separation, especially separation from such a powerful occurrence of kingdom living, is a part of the fall. In some intrinsically awful way, it is a living death to be thus rent asunder from ones loved. As Wolterstorff says, all laments are love songs. And our eager hope is for the day when we will again love without lamentation.
Down, down, down into the darkness of the grave
Gently they go, the beautiful, the tender, the kind;
Quietly they go, the intelligent, the witty, the brave.
I know. But I do not approve. And I am not resigned.
//Edna St. Vincent Millay, from "Dirge Without Music"//
4.5.10
To Dance For A King
"Fire, God of Abraham, God of Isaac, God of Jacob, not of the philosophers and scholars. Certainty. Heartfelt joy. Peace. God of Jesus Christ. Joy, joy, joy, oceans of joy."
//Blaise Pascal//
2 Samuel 6:14-15
And David danced before the Lord with all his might, wearing a priestly garment. So David and all the people of Israel brought up the Ark of the Lord with shouts of joy and the blowing of ram's horns.
And you're free to dance
Forget about your two left feet
And you're free to sing
Even joyful noise is music to me
You're free to love
Cause I have given you My love
And it's made you free...
I have set you free.
//Ginny Owens/Free//
Grace like rain falls down on me...
//Blaise Pascal//
2 Samuel 6:14-15
And David danced before the Lord with all his might, wearing a priestly garment. So David and all the people of Israel brought up the Ark of the Lord with shouts of joy and the blowing of ram's horns.
And you're free to dance
Forget about your two left feet
And you're free to sing
Even joyful noise is music to me
You're free to love
Cause I have given you My love
And it's made you free...
I have set you free.
//Ginny Owens/Free//
Grace like rain falls down on me...
3.5.10
Samson
You are my sweetest downfall
Good morning, you beautifully green, wet world outside. To be wakened by the sound and scent of a thunderstorm can hardly be surpassed by any paltry alarm ring, and what a glorious day!
Psalm 19:1-2//
The heavens are telling of the glory of God;
And their expanse is declaring the work of His hands.
Day to day pours forth speech,
And night to night reveals knowledge.
I have sipped from the cup of delight, and instead of feeling the effects fade with time, I have woken up to joy even greater than before.
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