"I only regret that I have but one life to lose for my country." -Nathan Hale, just before he was hanged for treason against the British Empire.
"I know not what course others may take, but as for me, give me liberty, or give me death!" -Patrick Henry, speaking to the Virginia house of Burgesses on March 23, 1775
What inspired these men with so much passion that they were determined to give everything, "And for the support of this Declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of Divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes and our sacred Honor," for the cause that stirred them? How did they know beyond a shadow of a doubt that they were called to fight this fight, and not others?
How do we know when we are called to fight?
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I've been thinking about symbols. Knights in the Crusades had banners with their family emblem, to identify themselves. Each male family member had his own sign. Fighter pilots painted an emblem on their fuselage, hoping for a legacy to follow.
What's your emblem? What would you paint on your plane?
Moreover, what's your nickname? Maverick? Iceman? Red Baron? How do you identify yourself to those who fight with you and equally to those who fight against you? What inspires courage and incites fear simultaneously?
When you go to war, what will your banner portray?
Saturday, March 24, 2007
Monday, March 19, 2007
Analog
D asked for metaphors of people's life journey. Hers is the busy scurrying of an ant. My mom's is a tour of duty in military service. Mine is the flight of a bird. An albatross, more specifically.
The albatross is the bird with the longest wingspan (10-12 feet). It spends most of its life in the air, landing only rarely. That's because they suck at landing. They crash every time. For is bird, the process of choosing a mate takes several years but once chosen, the pair mates for life.
It's the most legendary of all birds, but one of the lesser known. Sailors considered it disastrous to kill an albatross; there are numerous records of ships being lost at sea when an albatross appears to guide the sailors to safe harbor. Sometimes the bird is referred to as the soul of a lost sailor.
The Wandering Albatross (one species of this rare bird) flies up to 550 miles a day, and spends more than 270 days a year in flight. It uses the wind as its motor and glides, going hours without beating a wing.
I'm a wandering albatross. I float along the horizon, eyeing those around. I land disgracefully when I finally do decide to come down to earth. Is my flight aimless? No: I seek fulfillment. But I'm never filled for long, so I must light to the skies again to seek another adventure, another experience more wonderful, another relationship more blessing. And while I soar, there is nothing but me and my Creator. And the comforting biting wind.
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I love D. She's my bosom buddy; my kindred spirit. I can't imagine going into the mission field without her back here praying for me. She makes me feel so REAL. It's fun sharing blessings and struggles. My "core group" is her.
My counselor has asked me to keep track of how often I tell myself a certain lie: the lie that I'm not good enough. That I'm not worth it. Since she said that, I've been noticing that this LIE is pervasive in my life. In fact, it's foundational. It's (drum roll please)
Why I'll Always Be Alone, Reason III
"You get so down on yourself," my friend Ryan always says. I deny it, telling him that I'm just being honest. Realistic. I mean, check out the description by my picture. I'm pulling the classic undersell.
The problem is, I really don't see what's so great about me. I'm smart, but there are a lot of smarter people. I'm funny, but many people are funnier. I'm not ugly, but nobody's ever described me as pretty.
My view of myself gets reinforced by life experience. No one really cares about me, I think. Therefore when I meet someone from high school that doesn't remember my name, I assume it's because I'm forgettable. It doesn't occur to me that maybe that person was too stoned in high school to notice me.
It's a LIE. I know it! I don't WANT it to be true. I KNOW it isn't! But it still invades my thoughts and whispers in my ear, turning my insecurities into reality.
So why will I always be alone?
Reason III: If I don't like me, who else possibly can?
The albatross is the bird with the longest wingspan (10-12 feet). It spends most of its life in the air, landing only rarely. That's because they suck at landing. They crash every time. For is bird, the process of choosing a mate takes several years but once chosen, the pair mates for life.
It's the most legendary of all birds, but one of the lesser known. Sailors considered it disastrous to kill an albatross; there are numerous records of ships being lost at sea when an albatross appears to guide the sailors to safe harbor. Sometimes the bird is referred to as the soul of a lost sailor.
The Wandering Albatross (one species of this rare bird) flies up to 550 miles a day, and spends more than 270 days a year in flight. It uses the wind as its motor and glides, going hours without beating a wing.
I'm a wandering albatross. I float along the horizon, eyeing those around. I land disgracefully when I finally do decide to come down to earth. Is my flight aimless? No: I seek fulfillment. But I'm never filled for long, so I must light to the skies again to seek another adventure, another experience more wonderful, another relationship more blessing. And while I soar, there is nothing but me and my Creator. And the comforting biting wind.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I love D. She's my bosom buddy; my kindred spirit. I can't imagine going into the mission field without her back here praying for me. She makes me feel so REAL. It's fun sharing blessings and struggles. My "core group" is her.
My counselor has asked me to keep track of how often I tell myself a certain lie: the lie that I'm not good enough. That I'm not worth it. Since she said that, I've been noticing that this LIE is pervasive in my life. In fact, it's foundational. It's (drum roll please)
Why I'll Always Be Alone, Reason III
"You get so down on yourself," my friend Ryan always says. I deny it, telling him that I'm just being honest. Realistic. I mean, check out the description by my picture. I'm pulling the classic undersell.
The problem is, I really don't see what's so great about me. I'm smart, but there are a lot of smarter people. I'm funny, but many people are funnier. I'm not ugly, but nobody's ever described me as pretty.
My view of myself gets reinforced by life experience. No one really cares about me, I think. Therefore when I meet someone from high school that doesn't remember my name, I assume it's because I'm forgettable. It doesn't occur to me that maybe that person was too stoned in high school to notice me.
It's a LIE. I know it! I don't WANT it to be true. I KNOW it isn't! But it still invades my thoughts and whispers in my ear, turning my insecurities into reality.
So why will I always be alone?
Reason III: If I don't like me, who else possibly can?
Monday, March 12, 2007
Saturday
was a most amazing day. D came over and we spent the afternoon taking pictures. It's my grown-up version of playing Barbie, which I never got to do as a child. She's beautiful inside and out. When she talks about the guys she's dated I feel so pathetic. One. That's how many I've dated.
In the evening I went to a birthday party. The people there were a lot like me, most of them. There was one couple... I want to be them someday! SHE is a molecular biologist. HE is a downtown cop. I got to talk to her about the Salk Institute (where she works) and to him about the crime lab at the SDPD. They were amazing. Funny thing, though: they weren't Christians. Yet in the short time I knew them, they had the most loving, fun, and functional relationship I've ever seen. They bragged about each other (out of the other's earshot!). They told stories and made jabs and jokes and corrected each other. They were so content with each other but it was obvious that their relationship was anything but complacent.
No one but D ever reads this, so here goes my secret.
Why I'll Always Be Alone, Reason II:
You know that feeling where you just don't fit? You're a puzzle piece with nowhere to go in the puzzle. Some pieces seem to fit, but it's just not right. You walk into your own home and feel like a stranger. You get sick of jobs very quickly. You want to move every so often.
I believe that some people are meant to be vagrants. You remember those old cowboy stories about the lone man who'd wander into a town, change things for the better, and then ride off into the sunset? Why are there so many of these and yet we refuse to accept that today there can be people like that?
Back in the day, some of those different people (Call them deviants, vagrants, wanderers, whatever) chose to become renegades- icons of the culture. Robin Hood. The Lone Ranger. Zorro. Jesus. The list goes on. These people didn't stay in one place- they moved around, changed lives, shook things up, and went their way.
My secret dream has been to live on a boat. Ah, the solitude. You pull into a port here or there, do what you need to, and pull back out to sea. To see.
So why will I always be alone?
Reason II: I'm a vagrant. Who'll be willing to schlepp all over the place with me?
In the evening I went to a birthday party. The people there were a lot like me, most of them. There was one couple... I want to be them someday! SHE is a molecular biologist. HE is a downtown cop. I got to talk to her about the Salk Institute (where she works) and to him about the crime lab at the SDPD. They were amazing. Funny thing, though: they weren't Christians. Yet in the short time I knew them, they had the most loving, fun, and functional relationship I've ever seen. They bragged about each other (out of the other's earshot!). They told stories and made jabs and jokes and corrected each other. They were so content with each other but it was obvious that their relationship was anything but complacent.
No one but D ever reads this, so here goes my secret.
Why I'll Always Be Alone, Reason II:
You know that feeling where you just don't fit? You're a puzzle piece with nowhere to go in the puzzle. Some pieces seem to fit, but it's just not right. You walk into your own home and feel like a stranger. You get sick of jobs very quickly. You want to move every so often.
I believe that some people are meant to be vagrants. You remember those old cowboy stories about the lone man who'd wander into a town, change things for the better, and then ride off into the sunset? Why are there so many of these and yet we refuse to accept that today there can be people like that?
Back in the day, some of those different people (Call them deviants, vagrants, wanderers, whatever) chose to become renegades- icons of the culture. Robin Hood. The Lone Ranger. Zorro. Jesus. The list goes on. These people didn't stay in one place- they moved around, changed lives, shook things up, and went their way.
My secret dream has been to live on a boat. Ah, the solitude. You pull into a port here or there, do what you need to, and pull back out to sea. To see.
So why will I always be alone?
Reason II: I'm a vagrant. Who'll be willing to schlepp all over the place with me?
Sunday, March 04, 2007
The Beginning of a Series
Why I'll always be alone- Reason I.
I've been talking about how disenchanted I am with marriage as an institution and how often people marry the wrong person and are miserable. My counselor asked me to think about the kind of person I'd want to see opposite me in a marriage.
Tonight I met that person. Most girls end up marrying a man much like their father- not me. My dad is the polar opposite of what's attractive to me, personality-wise.
I've known this guy for a while now. Tonight it was made obvious to me- THIS is the type of person I want to spend the rest of my life with.
The problem is that he won't see me. I'll be a friend at best, and acquaintance more likely. But no matter my zeal for God or my sense of humor or my openness to conversation or my tendency to be REAL, I know the type of girl he'll go for.
Sweet, more quiet. Not quite as versed in the Scriptures or in apologetics as he is, but devoted to God and with a blind faith that supercedes all intellect. And quietly pretty.
I'm brusque, opinionated, educated, and probably someone who could challenge him in the deepest way. But banter is good when you don't have to live with the person. I can't change my personality so that this type of guy will see me. I'd be lying to him and, worse, to myself.
So why will I always be alone?
Reason I: I'm myself. Who but God can love that?
I've been talking about how disenchanted I am with marriage as an institution and how often people marry the wrong person and are miserable. My counselor asked me to think about the kind of person I'd want to see opposite me in a marriage.
Tonight I met that person. Most girls end up marrying a man much like their father- not me. My dad is the polar opposite of what's attractive to me, personality-wise.
I've known this guy for a while now. Tonight it was made obvious to me- THIS is the type of person I want to spend the rest of my life with.
The problem is that he won't see me. I'll be a friend at best, and acquaintance more likely. But no matter my zeal for God or my sense of humor or my openness to conversation or my tendency to be REAL, I know the type of girl he'll go for.
Sweet, more quiet. Not quite as versed in the Scriptures or in apologetics as he is, but devoted to God and with a blind faith that supercedes all intellect. And quietly pretty.
I'm brusque, opinionated, educated, and probably someone who could challenge him in the deepest way. But banter is good when you don't have to live with the person. I can't change my personality so that this type of guy will see me. I'd be lying to him and, worse, to myself.
So why will I always be alone?
Reason I: I'm myself. Who but God can love that?
Thursday, March 01, 2007
The Dream
No one ever reads this, so I feel safe in writing what I'm about to.
I dreamt last night about someone. I normally don't dream about people I know, but this is an interesting exception. I dreamt of a man I met through my Bible study- a man whom I admire. He was very sweet in the dream, moreso than he is in life. Then again, in life he never remembers my name. In my dream he definitely knew me.
I'm known for having action-packed dreams. This wasn't one. He and I were walking around, spending time together and having great conversations. Usually my dreams are very shallow as far as realism goes, but this one was vivid. When I woke, I could still feel the brush of his lips on mine.
This man came to my birthday party, but I'm not sure he knew it was for me when he came. He's always been very kind and cordial, but passingly so. He never remembers my name. He wanted to call me Susan or Caroline. Everyone wants to call me those two names if they don't know my real name.
This is the kind of guy that will end up with a trophy bride. I'm not a trophy. I'll never end up with someone like him; those guys don't go for me. They go for the girls that will look good on their arm. They don't want a relationship- they want an accessory.
This guy seems deeper than that to me (but I have been wrong before). He seems like a genuinely devoted Christian. But I'm just not pretty enough for him. I'm to raw and gritty And like Julia Roberts said, "Creme brulee can NOT be Jell-O."
Except I'm more like hot wings.
I dreamt last night about someone. I normally don't dream about people I know, but this is an interesting exception. I dreamt of a man I met through my Bible study- a man whom I admire. He was very sweet in the dream, moreso than he is in life. Then again, in life he never remembers my name. In my dream he definitely knew me.
I'm known for having action-packed dreams. This wasn't one. He and I were walking around, spending time together and having great conversations. Usually my dreams are very shallow as far as realism goes, but this one was vivid. When I woke, I could still feel the brush of his lips on mine.
This man came to my birthday party, but I'm not sure he knew it was for me when he came. He's always been very kind and cordial, but passingly so. He never remembers my name. He wanted to call me Susan or Caroline. Everyone wants to call me those two names if they don't know my real name.
This is the kind of guy that will end up with a trophy bride. I'm not a trophy. I'll never end up with someone like him; those guys don't go for me. They go for the girls that will look good on their arm. They don't want a relationship- they want an accessory.
This guy seems deeper than that to me (but I have been wrong before). He seems like a genuinely devoted Christian. But I'm just not pretty enough for him. I'm to raw and gritty And like Julia Roberts said, "Creme brulee can NOT be Jell-O."
Except I'm more like hot wings.
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
Monday, February 05, 2007
A Likely Story
Sigh. That feeling you get down at the pit of your stomach when you're forced to do something you hate? I've got that a lot.
Visual art has always been my forte, as has the written word. I want to be a writer, but no one cares about what I have to say. I want to get up and speak to people about what's right. No one cares.
I moved this weekend. My parents asked me several times, "Where are your friends?" and I couldn't answer. I had one person helping me move. One. She's my best friend and I love her dearly, but I couldn't help feeling abandoned by all the other people that I consider myself close to. Where were they? They knew I was moving. They didn't care either.
I have counseling today. Great. An hour with someone who is paid to care. Geez. I need to get out of here. I feel disjointed from the rest of the world. Will I find myself in Africa? Will I gain the experience I need in order to have people listen and care? Let's face it: No matter how much I know I'm right, no one will ever listen to me.
I have a deep yearning desire to change the world, but the world would rather stay the way it is. "All experience hath shown that mankind are more disposed to suffer while evils are sufferable than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed," Says the Declaration of Independence. People don't want to change. I do. I want, more than anything, to be changed by the ever-growing influence of the Spirit upon me.
Why are some people so influential and I'm nothing?
Why am I so discouraged when I think about what God's doing in my life?
Visual art has always been my forte, as has the written word. I want to be a writer, but no one cares about what I have to say. I want to get up and speak to people about what's right. No one cares.
I moved this weekend. My parents asked me several times, "Where are your friends?" and I couldn't answer. I had one person helping me move. One. She's my best friend and I love her dearly, but I couldn't help feeling abandoned by all the other people that I consider myself close to. Where were they? They knew I was moving. They didn't care either.
I have counseling today. Great. An hour with someone who is paid to care. Geez. I need to get out of here. I feel disjointed from the rest of the world. Will I find myself in Africa? Will I gain the experience I need in order to have people listen and care? Let's face it: No matter how much I know I'm right, no one will ever listen to me.
I have a deep yearning desire to change the world, but the world would rather stay the way it is. "All experience hath shown that mankind are more disposed to suffer while evils are sufferable than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are accustomed," Says the Declaration of Independence. People don't want to change. I do. I want, more than anything, to be changed by the ever-growing influence of the Spirit upon me.
Why are some people so influential and I'm nothing?
Why am I so discouraged when I think about what God's doing in my life?
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