What I'm reading

Earlier this year, I placed a "reactive" order of three books (gotta meet the $25 free shipping level) from Amazon. Each of the three was an act of rebellion. One of them was in response to being assigned to read a book about small groups so that I could be a more effective SS teacher/small group leader. The assigned reading wasn't terrible, but certainly didn't shine amidst my other reading. (A Generous Orthodoxy by Brian McLaren, Spiritual Leadership by J. Oswald Chambers (again), the quarterly Notre Dame Magazine, A Theology of Love by Mildred Bangs Wynkoop (again), The Signature of Jesus by Brennan Manning, Live to Tell: Evangelism for a Postmodern Age by Brad J. Kallenberg) The small group book kept getting shoved aside during busy times. The week of General Ass'y, I finally decided I'd invested enough time in it and just skimmed through the second half of it.

Then I pulled Amazon.com's recommendation to me for a book about small groups from the pile of "on deck" books -- The Search to Belong by Joseph R. Myers. (Amazon knows what I like. :-) )

What a contrast. I am greatly enjoying it. It talks about how people look for belonging at four levels -- public, social, personal, and intimate. Public belonging is still belonging and not inferior to other levels of belonging. It's the type of belonging people find at bingo night or with a special-interest group, where you know people from the group at a certain level and enjoy being part of the "family", but don't really know (or particularly care to know) them on a personal level.

It turns out the author isn't particularly supportive of the philosophy that says all true ministry in the church happens in small groups. Good things do indeed happen in small groups but it's hard to force people into such fellowship. It's better if the groups form spontaneously in an environment that nurtures such groupings without forcing them.

Although I'm enjoying the book, so far only one quote has made it into my quote collection. I'll share it here:

"Be at peace. People connect and are motivated to connect in all four spaces [public, social, personal, intimate]. It is our charge to invite the stranger in. We do not invite strangers in for intimacy. We invite them in so they will no longer be strangers. We give space and they find family, belonging, and community. So gently knock and wait for them to invite you in."

Church: How I go without getting angry

I borrowed my title from a book I read. When I saw the chapter title coming up I was excited and almost skipped ahead to see what tips I could find there. Finally, I arrived with great anticipation. How does this postmodern author go to church without getting angry? What is his secret?

He changed churches. He shopped around until he found one he liked. Sigh.

I'm not changing churches. There's too much good about the one I attend. It's convenient. It links me to a larger community. There are good people there. However, in multiple ways, it's stuck in the middle of the last century and I encounter things there that make me angry.

I notice in the Bible that Jesus got angry when he went to church. (See Mark 3:1-6) Apparently, it's not a terrible thing to have happen. But I'm not nearly so justified in my anger as Jesus. Some of it has to do with the poor and needy being overlooked but there's also some of it having to do with me being overlooked. And I've become hypersensitive in some areas, misinterpreting things said and done to be more offensive than if I would were I being more gracious in my assessment of them. Sometimes I'm not very charitable. Sometimes I have the sensitivity on my offense meter turned up way too high.

So how do I go to church without getting angry? I'm still working on that. Here's a tentative list of ideas:

1. Nurture my sense of humor. It's hard to stay angry with someone when you're laughing with them.

2. Be slow to see offense. Give people the benefit of the doubt.

3. Refuse to focus on my own sad self when among the blessed family of God.

4. Seek fellowship with the quiet people rather than focusing on the more vocal (and offensive) people.

5. Seek points of commonality while overlooking annoyances.

Tomorrow is another chance to put all this into practice. Will it help me escape without steaming? Time will tell.

The party's over

Seventeen years of involvement with the local school system came to an end last night. My youngest child graduated from high school. It has been a fun ride. I've met many wonderful people -- teachers, parents, administrators, staff, students. Some I'll see around the community. There will be others whose path will never cross mine again. Either way, it won't be the same. My days as the parent of school-age children are over.

My older daughter asked me if I would still attend parent-teacher conferences. I said, "Sure, if I can find out when they are." That's been a standing joke over the years. The school sets aside a half day for parent-teacher conferences every year. However, communication between the high school and parents sometimes falters and I've missed a year or two simply because I didn't know when or how the conferences were being handled. In the years I've managed to make it, I've sought out the teachers of my children for conversation, but also chatted with anyone else I've encountered. Since my children have all done well in school, I've viewed the parent-teacher conference day as primarily a social opportunity -- a time set aside for informal exchange with the school staff about my kids and their kids and how things are going for all of us. Several of the teachers at the high school have children the same age as mine, giving us common ground whether or not they actually have one of mine in their classroom in any given year.

We had a party last night. I'm not good at parties. I suggested to my daughter that she find friends for a joint event and she did. It turned out to be a wonderful evening. In a small, rural community, many of the friends of the two friends she chose were at least acquaintances of our family, giving us a chance to visit with a broad spectrum of the community. We had a good setting, good help, good food through our joint effort, and a very pleasant evening.

I've heard that there's life after children and I'm looking forward to enjoying a new season of life. Still, as I stood in the school gym for the last time as the parent of a student and picked out all the familiar faces from among this community I've grown to love, I realized that, truly, I have been blessed.

The Problem with Blogs

Yes, I know. It has been almost two months since I last added to my blog. It's not because I haven't had plenty to ponder. It's because those ponderings have revolved around relationships and situations involving other people. Sharing my private thoughts in a public forum is one thing. Sharing my private thoughts about other people and what they're doing is something else entirely. Writing in ways that only refer to those situations obliquely seems a waste when I need to make hard choices and deal with things directly. So I've taken time out to deal with some of what's been happening.

You know, relationships are worth it: Worth putting my blog on hold; worth dealing with stress; worth working at; worth all the trouble. I hope to emerge from this time with my most valued relationships stronger than ever. I'm still working at that.

Perception

I planted peas Saturday. It was time. Spring insists on advancing every day. It doesn't wait for me to have time to work in the garden. Some years it sneaks right past me and I realize that the days for planting peas have come and gone while I've been worrying about tax tables and tennis tournaments and other aspects of being a household manager and mother.

My daughter had a lead role in last weekend's high school musical. We were within 15 minutes of leaving for Saturday's perfomance when I headed out the door with my seed packets. I quickly made a trough in the dirt, threw in the seeds and tamped the dirt down over them. They were planted.

Later I said something about having planted peas. My husband noted that I hadn't undertaken that task until late in the day. I may have been reading too much into his tone, but what I heard was that a handful of seeds thrown into the garden at the end of the day wasn't much to show for an entire Saturday at home. While he had a point and I can't claim to have used the day as efficiently as I could have, he was also overlooking something: Peas don't grow well in uncultivated soil. I had been out earlier in the day and turned over the soil in the pea bed. Two days earlier I had moved aside the cover that had been protecting the bed from spring rains so that the heavy clay could dry out enough for early planting. I put that cover there a couple of weeks ago. It was covering soil that had been turned in the fall so that less work would be required now. I've also been sorting my seed collection and pulling out those that need to go into the ground in the next couple of weeks.

Sometimes I'm aware of how little other people know of what makes up my days. When I hit a series of stupid mistakes that's nice. As long as I change settings between goof-ups, no one person sees the full scope of my stupidity. It's not so nice when someone looks at the results of my days and decides that I'm not using my time and talents productively. They see how little I've accomplished on tasks that are important to them and fail to notice any progress on tasks that I'm doing for someone else. Or they underestimate how much effort it took to do something. Like planting peas. 10 minutes. That's all it took. Grab a couple of seed packets, walk out to the garden, open up a shallow trench, toss in some seeds, and cover them up with dirt. Not much accomplishment there.

How often do I lack perception when looking at the actions of others. Do I see them as less mistake-prone than I am since I see so few of their mistakes? Do I see them as contributing less to my favorite projects than they oughtta because I overlook the other demands on their lives? Am I most aware of the times they are relaxing and less observant when they're working?

We never have a complete picture even of those with whom we live. If we are so unaware of even their observable actions, how much less do we know the extent of their inner lives? Each of us sees every mistake we ourselves make. We are aware of every contribution we make to the general welfare of those around us. All day, every day, we observe our own actions and monitor our thoughts and motivations. We know how hard we try and how discouraged we are by our failures. In comparison, we are almost completely ignorant of every other person in the world. Yet, we are often tempted to assess the performance and attitudes of those people of whom we know so little. Is there a way to avoid doing so?

On writing

Yesterday someone asked me if she could include something I had written on her church web page. She noted that, unfortunately, the church would be unable to pay me anything. Pay me for my words? I know this happens all the time, but it's hard for me to imagine that someone would want to buy my words. I toss out free words every day. There doesn't seem to be much of a market for them. I've even had people walk away while I was still talking, still handing out words to them. Does putting those same words in print give them more value? If so, why? Is it because they're edited and checked for grammar errors? Is it because they're less obtrusive than verbal words, more adaptable to the time schedule of the one receiving them? Is it because I put more thought into them?

Selling words. Come to think of it, some people sell their verbal words: speaking at conferences, preaching sermons, teaching classes. Of course, they have to show up to deliver them. If one sells written words, there's no need to follow them to their destination. I haven't checked back to the church site to see if my words are there yet. I won't have to pay any attention to them once they're there. Nor will I know if anyone reads them or, if someone does, what response they bring.

I have a few words scattered here and there around the internet, all handed out for free. Last time I did a search on my name and town, I discovered someone had copied an Advent devotional I wrote several years ago, along with the rest of the collection, onto a site I'd never seen before. I wonder if that person had permission from the owner of the site where those devotionals were originally published. Does it matter?

The lady with the church website isn't actually buying my words, simply asking for permission to use them. I wonder if offers to pay for words ever come in such unsolicited fashion.

Probably not.

Finding My Voice

As I read the blogs of others, I realize that the best blogs have a theme. The writer has a particular interest and addresses it. What would that interest be for me?

Do I want a diary? (Today I washed the sheets and hung them on the line to dry.)

Do I want a journal? (How pleasant it was to breathe in the fresh scent of the sheets today when retrieving them from the line!)

Will I write about gardening? Parenting? Life at the public library? Small town living? My spiritual journey? Marriage? The empty nest? Music? Books? Probably not movies or television since I so seldom watch either.

Shall I choose a theme or will one gradually find its way to the surface as I write?

I know someone who keeps three blogs -- a personal blog, a reading blog, and a thinking blog. That's besides the articles he posts on his website. I think if I tried that, I would end up neglecting all except one.

I've called my blog "Ponderings". Maybe for now I'll simply ponder as to what I should ponder about.

On being a writer

I read an article this week that suggested a blog as a good start for becoming a writer. Of course, one would probably need to tell others they have a blog in order to become a writer with readers, but I'm thinking it won't hurt to practice first.

This article suggested writing a weekly column. That sort of discipline scares me. Maybe that's why I'm not actually a writer, only a person who writes.

Life is too wild to write. There are musical costumes to be sewn, meetings to attend, meals to prepare, taxes to figure, general maintenance of soul and body to which I must attend. I write anyway, but most of it is in the form of prayer.

Someone said that if a person can be anything besides a writer, it's a good idea to do so. Can I live without writing? Not well. Can I live without writing for the world to read? Probably. So why am I here?

A deeper question might be, will I keep coming back?

Speaking of telephone numbers

A new telephone directory arrived in our mailbox yesterday. And it has my name in it! I'm so excited.

I wonder how long it has been since I first requested that my name be included in the listing? What prompted the request was my in-laws moving to town. That was nine years ago. They sometimes get calls intended for me because the caller isn't sure of my husband's name and picks the wrong number.

It's been a long journey. At least twice I called the phone company and was told it was too late for the directory already in process. That's all right, I told them. Just change it for the next one. Another year would pass after the arrival of that in-process directory and I would discover the change had not been made. However, instead of calling immediately, I'd forget about it until it was once again too late to catch the next publication. Finally, I requested the change, waited a couple of weeks and verified that 'information' could come up with a number to match my name. Still I couldn't be sure until I actually saw it in print.

I feel so much more like a real person now.

Wrong Number, Small Town, USA

(Note: Names and numbers changed to protect the innocent.)

Ring, ring!!

Hello?

Ronna?

Nope. This is Marsha Lynn. You want 9568. This is 9468.

Oh, I'm so sorry.

That's all right. They get our calls; we get their calls. It's not a problem.

You're from the library, right?

Yes, I am.

Oh... well, I'm sorry again. Good-bye.

I wish I were better at identifying telephone voices. She recognized my name, but I didn't recognize her voice.

At least Ronna's number was fresh in my mind this time because our daughters are in a musical group together and I called her about something last week.

One thing I haven't figured out is why two different people have left messages for Ronna and/or her husband on our answering machine. The outgoing message clearly states our name which sounds nothing like their name. Would you talk to an answering machine that claims to belong to someone other than the person you were calling? Would you call the person who left such a message to tell them they dialed the wrong number?

Forms and more forms

Monday I finished our personal income taxes which provide the necessary data to complete two FAFSAs (Free Applications for Federal Student Aid) and one College Board profile so that two universities can determine how much money we should be able to provide for our two college students next year. Tonight I submitted the financial aid forms online. Whew! Four days to spare. Now I can move on to other, equally pressing deadlines.

So when am I supposed to have time to think deep thoughts for my blog?

It took me a while to figure out that I wouldn't have to complete a FAFSA for my oldest this year. She's graduating. No more FAFSAs for her. No more claiming her on our taxes. Unless she opts for graduate school, August will no longer mean a move back to college for her.

It's taking me a bit to adjust to this new stage in life. She always has been the one to step into these new experiences first, leading the way for her brother and sister. I can see why oldest children develop different traits than middle and youngest children. (I'm a middle child myself.)

Joining the trend of public journaling

I've been reading some interesting blogs and thought maybe I'd give this a try. Of course, it remains to be seen whether I come up with anything worth sharing. At least I have a place to do it now if I get the urge.