Theology Girl Squad

Last week a package arrived in the mail to all of us from a far-away friend, recommending we open it together. So tonight we gathered for dinner and opened this anticipated gift. T-shirts! Personalized t-shirts! This is us (well, it was us last year) - the Theology Girl Squad. We'd talked about doing this, and now here it is! So exciting!

Three of us are in a class together now, and we're planning on all wearing our shirts one day next week. I wonder if people will notice that we match... (We all sit together, and it's one of those classes where everyone sits in a circle/square.) Theme days are fun.

One girl couldn't make it tonight because her baby was sick and cranky, so we unexpectedly popped by her house to drop hers off. It was good to see her... we don't see her enough since she's not at school this year. (It's really nice when friends are convenient. That's one thing I like about school.) I wasn't sure if it would actually be a good thing to stop in or if we would just be a bother, but I think she liked it that we came. She invited us to drop by anytime. I hope we do. We miss her.

Group memories... the one that comes to my mind first is going for coffee - meeting at her house and then walking down to Second Cup. The sunshine. The announcements that were shared that day. Then I remember other coffee times. Huddled around a table in the dimness of Starbucks. And lunch times - going to Wendy's after chapel so she could share her crisis of frustrations. The evening after the accusation, when we went to her apartment to debrief, and I kinda cried. They ate tuna and pickle sandwiches and I thought that was gross, so they fed me soup. Vitamin soup. And more one-on-one memories... How we did the SpDir project together, and how that made our friendship deep and honest and full of listening, and how I'm not afraid to confess to you. How even before we were close you once told me that I was important in your life (not just a luxury), and how you listened to me preview my chapel talk and you bought me a london fog, and how you became the person I called when things were too hard. How you have been such a constant friend to me over these past few years and how I appreciate that so much. How you were the newbie, but now you've become such a central friend to me that people think we've been close friends forever.

I love you, Friends.

Thank you for the t-shirt and the Starbucks and the love.

Montreal

I've never had a Reading Break before; I've always gone to Montreal. So now it feels pretty weird not being there. (It's been weird all year not having a team to be a part of.) In some ways, it's a relief to not go. The trip has always been really really hard for me: I feel miserable when I'm there, and then I'm barely able to function when I come home. I return with the hope that this time will finally redeem the previous negative experiences, but it never quite works. It's nice to not have that stress this year. But the anniversary makes me think back.

My memories of the first trip are distant. But I remember how we had a great team that was the foundation for some good friendships that I still have. I remember how us girls stayed up at night singing hymns and praying together, and I value that memory. And we have a lot of great inside jokes and hilarious moments from that year. Then the second year was just no good at all. I lead the team, badly, and it was utterly discouraging. The team didn't bond well (and we're not friends now). My quintessential memory: one night towards the end of the week I got accidentally punched in the eye, and the shock pushed me over the edge and I cried in despair over everything for hours. Memories from the third trip are a mixed bag of good and bad. I was really honest with my team about where I was at, and their support was great; but I was not well, and that was hard. I wonder if I actually cried the whole entire trip or if it just feels that way. I shared my testimony at church and felt completely unheard, but the act of preparing and sharing it was really important to me. There are other memories I really value, too. Our "heart to heart" and the hug he gave me one morning with a kiss on the top of the head and how I loved that and how we're friends now. Making him happy with Mars bars. His gangster encouragement and passion for God. His generous servanthood, and how much I respected that. How they told me I was wonderful, and how I believed them, and how that became a part of me that remains significant.

When I think about the people, I think about the people on my teams more than I think about our friends in Montreal. I'm trying to figure out why... I guess they were the ones I spent the most time with, the ones who really shared the experience. Also, I have always felt incredibly socially inept on and after this trip. The first time I went I felt like I didn't make significant enough connections with the people there and I wondered if I just didn't have the skills to meet people and make new friends. (This was basically confirmed to me when I got home and my then-boyfriend told me he'd discovered his family didn't like me. That was crushing.) I don't have the energy to keep in touch, but I feel like it's important so my failure to do so increases the emotional distance I perceive. On subsequent visits everyone treated me kindly and told me they were so glad I came again, and she tells me that they value me, but I can't really see it. Honestly, I still feel like I don't know how to build friendships with them. I don't know what to talk about. So I always felt kinda awkward (and I think I can even see the awkwardness when I look at the pictures). I don't think that getting to know someone can really be broken down into rules - I think at the bottom there needs to be an intangible connection that can't be forced. I can't make it happen... And sometimes it just doesn't happen? Or maybe it often does, but the connection gets smothered by other issues. Maybe I can try to minimize those other issues, so that the connections can flourish?

Maybe if I go again this summer, in a different context, it will magically happen?

Kinda Stood Up

a text msg conversation (not verbatim):
tues
me: would you be free to go for coffee tonight?
him: I'm kinda busy tonight. how about tomorrow?
me: I have plans tomorrow... thurs?
him: Kk

today
me: 7:00 at tim's?
no answer from him
dilemma - do I go or not?

I went. He didn't come.
"Kk" means yes, right?

three hours later
him: sorry, just got your message, been a little busy tonight

When we make plans that turn into me sitting alone at the coffee shop, it teaches me not to care.

And "stood" is a really weird-looking word.

Altruism

Phoebe searches for a selfless good deed
Joey says there's no such thing

A friend brought up the concept of altruism the other day, and I've kind of been thinking of it ever since.

Altruism: selflessness; unselfish concern for the welfare of others (www.dictionary.com)

You know, I don't really worry about my motivation for things. I think I try to judge whether something is actually good to do, and then I try to let that inform my actions and I ignore all the other motivations that I might have. Plus, I think it's ideal if something that benefits others also benefits me. I guess I'm selfish, and I don't mind that. Giving selflessness too much weight feels really unhealthy to me. Plus, it probably indicates a healthy morality to feel rewarded by doing good, to feel pleasure for blessing someone. So I guess I'm not altruistic. That's okay.

When I was in college I had a vague, pervasive notion that if I did something good because it would make me happy, I would ruin its goodness. I figured that the goodness of my moral action was lessened to the degree I was motivated by a desire for my own pleasure. ... [However, he quotes C. S. Lewis,] 'If there lurks in most modern minds the notion that to desire our own good and earnestly to hope for the enjoyment of it is a bad thing, I submit that this notion has crept in from Kant and the Stoics and is no part of the Christian faith.'
- John Piper, Desiring God

Oh My! (we sure needed feminism)

Having arrived on an early morning flight, I was in an eastern city having breakfast with the two women who had met me at the airport. They wanted to know if I agreed with the prominent speaker who told them the truly submissive wife would be a prostitute if her husband told her to do so. This man had suggested that if the wife had enough faith, God might pull off a last-minute rescue operation. But regardless, she was to obey and not talk back.
Florence Bulle, God Wants You Rich, 1983

Oh my. I couldn't imagine. I couldn't imagine being in a relationship with someone who valued me and our intimacy so little that he would order me to sleep with someone else, and I couldn't imagine being in a relationship where I valued myself so little that I would feel obligated to obey. I couldn't imagine being in a community where this flavor of submission would be expected of me.

I haven't always held the opinions I currently do regarding a woman's status compared to men, especially in a marriage, but I don't think I ever would have thought this was okay. I mourn for the women who felt like they had to believe it.

Their Perspective

Tonight after work I went out for dinner with two friends from work. One of them is away at school right now, but she came home to visit for the weekend. It was great to see her, and it felt like an honor to have her on Sat night. Although the other friend is at work every weekend and I really like her, we don't get much time to talk or hang out because of our busy offset schedules. So tonight was really nice. We didn't leave 'till 1:30 AM.

One of the things I valued about our conversation was getting to see glimpses of myself from their perspective. As I told them that I seem to feel more comfortable at work than at school these days, they affirmed that everyone at work loves me. We recounted stories about work and its people and events, and it seems that the anti-harassment policy is largely ignored in our workplace. I hadn't really noticed this to the extent that they reported, and I questioned why I've been somewhat immune. They suggested that since I am seen as pretty religious, it seems inappropriate to the guys to make lewd comments to me. ...Thus I feel like I am respected. I really appreciate that.

Other food for thought: Generosity. Her and her boyfriend and her wonderings and angst. Him and his affair with a married woman and how that is awful and how I still care.

Yay, friends.

Word of the Day: Mirth

Mirth: great merriment; gladness or gaity, especially when expressed by laughter; the gaiety characterizing people who are enjoying the companionship of others. (www.dictionary.com)

In Old English, it used to be spelled myrgth!

"Inventory should be a time of mirth!"
"I hope that at our homework parties, we can create an atmosphere of mirth and celebration."

Invitation

Reading Week Homework Parties!
I don’t know about you guys, but I’m doing homework over Reading Break!
Would you like to come join me?
Community, snacks, and the motivation to do homework, together!

Monday to Thursday
of Reading Week
11:00 am to 5:00 pm

Drop in – come when you want to, leave when you need to.
Open Invitation – everyone’s welcome.

at Michelle’s Apartment

Cynical

Tonight after the choir event, you called out, "Bye Michelle! Love ya!" when I left our dressing room. I didn't say anything in response; I just kinda laughed and continued walking out the door.

I don't believe you. You don't love me. You don't know me enough to love me, and I haven't shown you enough loveable qualities. And if you did mean something by what you said, if your words weren't completely flippant and empty, then your love is cheap. What on earth did you mean?

The other people noticed that I didn't say anything back, and I heard them make a comment as I left. Now I look like the troll who obviously doesn't love you. Maybe I should have said something like "Ditto" - it means almost nothing, but it fills the telling silence.

It was a bad night.

Girl Blitz

Tonight was a Blitz night, but actually we didn't end up playing Blitz or any card games at all. A couple of the boys went out of town, so since it was mostly just girls left we decided to dress up fancy - it's nice to have an opportunity to do so - and go out for dinner. It turned out to just be three of us, but it was great. We looked hot, and we went for pasta, and then we came home and lounged in our dresses in my living room, eating chocolate and watching Yentl. We talked about the experience of being women for a bit afterwards, until my friends realized it was late and they had to get home. I felt so grateful for their presence and their friendship. Thank you, Friends. I value you so much.

Good Book (on Tape)

This book is worth the experience. Andrew Solomon tells the story of his major depression, as well as the experiences of others, with honesty and candour. It's not always pretty, but it's valuable to see into another person's life. And despite some of the awfulness he talks about, there is much wise reflection, and there are other parts that are so funny. At times I nodded and hmmm'ed; at other times I actually laughed out loud.
Here are some of my favorites:

When I began to experience anxiety and major depression the second time around, while I was still in the shadow of my first depression, I recognized what was happening... I knew about three days ahead of time that I was heading for rock bottom... I warned my father. I tried to make the practical arrangements. Losing your mind, like losing your car keys, is a real hassle. Out of the terror I heard my voice holding on tight to irony when friends called. "I'm sorry, I'll have to cancel Tuesday," I said. "I'm afraid of lamb chops again."

In the wake of my prior publications on depression, I have received hundreds of letters from people in nine different countries and most of the fifty states who, touchingly, have wanted to let me know about alternative treatments. One woman from Michigan wrote that after years of trying every medication she had finally found the true solution, which was "doing things with yar n."...
My experience is that no one, no matter how lunatic he may seem at first glance, is completely off base. Many people achieve astonishingly good results with batty sounding projects...
It is my absolute belief that in the field of depression there is no such thing as a placebo. If you have cancer and try an exotic treatment and then you think you are better, you may well be wrong. If you have depression and try an exotic treatment and think you are better, then you are better. Depression is a disease of thought processes and emotions, and if something changes your thought processes and emotions in the correct direction, that qualifies as a recovery.

Great misery does not make me suicidal, but occasionally in a depression something small will overwhelm me and I get a ridiculous feeling. There are too many dirty dishes in this kitchen, and I don't have the stamina to clean them. Perhaps I will just kill myself!

Topic

I chose a topic for the NT Backgrounds presentation I have coming up in a couple weeks! We have to choose an ancient Jewish writing (such as something from the Pseudepigrapha), and I was having a hard time because nothing seemed to catch my fancy. But tonight I did some more seeking, and I came across The Testament of Job. It looks pretty exciting - the story of Job from his own perspective, with some added details, different theological emphases, and some craziness too. This should be fun!

Shrove

Today we had a Pancake Feast together. That's the tradition in my major - Shrove Tuesday is our most distinctive celebration. We have pancakes for supper with all the good toppings, upstairs in the staff lounge at school before the evening class. (We make the whole school smell like bacon, hehe, and I think I can still smell it in my hair too.) It almost didn't happen this year - our community has evolved because we've lost a lot of what used to be the core group and gained new people who are unfamiliar with our tradition. That and Easter is early this year, so Shrove Tuesday snuck up on us. Only about half the group came for pancakes, which was alright but different than it used to be. People brought guests this year too, which is again different than it used to be but in a good way. As I compare the way our group is with the way it has been I notice all the ways that community is waning, but I also see that even in our Golden Age not all aspects of the community were healthy so some changes were necessary.

To be honest, I felt really uncomfortable tonight, especially as we just hung out before the food was ready. As I drove home I tried to find the words and reasons to define it, but they eluded me. Some attempts: socially awkward, nothing to say, dull, outside, conspicuous, angst, distraughtness of soul, longing. ...I don't know exactly what I felt and I don't know why and I don't know what it means. I don't think it was just me because I was fine when I got there. But I know this isn't a new feeling: I'd kinda forgotten about it, but it's something I've felt for a couple years in many gatherings with my major... I've never known what to think about that.

Thus begins Lent. I was thinking of this last night while I was falling asleep, asking if/how I might be called to observe it this year. I remembered how excited I was to learn about the Lent tradition many years ago. Over the years I've given up meat, chocolate, pop, and knitting - but I haven't always found this experience of fasting to be valuable. I usually complained a lot, and I'd just end up replacing what I was giving up with an alternate vice. In recent years I've seen my capacity for discipline seriously decline, and last year I felt that it would be better just to not observe Lent. I kind of expected the same thing this year, but I thought I'd ask anyways. And I think I got a small answer. Praying the Lord's Prayer daily. It's small, but maybe it's small enough to avoid arousing my rebellion against discipline? I also found a Lent devotional by Evelyn Underhill at the used bookstore yesterday, so we'll see if I can keep up with that.
Jesus, help? I want to seek you...

Christ died for my sins. That makes absolutely no sense to me.

Trevor and faith

Today at work it was insane. We're so short on staff. I spent most of the day on till. But that was fine - I'm good at that job. At one point I had Trevor packing for me. I really enjoy Trevor (although I never feel confident that I have his name right... awkward!) We hit it off a few weeks ago when I couldn't talk, and since then we say hi at every opportunity and he gives me hi-fives. He's (quite obviously) seventeen and still in high school, but he's a lot of fun to have around. (What's with the seventeen year old boys being great?)

While Trevor was packing for me, I noticed that he wears a WWJD bracelet. That's not the fad anymore (is it?), so he must do it because it means something to him. I wanted to ask him about it, but it wasn't the time or the place to have such a conversation.

I also hesitated to bring up religion with Trevor because I would inevitably have to share my position. And I don't know what to say about myself. "Me too....But I don't go to church or read the Bible or pray very much or even love God." What makes someone a Christian? And do I still qualify?

As I thought about this tonight I found myself articulating that I'm not happy to be a Christian. I think that's because I'm not really happy at all. On a similar note, I don't feel proud of being a Christian. And I don't think that's because I'm ashamed of Jesus - I think it's that I'm ashamed of myself. I don't feel like I am a very good witness to Christ, and so for God's sake I kinda hesitate to associate myself with him. My car doesn't have a Jesus fish on it because I don't want my lapses in driving courtesy to reflect on God. I'm not eager to tell people I'm a Christian because I don't fit the definition very well. (Unfortunately it comes up all the time since I'm pursuing a Christian education. "What are you taking in school?!" they ask.) So much of my experience doesn't fit what seems to be either the ideal or the norm, and I'm not comfortable with that in a setting where they won't understand.

I don't have the faith or religious outlook of a nineteen year old anymore. I remember how excited I used to be to find out that people I went to school with or worked with had any leanings towards Christianity. I rejoiced in that knowledge, and I thought that gave us a special bond. I prayed regularly for the salvation of those who didn't know Christ. But over the years things have gotten really fuzzy. I've met so many wonderful non-Christians and so many Christians that I don't get along with. I build friendships more based on intangible connection than on religious agreement. Plus, my own dismal path has caused me to question everyone else's sincerity too. And if Trevor's anything like I was around that age, he won't understand where I'm at at all. I wonder if it might be better to remain a great pagan girl to him than to reveal myself as an apathetic Christian. If I do tell him I'm a Christian too, can I be honest about that or do I need to start putting rosy faith coloured glasses on everything? I feel like I can be myself better around my acquaintances if I leave religion out of it.

I prayed for Trevor tonight:
God, would you encourage his faith.
Can I encourage his faith???
Maybe he needs to be an encouragement to my faith.