Footprints of Adventures

Everybody collects something, some more than others. Just watch Hoarders on A&E for proof of that. I know one lady who has thousands of Barbie dolls and every other kind of doll imaginable. I had a middle school teacher that collected frog paraphernalia. You can imagine what her Christmas gifts typically were. Some people collect the intangibles, though. Stories. Memories. Friendships. Adventures.

I've got a few of my own collections. When I was a kid I collected pencils. You know, the really cool pencils with the special tops and erasers. I've got one with ash from Mount St. Helen, another with the word "Coke" written in different languages that I snagged from the museum down in Georgia, and a variety of others that represent my travels.

I've also got a stash of postcards, the bulk of the collection coming from my 4th grade teacher. I had his wife for 3rd grade and then I had him for 4th grade and both of my brothers had them, as well. Well, in 4th grade that teacher introduced me to all things Route 66 and postcards. Ever since then it's been on my bucket list to take a trip down Route 66 from Chicago to Santa Monica, start to finish. Anyway, once I left 4th grade, my teacher and I started sending postcards to each other, one from each place we happened to be traveling to. He and his wife has criss-crossed the country on numerous occasions and were always diligent in sending me a postcard from their travels. We kept it up for nearly 10 years before here in the last several we've just haven't kept in touch as well. But, yes, ten years.

Smashed pennies also join the ranks of things I collect - I've got somewhere around 80 or so, all packed nice and neat in the special smashed penny display binder random stores sell. I think my first one was probably from grandparents (or at least I think it was them) - it was one from the Pearl Harbor Memorial. I've even got a few from Russia. I was in shock when I was in St. Basil's Cathedral in Moscow and turned the corner and found a smashes ruble machine. I couldn't believe it. I got a smashed ruble of every design they had available. They've even got an entire website devoted to the hobby. I checked to see if Kenya had any, but no such luck.

But maybe the thing I like collecting the most are the little artifacts of life - places visited, notes written, movies seen, flights taken, football games attended, musicals watched - all represented by ticket stubs. I don't know when exactly I started collecting them, but I think sometime around early middle school, maybe 5th or 6th grade.  And ever since then, so far as I've been able to manage, I have every ticket stub to every movie I have ever been to, every football game, every trip, every museum exhibit, a few plane tickets, etc.  I figure it's better than collecting t-shirts and random things that take up space that I'll probably forget I even have.  I've got two 16x20 frames at the moment, plus two smaller 8x10 frames, chocked full.  So I sort and organize and frame the tickets. And look back and remember the stories, the memories, the friendships, and the adventures.

How do you collect the artifacts of your life?

If C.S. Lewis were 40% More Sarcastic...

So I've been reading this book called "Stuff Christians Like" by Jon Acuff, given to me by Jess T. (thank you!) and let me tell you, there's some seriously funny (no oxymoron intended) stuff in that book.

Here's what the back of the book says to give you the jist of what it's is about:

Sometimes, we fall in love on mission trips even though we know we’ll break up when we get back.

Sometimes, you have to shot block a friend’s prayer because she’s asking God to bless an obviously bad dating relationship.

Sometimes, you think, “I wish I had a t-shirt that said ‘I direct deposit my tithe’ so people wouldn’t judge me.”

Sometimes, the stuff that comes with faith is funny.

This is that stuff.

Jonathan Acuff’s Stuff Christians Like is your field guide to all things Christian. Like a satirical grenade, Acuff brings us the humor and honesty that galvanized 730,000 online readers from 209 countries in a new portable version. Welcome to the funny side of faith.

I've followed the blog for awhile and always found it amusing and the book is equally amusing. I probably find it so entertaining because he says the things I either say anyway or have at least thought to myself when it comes to Christians, church, God, and whatever else belongs in that boat of faith. My favorite line in the whole book was in regards to what an alternative title to SCL could have been: "Stuff Christians Like: The Book C.S. Lewis Would Have Written if He Had Been 40% More Sarcastic and 100% Less Dead."

I have no idea why I found that so stinking hysterical - maybe because I just got done reading a book not too long ago about C.S. Lewis and J.R.R Tolkien and have those two authors on the brain. Who knows. Nevertheless, if you have a moment, pick up the book - and if nothing else, check out his blog. And laugh at the funny side of your faith.

Weddings!

I forgot to mention what a great time I had at Erica's wedding and how fun it was to finally meet Karen Kingsbury!

A Special Country

Sometimes I'm amazed at the things I unearth in my room. It's kind of a disaster right now with boxes, clothes, paintings, and a host of other things scattered about. For whatever reason this afternoon I decided to sort through my filing cabinet. Mind you, I bought this filing cabinet when I was in middle school, if not elementary school. No exaggerating. I love having things organized and it started at an early age. I've got papers and notes in the cabinet from when I was in third and fourth grade - writing assignments, stories, drawings, notes, graded tests, etc. It's a small treasure trove, a glimpse into my life.

Well, I came across a paper today that made me laugh out loud and then I nearly started crying. Because to me it was evidence of so many things - dreams, goals, ambitions, a life that has come full circle, yet again, just like I mentioned in the last post. I wrote this paper when I was 13 years old, now nearly 13 years ago - I would have been in the 7th grade. It was dated October 8, 1997. Here is what I had to say in my paper entitled "A Special Country," a response to the question asked by the teacher of what country would we like to visit:

"I would definitely visit the exciting country of Kenya, Africa. To me, the animals and wildlife that live in Africa are fascinating. I would probably take an exciting safari trip! I could even take a few pictures of the herds of animals. It sounds really exciting! After that I would tour the country to see what the region is like. I would visit the villages and cities to see the different customs and cultures that they have. Maybe I could learn to speak their language. Meeting the people of Kenya would be a special experience!! (Clearly I was a fan of exclamation marks, and using two for emphasis.) It would be interesting to see how different Kenya is from the United States. Learning about the government, people, animals and farming of Kenya would broaden my horizons. The continent of Africa, in general, entices (does anybody in 7th grade use that word other than me?) me. The animals and wildlife would have to be my main purpose to go to Kenya, Africa. This country seems to be very impressive. That is why I want to visit this country so badly."

Oh, man. Isn't that crazy? After all these years. Africa was on my mind all along, even if it wasn't always at the forefront. Even in 7th grade when I was writing (thank goodness my writing has evolved to get beyond simple sentences and paragraphs that include more than two sentences) and dreaming, I was dreaming of Africa. My dreams have changed a little - it's not for the animals that I go and it's not for the safaris, although those are wonderful things. It's for the people - it's for the little ones who have been orphaned by AIDS and epidemics, war and famine. It's for the chance to be the hands and feet of Jesus, even if for a moment.

Besides...

"In his book A Severe Mercy Sheldon Vanauken, who lost his wife to cancer, tells of the last day he saw his friend C. S. Lewis. They had lunch together and talked about death or, as he says, "the wakening after death." Vanauken suggested that death would be a sort of coming home, and Lewis agreed. When it came time to part, he insisted that they keep in touch and then said with a cheerful grin, "We'll certainly meet again here or there." The two friends shook hands and Lewis made his way across the busy highway. Then he turned to Vanauken, raised his voice above the traffic, grinned and shouted, "Besides, Christians never say goodbye."

I've been thinking about this quote often here lately as I prepare to wave farewell to Fulton. It's from yet another one of my favorite books, A Severe Mercy by Sheldon Vanauken. I certainly don't think of it in terms of the references to death, but more of the idea of saying goodbye. You know, I learned awhile ago what it means to exit gracefully, thus the name of this blog and the quote on the right side bar. People keep asking, "Are you ready to leave? Are you ready to be done here?" And my answer is "yes." Not in a "yes - thank God, I can't get out of here soon enough" sort of way, but rather "yes, I'm grateful for this season, and I know it's just one of many that I'll pass through." I'm ready to exit gracefully and to embrace whatever season God has for me next. I know that I'll keep in touch with many people and I'm fairly confident it won't be the last time I'll ever see them. Missouri has been a big part of my life and that's not something you just walk away from and never return to.

There will be many friends that I will turn to this weekend, grin and shout to them, "Besides, Christians never say goodbye!"

It's worth fighting for

Humor me while I include yet another Lord of the Rings reference, this from "The Two Towers" movie:

"I can't do this, Sam."

"I know. It's all wrong. By rights we shouldn't even be here. But we are. It's like in the great stories, Mr. Frodo. The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger, they were. And sometimes you didn't want to know the end. Because how could the end be happy? How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad had happened? But in the end, it's only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer. Those were the stories that stayed with you. That meant something, even if you were too small to understand why. But I think, Mr. Frodo, I do understand. I know now. Folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back, only they didn't. They kept going. Because they were holding on to something."

"What are we holding onto, Sam?"

"That there's some good in this world, Mr. Frodo... and it's worth fighting for."

Our Generation

I've been reading a book called The Hole in Our Gospel by Richard Stearns, CEO of World Vision. A co-worker of mine bought a copy of the book for me as a graduation gift and I'm so glad he did. It's a compelling read, one that has made me stop and evaluate some areas of my own life, as well as reconsider the role I play in my upcoming trip to Africa.

Sometimes I think it's easy to read books like Stearns', which focus on areas where we as the Church in America and where we as individual Christians often fail, and just get all down-and-out and feel like the social injustices happening in the world are just too overwhelming and too much to handle. It's easy to read the newspaper headlines every day and think the world is such a lost cause and that surely God has all together forgotten about the orphans and the widows, the poor and the impoverished, the diseased and the broken. But as we think on those things, more often than not, we still do nothing to take action, to make some kind of change. If we are to feel compassion, then that compassion has to do more than just make us feel sympathy - it must move us to action. Stearns thoughtfully finds the balance between calling us out as a body of believers and as individuals and holding us accountable, without making us feel like we are completely helpless and hopeless in the face of the crisis. He presents facts, anecdotes, statistics, and Scripture all to support the idea that there is indeed a hole in our gospel.

One of the quotes I really appreciated that he included was from Bono:

We can be the generation that no longer accepts that an accident of latitude determines whether a child lives or dies – but will we be that generation? Will we in the West realize our potential or will we sleep in the comfort of our affluence with apathy and indifference murmuring softly in our ears? Fifteen thousand people dying needlessly, every day from AIDS, TB, and malaria. Mothers, fathers, teachers, farmers, nurses, mechanics, children. This is Africa’s crisis. That it’s not on the nightly news, that we do not treat this as an emergency – that’s our crisis.

Future generations flipping through these pages will know whether we answered the key question. The evidence will be the world around them. History will be our judge, but what’s written is up to us. We can’t say our generation didn’t know how to do it. We can’t say our generation couldn’t afford it. And we can’t say our generation didn’t have reason to do it. It’s up to us.

As Stearns outlines, we are a generation of people who have the awareness, the accesibility, and ability to put our beliefs as Christians into action, to stop paying lip service to the idea of taking care of the widows and orphans of the world, but to actually make it happen. But will we?

New Favorite Artist

I went to Columbia's Art in the Park over the weekend and I came across my new favorite artist, Randal Spangler. I'm drawn to any piece of art that has vivid colors and is imaginative - Randal's work is just that. But it's all done in colored pencil. The detail on some of his pieces is astounding and I fell in love with it all as soon as I saw it. I'm just kicking myself for not buying a print of the drawing that I absolutely adore, "Sanctuary of Knowledge."

Current Reading List

I realized I've got stacks of books scattered all over my apartment, all of them with bookmarks in various places, and various sticky tabs sticking out from some pages, indicators of quotes to write down or profound thoughts. I just love books. I have this horrible fear that some day they will stop printing books and everything will be electronic. Maybe that explains my subconscious desire to buy books nearly every time I'm in a book store or at the local public library book sale. I like to touch and feel and underline and reread - and I supposed I could do that with an electronic version of a book, but it just doesn't compare.

I subscribe to a weekly e-mail from Cardus and they recently had an article entitled "The Wake for Printed Books." One particular section stood out regarding books andtheir potential demise:

And I'm a lover of books, too, unaccustomed to making a body/soul distinction where the printed word is concerned. The book is the object and its contents, inseparable in my mind. I dwell in a house lined with shelves, most of them bowed by the weight of their printed content. Beautiful books and ugly ones. Read and unread. Objects of comfort, outrage, derision, admiration. Some pristine and others scarred. Some bound in leather, some in paper (at least one in shagreen). Prized and cheap side by side. Tangible things, each with a history. I can tell you where they came from, where they've been. The ones I sought out and the ones I discovered unexpectedly. The ones kept under glass in dark bookstores and, all too often, the ones overnighted from the clean, well-lit warehouses of Amazon. All of that will disappear when the book's body does.

Perhaps nothing can stop the change. Perhaps nothing should. As at the wake for the dead friend, that's not the point. Sure, he was sick. Sure, we all saw it coming. In a way, we're even relieved that his suffering is finally over. But don't expect us not to miss him. And don't expect us not to pity you for never having the chance to know him. Those of us who did will never forget.

So to honor my love for books and to stem the tide of those who love the electronic versions, I encourage you to go to the local library and pick up these bodies of books, some of my favorites and also some current reads:

Current reads:
King Raven Series, by Stephen Lawhead (the Welsh version of Robin Hood, very good read)

Citation - In A Class by Himself, by Phil Georgeff

Lord of the Rings Series, by J.R.R. Tolkien (Tolkien is a literary genius - his books are so good I nearly want to cry while reading them)

The Hole in Our Gospel, by Richard Stearns (convicting and inspiring in light of upcoming travels to Africa)

Favorites:
A Severe Mercy, by Sheldon Vanauken (hands down, my all-time favorite book)

Shoeless Joe, by W.P. Kinsella (this book is just plain magical)

"The Beast in the Jungle," by Henry James (my favorite short story, language is a little dense but profound story nonetheless)

So enjoy some good books this summer. Enjoy the feel and smell of the pages. Savor the printed word.

"A room without books is like a body without a soul." - Cicero

Everybody Has a Story

Everyone has a story to tell, whether they know or not. I met a couple the other night, however, that certainly had stories to tell. I was invited by a friend, Jackie, who had met the couple, Dick and Cathy, at the local Y. Dick and Cathy had invited Jackie out to dinner and told her to bring a friend if she liked. Jackie asked and I said, "Sure - why not?" Apparently the couple wanted to pick the brain of some college students as they were interested in getting involved in college ministry here in the local area.

We arrive at their house, which was a modest cabin on the edge of a 20-acre lake, tucked back in the woods. Jackie had mentioned that they were an older couple and so I had in my mind maybe people in their 50s or 60s. We knock on the door and Dick opens the door and it was like looking at white-haired version of Dick Clark. Dick had bright eyes and an eager smile. Then up walked Cathy, looking just as cheery. But they certainly were not in their 50s or 60s. Cathy, in fact, is 83 and Dick is 81! But here's the crazy fun part of their story.

They had each been married previously - Cathy for 53 years and Dick for 48 years. They had both lost their spouses 8-10 years ago. Dick and Cathy met while in Sunday School at a local church and one day they decided to go hiking on some local trails. Cathy, unfortunately, took a tumble off one of the ledges and fell nearly 15 feet and got a concussion. Remember, at this point, Dick and Cathy barely knew each other. Well, the doctor said Cathy was either going to have to stay in the hospital for 4 days to monitor her concussion or they could release her but somebody would have to stay with her for those 4 days. Dick was the lucky volunteer. Dick gets a big smile on his face at this point and says, "I fell in love with her during those 4 days." They got married shortly after and have been married for 7 years now!

They went on to tell all sorts of stories - Cathy's travels down Route 66, Dick's time in the military, and both spoke of their time as avocado growers in California. Coicidentally enough, Dick had started Avocado Grower magazine, a magazine to which Cathy subscribed and read frequently - but neither knew each other at this point, even though they had lived only miles apart, each on their own avocado farms in southern California!

They spoke also of their love for international students and their desire to minister to them and share the love of Christ with them. But what I remember most of all was what Dick said as Jackie and I were walking out the door after a delightful dinner and conversation with them. He was speaking of their desire to plunge into the ministry and to really devote themselves to the Lord, "Well, Cathy and I only have a short amount of time left and we want to make the most of it." When I'm 83 years old I want to be able to tell the kind of stories they tell and live with the attitude that they do - that there's always still time to make a difference for Christ.