Clatterbang and other Perils of Wisdom

Today's challenge: function on 2 hours of sleep. I guess I could have qualified things when I prayed not to be sleepy. Something short of insomnia would have been fine. Funny, I used to function fine without sleep before I got old. Wait, maybe I got old so quickly because I didn't get enough sleep?

Aging. Bah! Stuff creaks and other things rattle. My body is proof that gravity works. I move like one of those carts with the funky wheel. You know, the one you hope you won't get and when you do you try to pretend that your above noticing or being bothered by it as you force/guide it around the store? Yeah, out of a hundred good solid carts in any given store I normally get the one with the funky wheel. Thunkity thunkity, clatterbang! I guess it stands to reason that I would end up a little off my trolley in more than one way.

Speaking of shopping. Years ago in a land far from here I was shopping at a Home Depot. I was in the garden center where two cashiers worked diligently to check folks out. What is it that makes herds of people have the sudden urge to purchase their perennials and garden supplies all at the same moment? It's like we're Eloi answering a siren call. Anyway, after observing the lines for a minute it was clear which checker was the quicker and more efficient. I chose his line. That's when the other checker closed down and the person in front of me had a problem with his purchase. There I stood, next in line, waiting patiently. Ten or more minutes later patience gave way to irritation. My mother was right when she said I was a "Murphy's Child." No point in being angry I decided to amuse myself. I turned to the woman waiting in line behind me and pointed to myself. "Ma'am, you see this face? Study it carefully and if you ever see me standing in a checkout line somewhere, get in the other line." She and the others in line laughed. "I am trying to save you all. It's OK."

Later in the same day I was standing in the checkout line at Walmart when someone gently grabbed my shoulder. I turned and there she was. Without saying a word she smiled and moved to a different line. We both giggled and yes she was done before I was. If you have to be in the line that doesn't move and drive the cart with the funky wheel, it's best if you can laugh about it. Aging has mellowed me that way and made me see the foolishness in most of my angry moments.

Wisdom is a good part about getting old, probably the best part and I guess it's not a bad trade off really. Think of all the stupid things you've done and bad choices you've made for lack of it? How many times have you heard someone say, "If I only knew then what I know now!" Then riddle me this, why do those same people chase appearing young? Their actions betray their professions of valuing wisdom.

People baffle me and why God wants a single thing to do with us is really beyond me. That's a topic that requires more moving parts and firing synapses in my brain than I currently possess. Forgive me while I ramble out to the recliner for a nap. Thunkity, thunkity, clatterbang!

Spiritual Aphasia aka Senseless Theology

I was recently asked why I read theology and follow theological debates. "It's all just words and opinions." Words. Words on a paper, words on a blog. Words that travel invisibly through our airwaves and our minds. What would our inner monologue consist of without words? Harsh words, gentle words, untrue words, and solid you-can-die-behind them words. They have secret lives in the depths of our souls. They overflow in torrents of grief and joy. They seep out of our character flaws, wearing down the weak convictions that hold them back until they contaminate all those around us. All of us are stained within and without by the raw sewage of unkind words. Our souls are in jeopardy for want of The Word. Jesus Christ. The Gospel. The Good News. Words matter. Doctrine matters. Theology Matters. What you win them with is what you win them to. I study theology because I was lost too long in a world that scrambles truth with its own ideas and preferences. I was fed a diet of tosse

Super Church a song for the Emergent-sy

In the early 70s I was in a youth choir at my church. Our youth pastor was a musician and his way of connecting with us as a group was through the choir and music. Somehow there was an affiliation between him and The Continental Singers, New Hope and Jeremiah People. He was worked with Moishe Rosen of Jews for Jesus too, I think. Are any of these names familiar to you? Though I remember the church fondly I was a profoundly lost and troubled young woman during my years there. That and time have muddled the memories quite a bit. Today I was digging through some old paperwork and one of the books to the musical we did. It's Getting Late For the Great Planet Earth, a folk rock oratorio by Cam Floria. Yes, that's right. Cam Floria put Hal Lindsey to music. There's a lot to laugh about and some to groan about but as I was looking through the songs and remembering, I found this little ditty and I only wish I could sing it for you. Just remember that this is circa 1972 and even th

What if.....

...what if I just need a place to let some words spill out? What if they spill out in bouquets of bright colors and pleasing scents but their frames are made of snakes and lies? Will you the reader be able to tell? Will it matter? When words smell like lilacs and honeysuckle do you care what lies beneath them? Perfumed syllables cover the stench of hope's decay. A violet or two will fool most surface dwellers, allowing them to pass by quickly and unaware. Is that what words are supposed to do? What if my aesthetics with words are similar to Morticia Addams' with flowers? What happens when luscious blooms are discarded? When the ragged silhouette of thorns is all that remains will you still see the beauty? Perhaps we'll find out.

rambling rosemarie

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