Ramen at the Lord's Table

I have some not-so-healthy habits. I stay up too late. I drink too much coffee. I eat things that remind me of college, like ramen noodles and mac-n-cheese. These are non-meals, but I do enjoy real meals, and find the conversation with friends as much of a feast as the eating.

I am eating solitary late-night ramen wondering when it is that the Lord's Supper became a non-meal. When was it that this luxurious table was splintered down into a tiny wafer and a sip of syrupy grape juice concentrate, and/or cheap wine?

And when did it become so boring? I really would like to enjoy this sacrament with celebration. But it seems that in order to "do this in remembrance," my culture has told me that I have to be sullen and serious and sad. But I do not think a meal in the wake of a Risen Jesus should be so. He's alive, kids. Everybody mango!*

* a silly phrase recently developed which denotes summer-sun/fun/laughter/dancing.

(Ramen Noodles by Mochick)

Three's A Crowd

My dentist says I have three tiny cavities. Oh dear. Too many cupcakes.

The smiling news is that it won't hurt to fill 'em. And it'll only cost me $20. I'm very happy I decided to sign-up for the dental health plan, ma'am.

I sat down in the check-up chair and felt compelled to confess with great severity, "Doctor, I haven't been flossing." He was gracious and just sort of laughed at me.

B-sides on Time - Take 4

I can't pretend that I've gotten any better at managing my time. If anything, I've just been able to prioritize things a little smarter. I've been trying to use a spreadsheet to chart out what "debt" I have (weighty undone tasks), in the same way that I've been using a spreadsheet for my finances.

A wise woman once told me that I didn't need a new organizational system. I just need a system that I'll actually use, she said. I figured since the money-sheet is working for me, maybe I could translate it to how I use my time. Well, I'm still horrendously behind in many things, but it does feel nice to slowly chip away at those things I "owe."

A month or two ago, I really felt God seriously urging me to stay ahead of my assignments in my Fuller classes this quarter. Doing so would allow me to walk in freedom. For various reasons, I haven't done that. (At all.) And now I feel like I'm held hostage by all that's still left undone.

In all of this measuring and plotting and planning, I came across these words of Mother Teresa:

Intense love does not measure, it just gives.

I want to "pay down the debt" of time owed to certain projects and assignments so that I can be more free to give, to love. If I'm really honest, when I'm wrestling with over-due tasks, I usually fail to love my family well. In fact, I'm a big jerk. And that makes me sad.

For far too long I've hidden behind procrastination, pretending it to be a banner of freedom. I think procrastination has been the symptom of my unruly addiction to independence. Sweet Jesus have mercy.

(Photo: "Love is a Mixed Tape")

B-sides on Time - Take 2

I'm beginning to see that I deal with time (i.e. "gettin' things done) the way I've often dealt with money. I sigh at things inwardly and whisper, "I'll deal with you later," acting as if I'm too cool to care.

Of course I care. But I tend to avoid sizing-up the damage until later.

Emotionally, I'm quite the opposite. I deal with things that are stirring in me the instant I feel them. And if I can't do so immediately, I feel like I'm going mad. I don't like those things lingering untouched. That's probably why I'm such a confronter. (Go team.)

Since March, I've managed to exceeed my plan for paying down debt and paying "up" savings by about 15%. This is great news for one who struggles with follow through! Now, if I could just translate that to my time, I'd be one healthy pup. And my life would be simplified by the removal of inner guilt that inevitably comes with piles of things left undone. That guilty stuff is like plaque in the arteries.

(Photo by: Steve the Alien)

At the Cross

Tonight in Sofia, Bulgaria, my friend Brooke is sharing about the power of the cross with a bunch of International and Euro teens. Above is a combination of five canvases that her husband Tate painted as illustrations for each of Brooke's nightly messages. She'll smoosh all the canvases together to portrait the Father reaching to the world through His Son. It's such a nice illustration.

If you are a praying-type, now would be a nice time to ask the Holy Ghost to do wonderful healing things in the hearts and minds of all those teenagers.

These days the thing I'm bringing to the cross most often is my independence. I want to learn what it means to live in healthy interdependence between myself and God, and myself and others. Most of my life I think I've tended to live in psychotic polarization: either acting as if I don't need anyone, or being emotionally addicted to my closest friends. I have so much to learn. In the meantime, I don't want to hide behind my independent-spirit, any longer.

Oh Snap, Son

In truth, I have massive blog envy over Andrew Jones' infamous Tall Skinny Kiwi Blog. He was blogging about important and quirky things in the Kingdom long before blogging became a verb. And he makes me laugh aloud with his occasional photoshopping antics. As a rogue wanderer on his site, I found this cool app called, "Snap." I had to have it.

So now I do. Hello Sez Nelly gets a new (ahem, snappy) dress. Let your mouse do the walking and now be thrilled by getting visual previews for most all of my linkages!

What the Church Can Learn from MTV

Late last night I watched MTV's Juvies with my Mama. I should have been studying, but I was drawn into this new unscripted series on adolescents in trouble. Juvies began airing in January, and is part of MTV's "Think" campaign which deals with issues of discrimination, education, the environment, and sexual health.

Last night's show followed two teenage girls into the Juvie detention system. Both girls were caught stealing: one admitted that she steals compulsively, the other, named Kashmiere, was caught on her first offense. The documentary weaved in and out of the teenagers' family lives, revealing the lack of relationship each girl has with her parents. Kashmiere was shown bitterly crying over the chasm in her relationship with her single mother.

Their stories made me very sad, and angry at the same time. I saw these girls acting out of their need for relationship, and finding themselves reprimanded by authority figures who offered them no other hope except, "Stay in School and Do Right."

MTV's Juvies paints an accurate picture of my generation. We are starved for relationship and we'll do anything to find it. In Kashmiere's case, she stole $380 to gain the approval of her friend.

MTV has a close eye on the needs of the emerging generation. They may be exploiting those needs, but still, it bothers me that MTV seems to be doing more to connect with this generation than we are, as the local expression of Jesus' community. And this judgment falls on me, just as much as the other.

Soy Scum Meditations

I like hot soy milk. With cinnamon and nutmeg, please. I call it "Christmas in a Cup." Tonight I put the soy milk on the stove, and then forgot about it. I came back to soy scum. Lots of it. As I cleaned out the pan and made shriveled-faces at it, I laughed to myself, "There must be a deep spiritual metaphor here in this soy scum."

I'm not sure there is a deep metaphor. (If you find one, throw it at me.) But I am sure of this: I tend to put pans on the oven and then forget about them. I start things and then forget about them. I adore new projects. I go crazy with them. My creative juice gets splattered around everywhere. This is oftentimes my pattern:

1. Think of a wild new project to work on...start it with engines running...even if I stay up all night.
2. Forget to finish the project
or (worse)
2.5 I get bored with it.
3. So, hooray! I find a new project altogether!
4. Wash, Rinse, Repeat step #1.

I often have to guilt myself into finishing things, unless I have some hard-pressed deadline given to me from someone with quasi-authority.

Alas. I sip my seltzer water and wonder how to become a woman of more follow-through.

Confessions in Salem

This is a remarkably beautiful story from Pastor Phil in Salem, Mass. Especially if you've read Miller's Blue Like Jazz. Here's a quick excerpt from the post, One Big Sorry Church: It was no new idea...James was the one with the idea of trying it in Salem over the weeks of Halloween events, and I thought it would work well, but we had no idea how well. James bought a few monks robes. We had the tents and tables...We made signs, "Free Confessional Booth."