Rita whirls forth across the Gulf tonight, and I am safe in the Midwest tonight (although a couple of nights ago a tornado could have spawned, could have thrown us into the straits of displaced others, could have stretched our faith into crepe paper thinness). I just hope it turns at the last minute and travels backwards to a miraculous gracious sea. Father Creationist.
I haven’t blogged for a while. I’ve been busy, internetting around on E-bay where I’m selling some items so that I may purchase myself something small, something selfish, something nano: an iPod. I’ve been imagining myself blissfully tuning out those sound irritants that take my attention away from what I’m reading in a public place. Imagining biking to my Helen bench with music in my ears, syncing my pedal, pulsating my peace. I’ve never wanted to thwart naturalistic sounds until this year. Now I want the music, some Chopin, some Green Day, some Jennifer Knapp, some musical friends, some Allison. Hmmmm…. am I growing old or growing backwards?
I’ve also been e-mailing frequently instead of writing here. I think my correspondence is a distraction that I may not be facing at the moment. We’ll see when the time comes.
I went to my women’s ministry meeting tonight reluctantly, yet, as usual, it was wonderful. My class laughed and shared and ate chocolate and planned on going to an artistic theater together. We talked about discipleship, unconditional love, prayer, stone massages, bargain books. I like one woman in particular who was in the pilot/aviation field before moving back to Missouri. We talked and laughed a while after class. Nice.
It’s quite predictable how, especially as it relates to church, reluctance turns into relief that one went afterall and heard what God had to say. I’m quite glad for his patient persistence in my case.