Unlikely Wrapping Paper

Well—

they were told

a gift was on its way

and being of proper breeding

they sought

shiny wrapping paper

bow with finesse

impossible to miss.

Too preoccupied looking for sheen

they missed

the cloak of a teenage girl

passing by that busy morn

the cry of a baby

from a not-too-distant cave

the unmistakable scent

of two turtledoves

offered up

on an altar

that other day.

Inez

Inez is a tall, jet-black haired woman from Central Mexico. She is big-boned, in serious "work" mode most of the time, but she is all wide smile when she grins. Today, sitting with her in the brisk cold air on the picnic bench at lunch, I had the opportunity to hear more of her story, and was amazed at her courage in moving to a new country when she was settled in her old.

It was the year 2000. Or likely, 1999 when she started pondering coming because January 2000 was when she crossed the border to go north. I don't know how she orchestrated her visa and work permissions, but 4 months after she passed over, she got a job as a production lady at B. Her brother had been inviting her for years to visit the States for a vacation, but she had never felt compelled to come--she wasn't a fan of English, what would she do in America? But when her friend suggested moving to the U.S. for three years, she thought, why not? Her friend came too, but left after two years. Inez came and never moved back. It's been 14 years. She was 24; she is now almost 38. I wonder what moved her here--she had a comfortable life working at a bank, family around her, had just finished college. What moved her from zero interest in visiting America to moving here for 3 years, just to check it out? And now loving it so much that she wouldn't go back? When she came, she was amazed by the big city, in awe. She asked her brother about different places to visit, and he told her that he didn't know about them because he never went there. She was not him--she couldn't wait to check out all these new places, and hopped on buses to get there.

Making a Fool

"If the truth is worth telling, it is worth making a fool of yourself to tell." ~Frederick Buechner

Stillness

Well. There’s the moment after you’ve said it--those words that he didn’t want to hear, in the quiet of just before sunset:

“I’m sorry, we can’t help you.”

He leaves, wordlessly, in a huff. Shortly thereafter, you hear the sound of an empty soda bottle clattering to the cement ground. You wonder if you made a mistake--what you said, or how you said it. You briefly reconsider if you should’ve said instead:

“I’m sorry, sir, but you are mistaken. You did come here on Monday night and made the same request. The pastor helped you with $100 out of his own pocket. How can we trust that you are telling the truth now?”

What is the truth? Did he just forget that he came here on Monday night? He insisted multiple times that he had never been here before. Did I turn away a father in a dire time of need, when he needed a mere $136 to cover the remaining cost for catheters and saline solution for his poor tracheotomy-tube breathing one-year-old son? Or was this another ploy, albeit all the more convincing because his level of detail about the situation and his seeming earnestness about his son? Is it possible that this is another Anthony Ramirez who happens to have the same situation? Why can’t I sense when someone is lying to me? Shouldn’t I just know?

Job update: Possibilities

Today, while I was packing up my parents' stuff, I received a phone call from a 323 area code. I was initially suspicious that it was a sales call, but it turned out to be from Goodwill regarding the Employment Services Specialist job I had applied for a couple weeks ago. A couple questions later, I was scheduled for a 10am interview this Friday. Wheeeeeeeeee!!!!

Also, I had a promising Friday last week--encouraging meeting with my AppleOne temp agency consultant, Baina, who was super attentive in wanting to place me strategically. Afterwards, I jetted over to Bioseal for an interview-of-sorts with the president, who happens to be an elder of the church I work at. They want me to fill several holes there--website content management, sales support, office work. It was so comfortable talking with people who know my work and want me there; I didn't have to prove myself. I should be hearing from them in a week. 

The ball is rolling! To where? Who knows!

Goodwill Employment Services Specialist

Filled out a job application for Goodwill--Employment Services Specialist in LA. 

Other exciting news? I got free alcohol-free mouthwash from the dentist today. It almost makes up for needing to get dental work. Almost. 

Resurrection Nonsense

The words sounded to them like nonsense.

Well—of course.

What babble could be believed

             from the mouths of these addled women?

What did such female folk know of the Lord

What words could they speak of the Word

that cohered

and congealed

into a meaningful, life-giving sentence?

But what is true

is what seems so radical,

yet is truly the root

of all true faith.

The radical, insane women

speak the most radical truth of them all,

the crux of our faith—

the curse of the cross

broken by the resurrection.

The women’s words are

no babble.

Indeed, the Babel curse is

triumphed over

as words now bring life

and reconciliation, not

condemnation.

Bending into the tomb

a shaft of light pierces

Peter’s brain.

Perhaps

new life is here.

Out of Bounds

She has been in these bonds long enough. 

There are no borders thick enough

to keep Him away.

He had to go through Samaria.

There are no borders she will cross

except to transgress with a man—5 men. 6.

Cast outside the town

she sees—all too clearly—

the border between Mount Gerizim and Jerusalem

the times when she can—and can’t—draw water.

The bounds hem her in.

The grip is suffocating.

She thirsts.

Crossing borders, he thirsts.

Offered living water

she puts down her jar

and runs into town.

Captivated by Christ,

she is free to run.

She is no longer bound. 

Quotable: with Friends

1.  Sarah: "Marriage is hard, but worth it at the end of the day. Just like life."

2. Ingrid to Sarah: "You say a lot of quotable things."
Sarah: "Oh, just stick with me a little longer and I'll say lots of quotable things."
Ingrid: "Like that one."

3. Ingrid: "Charisma! Do you have the magical ability to not make a total mess when you're eating a peach?"
Charisma: "No! Do you?"
Ingrid: "Oh, no! I don't know how some people do it."
Charisma: "Me too! If you were on a date and had to choose between eating three peaches and spaghetti, what would you choose?"
Ingrid: "Hmmmm, which date is this?"
Charisma: "Third date. In a mediumly nice restaurant--let's say BJ's."
Ingrid: "What color shirt am I wearing? Is it white?"
Charisma: "It's taupe."
Ingrid: "That's a tough call. What would you pick?"
Charisma: "Peaches, because I like peaches more than spaghetti."

4. Ingrid: "We should make that our tagline: Ingrid and Natalie: keeping each from becoming psychopaths. Since 2003."

5. Ingrid: "I'm trying to not analyze as much and take action more quickly. Like, I was standing at Trader Joe's agonizing for five minutes over which dried mango slices to buy."

6. Friend: "It was the first time I felt convicted to flirt. I had to get out of there!" referring to reading How to Get a Date Worth Keeping at Barnes and Noble.

Forgive Me for Not Trespassing: a Confession

Lord—
save us from our adversaries
ourselves, who want
more than we were made for—
nay, not more, but less.
We believe Twinkies are what we crave.
We believe mud pies are better than holidays by the sea.

But why pray for Your kingdom?
Thy kingdom is already here—
At least the part that matters:
Assurance of eternity with You
And all the comforts of modern existence.
Insta-Internet, the portal to near complete fulfillment.
Why venture outside my bubble?
It would pop.

Earth is already close enough to heaven.
If it isn’t, we can always access a virtual version in the here and now.
The then becomes the now
And now it doesn’t matter what is real.

It’s much easier to flit through pixel and page
To another world—anywhere but here.

Forgive me for not trespassing—
I have stayed in my fort and made it a cottage—
Snug, secure, cozy.
Just perfect for me.
My neighbor I do not know, let alone hate enough to possibly love.

Lord—why hast Thou given us our body and our blood?
The flesh that reminds us all too clearly—
We are here?
For this is where we need You.

Take and Eat

Christ—
the Son became flesh—
how can we eat You?
Why should we—
if our bodies are to be despised,
castigated?

Who are You
in this moment of screaming agony
writhing limbs
seared flesh?

If not one of us,
then what are we?
Our bodies, merely matter?
Or spiritual...bodies?
If this, why eat
You?

Relentless Grace

A relentless pursuit
she has never known
to the arms of another
she runs

Here,
he comes
breathless
fingers lifting his skirt from the dust
his arms,
an embrace
a welcome home
for her cheatin’ heart.

With morsels and sweet words
he woos her to his side
draws her to the baptismal waters
though her sins are as scarlet
they will be white as snow.

His delight in her will be unending
his love for her will never fail
and on that fateful wedded day,
consummation
will unite bride and groom forever.

She will never leave his side
he has purchased her with his life
and as she descends from heaven
all he sees
is gleaming white dress
and radiant face
reflecting his.

“Now the dwelling of God is with men, and he will live with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be with them and be their God.”

Sex and money: worth talkin' about

Lauren Winner, Real Sex

Too often the church, rather than giving unmarried Christians useful tools and t hick theologies to help us live chastely, instead tosses off a few bromides—“True love waits” is not that compelling when you’re twenty-nine and have been waiting, and wonder what, really, you’re waiting for.

Indeed, the instruction to just zip perhaps fails to recognize that one resists strong bodily urges like sexual desire not primarily through willpower, but through grace.

But if we see scripture not merely as a code of behavior but as a map of God’s reality, and if we take seriously the pastoral task of helping unmarried Christians live chastely, the church needs not merely to recite decontextualized Bible verses, but to ground our ethics in the faithful living of the fullness of the gospel.

Perhaps the revelatory thing for me about money is that I have the power. I could, work a couple hours and baby sit on Friday’s and use that money to donate to providing after-care for young women rescued from trafficking in Cebu.

What am I willing to go without so I can have more to give, to save, to spend if necessary?

Can I understand money? For most of my life—frankly, until now—I thought it was some esoteric entity comprehensible only by an elite few. Certainly not lower-middle-class moi. Money is mysterious in some ways, but still understandable.

I could buy x, or I could not buy x. Having the option to buy something was revelatory to me, almost as much as the option of not having to buy x.

Goliaths

So, in conjunction with my roommate Linell yesterday at the fortuitous location of our neighborhood Panera, I pretty much finished my 2010 taxes. E-filed California, and just need to paper-file fed taxes. It wasn't so bad, all things considered. Maybe taxes aren't the Leviathan I thought.

Now, on to my 2009 Canadian taxes!

Danice

Yesterday, at my neighborhood Stater Bros. store, I bought a 15 oz. box of Life Cereal. Which, of course, made me think of Danice. Danice was one of my four housemates in Vancouver, BC. Her mousy brown hair is short, with an amazing ability to array itself in a variety of styles. Danice loves Life cereal; her near-addiction to it rivaled only by my near-addiction to Nature Path’s Mesa Sunrise cereal, most often purchased for $5.99 at Dollar Grocers.

We lived on 1234 E. 7th Ave. in East Vancouver, in the Grandview-Woodlands neighborhood more commonly referred to as “The Drive,” referring to Commercial Drive, which runs north-south and is characterized by natural food shops, local coffee shops on every corner and a lot of hippie-or-hipster-types. Seventh Avenue was two streets south of the main street of Broadway Ave, and quiet; the street was home to the most perfect arching trees and to a Hungarian church just 3 doors east of our house. These arcing trees provided the visual aid and backdrop for a lovely evening walk with my friend Danielle one fall before I moved into this house, when we ended up talking about romance, unrequited love and how romance/relationships/marriage is but one arc under the grand arc of God’s redemptive narrative. These same trees met my gaze every morning from my triangular top floor window; it seemed a gift too extravagant that I could be living in a house on this street, of all streets.

Danice is not a fan of mornings. I learned this soon after I moved in and I sat down to breakfast. Danice emerged from her bedroom, adjacent to the kitchen, and prepared her edibles. I attempted to make some conversation with her, but didn’t quite succeed. Later, her longtime roommate Beth graciously informed me that it takes Danice some time to warm up to talking with people in the mornings, which I quickly noted.

One thing I always associate with Danice is her impassioned enthusiasm for almost anything. When Danice is excited about something, you know. Michael Jackson? Definitely. Dancing? For sure. Youth? No doubt about it.

Economy of Grace

In the economy of grace—
where roses form beds
she brought forth two children
the first, perfect
the second, less
when the Lord God breathed into their nostrils
they were created

her husband stopped breathing

she kept on living
smelled a rose
took a breath,
held out her hand
and walked with God
in the city.

Personal Calling vs. Vocation

A brief, yet excellent, explanation.

Sexual Harassment in Egypt: Disregard for Human Rights

"Why is sexual harassment in Egypt so rampant? There could be any number of reasons, but many point to disregard for human rights."

Sadly, makes sense...the former is a logical conclusion of the latter.

http://edition.cnn.com/2011/OPINION/02/16/rogers.egypt.sexual.harrassment/index.html?hpt=C1

Perhaps, perhaps

In frenzied grace, she carried this fragile hope that perhaps, perhaps...there just might be--another chance, another breath--

New year, Chronological Bible Reading Time!

I've been wanting to read the Bible in chronological order, so why not correlate with the new year?

Observations on reading Genesis 1-6 so far:

*increasing enmity between humans and earth/soil:
(a) Fall/Curse
(b) Cain: can't reap from ground, fugitive
(c) Lamech's naming of Noah: hope, prayer for rescue from ground's curse
(d) wickedness of man great on the earth
(e) God decides to kill all flesh with the earth

*"walked with God" can either mean:
(a) God takes you from earth, as with Enoch, or
(b) God preserves you, as with Noah, and destroys everyone else

I'd love to hear any thoughts you have!

Now in Job!