Faces

To face something implies that one should turn to whatever something might be. Suck-it-up and take it like a man. Take a direct approach, confront it. To face something means to see it for all that it is. See the coming storm, take it in because sooner and later you will be swallowed up by it, and it will batter you.
A face is what the world sees when we walk out of our door each morning. It is the first thing we notice, and often the last thing we forget. A face can at any time carry the weight of this troubling world, or it can reflect the beauty of this carefully crafted world. Some try to hide their face while others plaster the world with their face. We face our faces in other directions when the sight is too painful to bear. We face our faces to the ground when we are shamed.
The human face is an open book, laid bare for all to see the hurt, agony, or joy. We search the faces of a crowd in hopes of finding someone to connect with--a familiar face. By chance, maybe we will recognize somthing in a face that we know to be true. Maybe that familiar face will speak to us about our own loneliness or our own shortcoming. Ultimately, I think, when we search the faces of others, and even ourself, we are searching for the only face that really matters--God's.
We hope to recognize, in the face of humanity and in the face of pain or loneliness, the face of someone we can only experience. We long to see if the face of Jesus or of God is real, if that face really was full of the compassion we lack, if that face truly was nothing special to behold as people wrote. Because if that face is true compassion and true simplicity, then we too can face this world with our face and make it through. If that face is as honest as we hope it to be, then we can look out at the mass of faces we see each day, at the bus-stop or the Starbucks, and we can empathize with them.

An Open Letter

Dear Jesus,

Or God, whichever gets it first, I must tell you that I'm not sure I want in on this whole Christianity thing anymore. It all seems like such a hoax sometime, the way I behave and the way so many of us behave. I wonder if what we have to offer on our side of the relationship is even worth that much to you.
My people are claiming to know what you think regarding the Terri Schiavo case. They are claiming that anyone who supports her death is evil and trying to play god. Maybe they are right, but I can tell you this, I think she's better off not in this world. I think that the Christians are trying to take your role from you by forcing her to eat from a tube when you know the only way she gets better is if you intervene. Again, that is if you really do want that. And interestingly, these same Christians, representing you, claim that a miracle is still possible. As if somehow taking the feeding tube out negates any miracle you might have in store. Funny how we limit you isn't it?
I've also been struggling with this whole, we're in, they're out, mentallity. We base our whole lives on faith in the unseen as Christians, but that is a difficult thing to do. It sure does make more logical sense to base our lives off of what is visible. Again, interstingly enough, compassion and love would still exist. So maybe that is the proof we need. But I feel like an outsider looking in on the world, wanting to take part in a lot of what they do. It seems so much more fun and pleasing. And at the same time, I feel like an outsider looking in on the church, believing on the cusp but not quite ready to act all exclusive. So I find myself saying what's the point of trying.

I wish I could say for certain I'd do a better job of following you. I wish I could know right now that in the end, following you will matter. That mercy will play out. Not that I want to go on sinning as Paul said, but simply because I fear the darkness hidden, and not so hidden, in me.


Andrew

The Road Unknown

I like to know where I am going before I start the car. If I've never visited a certain place, I like to have clear directions, landmarks included. I need some semblance of control, otherwise my heart races, my palms get sweaty, and I am a big grump to drive with.
My life is much like that as well. I like to know where I am going before I start the car. Right now, I have only a vague idea of where I am going, and very few landmarks to help me get there. I need to have my Professional Certification, a Washington State teacher requirement, within the next three years. I've not started on the road yet because, frankly, I don't know where to go.
The wisest route travels across the city of Master's Degree. In that route I would also get the Professional Certificate. However, the city of Master's Degree is wrought with potential detours. I could go the Master's in English freeway, which gives me a pleasant trip, and is much more enjoyable than other options. I could go Master's in Education highway, except it seems to me like it is not filled with many sights. I suppose I could go the Master's in Administration route which winds through the city, and is quite a bit more complicated. One needs to be a bit more sure of their skills. I've only been driving this teacher vehicle for two years.
Ultimately, I am just not enthused about being rushed. I want to take my time navigating this city. I feel quite incapable of making such a huge decision so early in my career.

Thanks

Dear Jim,

I know you've been around longer than that '90-'91 season, but that is when I joined Husky Nation. I was twelve years old. I'll even admit that I had already started up the stairs for bed when Tate George hit "The Shot." I figured it was over.
Having been transplanted into a different Husky Nation (Washington), I am constantly reminded how I rarely get to watch my Huskies. But I watched you take two teams to the National Championship, no small feat. And I sure as heck didn't mind paying the price on ESPN Full Court to watch you earn your 700th victory.
So thanks Jim Calhoun, for engineering one of the finest programs in the country; for always bringing class to the NCAA; for always being passionate about Connecticut basketball--even when there are only 10 seconds left and you have a 20 point lead.
You are joy to watch!

Don't Tell Me What to Do!

Not too long ago I was driving home from an event I was attending and was pulled over by an officer of the law. He had noticed that I was not wearing my seatbelt--a punishable offense in Washington state and throughout the country. I was angry. Not that I received the ticket but because there is something contradictory in that law that has bothered me for some time.

Whenever Democrats attack the Conservative Republican, and by attack I do mean the hateful things that come out of their mouths, the issue of abortion will always enter the conversation. Now, I am not a Conservative Republican, but I am a Christian. And the issue of abortion is a touchy one. I don't agree that abortion should be used as birth control, as it too often is, but I understand the need for an abortion in those cases where mental strife or physical safety are an issue. The new DNC states that:
"The issue is not abortion," Dean told the closed-door fund-raiser. "The issue is whether women can make up their own mind instead of some right-wing pastor, some right-wing politician telling them what to do."(http://www.ljworld.com/deanfordrudge.html)

Okay Mr. Dean, I will believe you. The issue is whether a woman can make up her own mind instead of some right-wing pastor--sorry pastors but you don't have the right to an opinion because you are ignorant enough to believe in God and Jesus--how silly you are!-- or some right-wing politician telling them what to do. So then Mr. Dean, I am anxiously awaiting your support of a new law that will outlaw mandatory seatbelt laws. Because as I see it, if a woman has the right to potentiall harm her body through an abortion, as well as stop the growth of living organism, regardless of how insignificant you personally believe that embryo is, then damn it, I have the right to potentially die in MY automobile, that I pay for, because I know what is best for me, not some left-wing doctor or some left-wing politician telling me otherwise. It is my body. Don't tell me what to do with it.