Disclaimer

Please, read my previous post. I strongly believe in adopting more eco-friendly attitudes and habits. It's urgent, really. But in regard to what I have written, I feel compelled to point out a few things concerning God and nature.

First: Each of us exists within the rhythm of the planet.

This is not an atheistic or pantheistic statement. I do not suggest that everything is not ultimately governed by God. God created the heavens and the earth--we know this all the way from Genesis 1:1--but He also designed them to work in a very specific way. Thousands of years have told us that the earth tilts in predictable patterns to bring us further from and closer to the sun, creating the seasons. They have also told us that the tide changes every six hours, that hurricanes come in September, that rainfall is abundant in some climates and haphazard in others. Obviously, the planet has fallen into a rhythm. And while God could rock the entire world in a fraction of a second, history dictates that He has more or less allowed the world to persist according to His original design.

Second: To my brothers and sisters in Christ out there, environmentalism is not something to be wary of. In fact, I believe that the commission to cultivate the land and to oversee all the creatures of the earth, which God gave to Adam in the beginning, still stands for us today. God created this world, and He created it for us to enjoy. The world is fallen, but we still live here, right? I cannot believe that God's desire would be for us to simply drop the ball when it comes to being stewards of His creation.

Puffins are pretty funny looking birds, right? Did you know that puffins are nearly extinct? They have been protected over the past several decades, and at last count 52 puffin pairs were inhabiting their natural home near Eastern Egg Rock, off the coast of Maine. Puffins were once a thought in the mind of God, and He put them in this world, with their funny faces and comically enormous bills, for a reason. I don't think He wants puffins to die from the face of the planet due to our lack of sight or concern. Everything God put here was a creative thought that He made a living, breathing, beautiful organism--and every natural thing on this earth, in some way, gives us a glimpse into the mind of God Himself. I know that conservation is not a traditional Christian value, especially in today's world. After all, one day Jesus will come back and this earth will perish. But none of us know the hour of His return, so let's not bank on it being before we've wrecked His creation completely. We're still responsible for caring for what He's given us.

Third: Someone told me once to avoid "falling more in love with the works of the Lord than with the Lord of the works." This is a genuine struggle for me, because I see awe and beauty in all of nature, and I enjoy this relationship. But this beauty and this awe are of the Lord Himself, and none other. So for those of you who know me, this is not only to remind you but to remind myself as well, that in the end, all of my heart is for God. I relate to God very intimately through nature, but nonetheless nature is not the end--God is the end. I am thankful for His creation and I do want to protect it and be always aware of it, but that must come after my relationship with God Himself. After all, "the grass withers, the flower fades, but the word of our God stands forever." (Isaiah 40:8)

A Malignant Attitude

Each of us exists within the rhythm of the planet.

Whether we like it or not, I believe that all actions must be governed by the design of nature... or our earth will die. The thought of our world becoming virtually uninhabitable can seem a very distant and surreal concept, but it rings with a greater imminence than we realize. I see the quality of life on earth becoming poorer and poorer, notwithstanding what conventional statistics suggest. Perhaps I can look forward to a lifespan of 90, 100, even more. But do I want to exist on a planet where polar ice caps have melted away, remaining forestlands have been leveled, and the balance of the seasons has been dramatically realigned toward unbearable heat? Can I really enjoy a place where I know that animals are being tremendously abused and once fertile soil is being irrevocably stripped of all its nutrients to put a mass-produced and genetically modified dinner on my plate?

It is time for all of us to step into a role of greater awareness and sensibility toward the plight of the dramatically underrepresented natural environment. I applaud my friends who abstain from using their ovens in the summertime, instead focusing their meals around chilled salads and soups and exotic, sweet summer fruits and vegetables. I respect those who can live without tomatoes in the winter--for how many pounds of carbon dioxide were released into the atmosphere to transport that tomato from the tropics all the way to your grocery bag? I support the health food store that encourages the use of canvas shopping bags, and facilitates the recycling of those horribly inefficient plastic grocery bags that many supermarkets plow through at nauseating speeds. I thank the driver who makes a concerted effort to stay within the speed limit, knowing that the fuel economy of his car drops of drastically at speeds above 55 mph.

Over thousands of years, human beings have attempted to create their own rhythms by which to live. The problem is, there is no rhythm to how we choose to live our lives today. We live however we wish, whenever we wish. We pay no attention to the dictates of the seasons, nor to the beautifully orchestrated patterns of native plants and animals within each particular region. And so we strain the earth by consuming more energy, we strain the soil and the water supply and the local ecosystem by introducing nonnative species. And we do it without hesitation, without consideration as to the repercussions of our supposed benign actions.

I walked outside this morning into a world immersed in gray. From somewhere far beyond the low quilt of clouds overlying my world, I heard a muffled rumbling of the heavens. And I was reminded that mankind does not have the final dictate as to the condition of the world. There is always something far greater than us at work, and our meddling with the design of nature can only cause ruin. Too often we follow our own designs and desires, and close our eyes and ears to the blatant signals that beg attention toward the mess we are making. But we cannot live this way with impunity forever. Instead we must hear the rolling thunder and respond, all the while respecting that we are not sovereign in this world.

One of the simplest and greatest books ever written, The Lorax by Dr. Seuss, commissions us succintly and eloquently to look further ahead with the following poignant declaration:

"Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot,
Nothing is going to get better. It's not."

As I walked to class this morning, I was glad to have brought my umbrella.

A rough but good beginning

School starts tomorrow, which I am not excited about. It's not the worst thing, but certainly not as good as doing all the things I love to do--writing, reading, Pilates, cooking, even working in a real accounting job. But it will be okay, as soon as I get back into the proper mindset.

When school starts, Wesley starts too. And that's a nicer thing to look forward too. We went on the leadership retreat this weekend, and I really didn't want to go at first. But as I got back into worshiping God and praying with the undivided heart that I should have had all summer, I realized that I'm just letting my personal fears get in the way of what I love--communion with God. Bob is working at Wesley this year, and I really am excited about the year. I grow so much when my heart is in it, and I have so much joy when I don't let it slip away from me.

I realized that much of the depression that I went through this past year was rooted in my being afraid to be different. But the fact is, I am different from a lot of college kids--I'm married, I study a lot, I am a vegan, I don't really wear make-up or fix my hair or anything that even my best friends spend their time on. I am comfortable with who I am, but I often feel estranged, no matter what group I am with at the moment. I feel understood very little--perhaps only by my husband sometimes. And since I am a person who values very close connections with people, it is scary to feel alone.

But I understand now that I let myself assume the worst about other people's thoughts of me. While I know that my close friends love who I am and will never judge me or condemn me, I let thoughts sneak in that tell me my friends aren't interested in me anymore, or that they think I'm making bad choices. And in the Christian community I am a part of at Wesley, though many of my values are different, I have to remind myself that they don't think I'm not good enough to be a part of them. These are the very same things that have haunted me my entire life, and I have to get over them.

I have to get over my need for validation from others. It's nice to receive encouragement, but I should not need it to feel worthy of love and friendship and acceptance. And I should not have to feel constant pressure to please my friends, please my parents (I don't even know why this is an issue anymore), please anyone. And I know that I shouldn't be under this pressure. Why do I let myself sway to it, like a feeble pine tree in a gale storm? Am I not a stronger person than that? Was I not created for more?

I was created for more than that. I was created to live in complete freedom, to have joy, to love and be loved, to be always enfolded in the arms of God. And these are the things I long for and pray for. I have a long way to go, but I am optimistic. Because every day I draw my strength from the God who knows my inmost being... the same God who knows every grain of sand on the beach... the same God who died in my stead and was powerful enough to defeat death forever. And I know He is on my side. And I know He longs to be closer to me.

There is a song that changed my life when I was in high school. It is by Michael W. Smith.

This is your time, this is your dance
Live every moment, leave nothing to chance
Swim in the sea, drink of the deep
Embrace the mystery of all you can be
This is your time

What can I be? I can be more than a broken, sad, inward-focused woman who cannot get past her own shortcomings. I can be more than a fearful girl who feels condemned by all the world. And I denounce these things in my life. And I refuse to live under their oppressive power. And I draw near to God, and I know that He will draw near to me.

I continue on... I fight the good fight. And I know that I am never alone.

Descent At Dawn

When the mind is pried open,
nothing is real or false
and all else smears into sepia.

The long, heavy sighs of the ignorant
in flux with the waves
behind the shutters--
deeply rooted in time-circles
and phantasmal places made up
(or forgotten?)
and colors
that stream like chalk in the storm
that was sure to come.

And then...
Rays upon the eyes
and cold feet on the hard old floor,
a knick and a shave...
and rubber oatmeal with stale, steamy coffee.

Genius
effaced like the star that blazed
ten million miles through heaven
and flickered and sank silent beneath the margin of sky.

Goodbye, K-man

Our good friend, Kevin, is gone. Not forever--thank goodness. For a year. In Mexico. Teaching English with the Marist Volunteers. He's a wholehearted Catholic. I think that's awesome.

Bob and I visited him on Friday night, the day before he flew out. Kevin is one of those rare friends with whom all the time you spend is quality; he never lets a moment filter through the sieve of idleness. That is perhaps one of the qualities I, and Bob, admire in him the most. That, and his tolerance and open-minded spirit towards new thoughts. I know with all my heart that he loves Jesus, but he is so unlike other conservative Christians that it is refreshing just to be around him. When we told him that we had gone vegan, I was at first taken aback that he didn't react with surprise. But then he commented later: "I just assumed you were vegan in the first place."

That night we watched with him Diarios de motocicleta, or The Motorcycle Diaries. What a good film. I knew nothing about Che Guevara before I watched it, but it made me really interested in him. Kevin, he has such a strong heart for Latin America--like Bob and I do for France. After the movie we took a long walk, and it was so fun to just hear him talk about the political situation in Cuba, as if he was an authority. I just drunk it all in. The night was warm and comfortable and dark, and it is always refreshing to share such times with friends. We got lost among the neighborhood streets, and followed our instincts eventually back to the right road home.

We stayed up talking so late. Bob had to leave early in the morning, but we ignored that fact as long as possible, just talking about all the world with our friend. He wants to start a commune in North Carolina, where his girlfriend has several acres of good fertile land. How much would Bob and I love that kind of life! We said we would join them, if they ever were able to get it in motion. As it is, I am stuck in a stuffy city with no room for a garden. Making my life and raising my kids in a rural place with good earth and friends would be an utopia for me... But Kevin is idealistic. Perhaps the commune will pan out one day.

Once we got back to his basement we talked about God and Cuba and mangos and everything in between. Finally it got really late, and I said we should probably go. I looked up at Kevin, who was sitting across the room, and said "We're going to miss you, Kevin." My voice broke. Then an amazing thing happened: Kevin came over to the couch where Bob and I were sitting, and the three of us just prayed and sat in silence and hugged and cried (well, maybe the crying was mostly me) and shared our hearts for several long, peaceful moments. We prayed blessings over one another. Praise God for friends like that.

Our hearts were so full when we left Kevin's house that night. It's so hard to say goodbye to someone with whom you have shared so many special times in your life. As we drove home, I thanked God that wherever Bob and I go in our lives, we will go side by side.

Being home

I got back to Athens on Saturday. The last few days have been weird, frustrating, exhausting, and fun all at the same time. For one thing, I have still not finished unpacking--there was a lot of work to do at home, and I've been trying to clean up what's here before dumping a whole lot of new stuff into the mix. For another, Bob is working all week, in addition to this past weekend and this coming weekend. Seven days a week. So it's kind of lonely around here. In addition, I have not been sleeping regularly. I could not sleep last night because I was so exhausted yesterday afternoon that I took a three and a half hour nap.

On a brighter note, one of my close friends came over yesterday and we got to spend some time together. It's so good to spend quality time with people you really know and trust. We talked for so long that I forgot to make lunch for us (as was the original plan). She'll be working with Bob at the Wesley Foundation this year. Several of my friends will be there. I wish I could be doing that too...

Well, since this is my last year in Athens, I really want to have a good time here while I still can. I've spent so much of the past two years locking myself inside and studying, and I really want to take it a little bit easier. I'm usually not one for making to-do lists, but this is different. Here are just some things I'd like to make a point of doing this year, before it's too late:

1. Hang out with my accounting friends and not do accounting
2. Go see live music more often
3. Go to more literary events (poetry readings? I'm so there...)
4. Enter the Honors Program art show this fall
5. Submit my writing to Stillpoint Literary Magazine here on campus
6. Go on more dates with Bob downtown
7. Go to Krush Girls with my friends
8. See Michael Stipe downtown (okay, maybe this one is just wishful thinking)
9. Study at the Botanical Gardens
10. Walk to Earth Fare once a week
11. Work out at the Ramsey Center regularly

That's a pretty good start, I think. There is so much to see and do here, and I want to see it and do it while I can. Not that I think I've wasted my time in Athens--I've done lots of fun things. But after May, I'll never be a college student again. I really want this to be a good, memorable year.


I am reading The Heart of a Distant Forest now by Philip Lee Williams. It's really enthralling--it's hard to put down. His writing is so beautiful... I can't wait to finish it. In fact, I'm going to go read it for a while now--at least until I fall asleep (I'm feeling a little drowsy again).