boston commoner.

welcome home

In honor of this pinkest and fluffiest of all Hallmark holidays (gag), I’m posting a link to a sermon devoted to the idea of being “in love.” You’ll find it helpful. Click here if you’re interested. *I do, afterall, owe the title of this post to its author.

Now, a disclaimer: I don’t think there is anything wrong in being in love, per se. It can be painful. Agonizing, even! But as most of us know, that’s not always a bad thing. Especially when you’re in love with the right person (read: a person who loves Christ more than he loves you, and is therefore committed to loving you completely, and who is in love with you to top it all off). Now, that’s special. And, frankly, if marriage be on any of my far-off horizons, I can personally say that I serioulsy hope to be deeply in love–at least most of the time–with whomever the Lord puts in my life. Because that would be fun. I think.

But I do agree with the speaker when he says that a biblical marriage is not based on being in love, nor is the the first step of knowing whom to marry being in love. Feeling is far too fickle a thing on which to base such a mammoth committment!

Now, if you ARE in love today, I can’t help but being happy for you. In it’s proper place and boundaries, such feelings comprise one of God’s very special gifts to be enjoyed by His creation.

Happy Love Day!

Psalm 90:10 The days of our years are threescore years and ten; and if by reason of strength they be fourscore years, yet is their strength labour and sorrow; for it is soon cut off, and we fly away.

Psalm 90:12 So teach us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom.

In CREATIVE COUNTERPART, a book mentioned in my last post, the author shares a story about a woman who decided to count up the number of days she’d have left on the earth if she were to live to be 70. Today I’m officially 24 years old, and I decided to try the excersize in honor of the event. Forty-six years sounds like a lot more than a mere 16,801.5 days, doesn’t it? Especially since - as we’ve been so potently reminded by recent world events - there’s no guarantee of having them! And, this time last year, I had over 17,000 days… In another 20 years, there won’t even be 10,000 days left in the countdown. It’s a somewhat sobering thought. (more…)

The other day I was sitting in a Border’s Cafe in New Hampshire with my pastor’s son, Dave, waiting for his sister to get back from a school ski trip so we could head back to Boston. I’d visited their school’s Christian bookstore that day looking for a copy of DISCIPLINES OF A GODLY WOMAN by (I think) Barbara Hughes. I’ve heard good things about that book recently, and thought I’d give it a read. Unfortunately they didn’t have it; they did, however, have a large selection of similar books, and I bought three: A WOMAN’S HIGH CALLING, by Elizabeth George; CREATIVE COUNTERPART, by Linda Dillow; and WOMEN’S MINISTRY HANDBOOK, edited by Carol Porter and Mike Hamel. At the cafe, I started leafing through the books and checking out the chapter headings. I laughed at one point when I mistook a title about loving one’s husband for leaving one’s husband, and told Dave. He laughed too, but then raised his eyebrows and said, “Getting a little ahead of yourself there, aren’t you?”

I guess. (more…)

What I’m about to tell you is scarcely intended to boast of anything. I say and do enough stupid things in a week to know that I am not an unusually bright or intelligent person (note: I’m not begging compliments, either). But, for reasons yet unknown, I graduated second in my class at my public high school, received a book award from Brown University, and all in all had at least a decent shot of getting into one of these high-brow north-eastern institutions of supposedly higher learning. I didn’t go. I’m not saying it would have made me a heathen if I had opted to go; nor am I denegrating by any means people who opt to attend secular universities. In fact, a Christian who is strong in both faith and intellect might do a world of good at a secular, liberal university. Think, “Salt” and “Light.” Someone firmly grounded in Scripture and properly motivated by the love of the gospel message will certainly face some difficulty and opposition in a very leftist academic environment, but will probably come out the other end with even more faith and understanding, not to mention a prestigious degree which he in turn can use to further glorify the Lord. (more…)

My Pastor’s mission recently sent out this note in response to those wishing to donate relief to tsunami victims through a reliable agency. I thought I’d share the opportunity with you:

To the Baptist Mid-Missions Mission family and supporters:

The following information is concerning the needs in Asia due to the recent tsunami disaster. We have received numerous inquiries about our intended response. This is an official and urgent communication that we ask you to forward to your supporters and churches. (more…)

What does one say to the idea–no, to the fact–of 50,000* dead in a moment? When one’s own biggest grief lately has been when to find the time to make holiday returns? Or how to squeeze in an extra half-hour of sleep in the morning? Or the fact that Starbucks has yet to install a drive-through along Route 9 to facilitate the morning commute?

I sicken myself. In my holiday “stress” (please), I hadn’t taken the time to stay abreast of world events. I was late to church Sunday morning, and caught the tail-end of my Pastor’s reminder that, as we closed our first portion of worship with prayer, we ought to pray for this situation in which “these thousands have died.” What thousands? I wondered. I assumed the calamity was Iraq-related. Another offensive. A rebel attack gone awry. Another mistake. “The greatest natural disaster of the millenium” hadn’t crossed my mind. I felt a slight pang of tragedy and prayed quickly and silently for people I didn’t know so as to get back to work preparing the bulletins… (more…)

Well, hi. It’s been a while since I’ve had two seconds together to do anything correspondence-related, including blog. I have yet to mail out Christmas gifts to some very deserving people (sorry Tomania, Katherine, and Quen… If it’s any consolation, the gifts were bought and wrapped before the 25th… That’s the best I can offer!)

Does anyone else feel guilty for feeling happy that Christmas is officially over? Every year I say that THIS is the year that I will relax and get things done ahead of schedule so that I can enjoy this most wonderful of holidays in all proper respects; it seems, however, that THIS year I failed most miserably in doing just that. That’s not to say I didn’t enjoy the holiday. On the contrary. It’s just that I never quite got the feeling that there was any ground beneath my feet. A flying carpet, maybe. Or one of those moving floors like they have in big airports. Or quicksand. In any case, I had no desire to be flying, gliding, or sinking; I wanted to stroll at a liesurely pace, stop and smell the pine trees, and just…be. No such luck. Not much, anyway, but I can take the blame for that. In any case, the ground is stabilizing, slowly but surely, and hopefully things will be solid by…spring? Maybe? Just in time for an Easter thaw? Here’s hoping. (more…)

Well, this is an official Public Thank You Note to Mels.

Mels, I and my toasty-warm feet love you.

For those of you stumped about what to get that hard-to-shop-for friend or loved one, may I make a suggestion??? A Hot Water Bottle (aka, the “HWB") makes a fine gift on any occasion, and though one may at first be at a slight loss at what to do with such a contraption (such a person must not be keeping up with Mels’ blog), he’ll quickly come ’round and see the value of a leak-proof rubber water-balloon. I received a darling, heart-shaped HWB in the mail this weekend, all the way from Germany, and introduced it to my bed sheets and my shivering feet just last night. It was lovely. Really and truly. Not one leak, not one moment of cold-fishy-ness (that thing stayed quite warm for hours!)… At 3:30am I woke from a lovely nightmare about haunted Polish crockery (don’t ask) and couldn’t sleep. I retreated to the couch with a Bible-sized copy of Anna Karenina, a colassal mug of tea, and a refreshed HWB. Worries melt away! Plug in the Christmas tree, light a few candles, read, sip, and enjoy toasty toes. It’s great. Really, you’ve got to try this.

So, Mels, here’s to you and your warm generosity (in getting me a gift at all) and your foresight (in managing to get it to me on TIME…I was proud of myself for just getting those cards out, finally!) and all of your Melsy-ness in general. You’re terrific!

On Thursday, we had services for my grandmother. We called her “Nanny.” Funny, that even amongst family members, people can have different names for a grandmother. My aunt, Karen (her daughter) calls her “Nanna” when referring to her in conversation with us grandkids. Karen is a sweet woman. I wish I knew her better than I do. She has two lovely boys and a kind, gentle husband who I can tell loves her very much, who I like, but I only see them once or twice a year. This year will be one of the “2x” years, because of the funeral. Death shouldn’t be the only thing that brings us together; we will see them over Christmas. It’s a shame that the two events have so closely coincided.

I was dreading Thursday, I’ll admit it. Who wouldn’t? I don’t enjoy the business of death anymore than the rest of you. On the other hand, my grandmother, as was pointed out in the memorial service, had been trapped inside what had become the prison of her mind and body over the past several years, due to Alzheimer’s. Had I any personal assurance that she had indeed trusted Christ as her Savior, her death would have honestly been a time of rejoicing. I hope that my death is a cause of rejoicing amongst my fellow believers, particularly if I am in pain; because I know that in death I will be born into ultimate Life, and be with my King, my Savior, and my God! Don’t cry for me, unless it be tears of joy, for I will be free, and only waiting for you.

But where is joy in the death of one for whom one has no such assurance? And what good is it in gathering around to remember, to deliver platitudes and false hope? It seemed a sham to me, and I felt guilty about this; it also made me think harder about the needs of the dieing around me. Death is important; we all face it - perhaps sooner than later. And Eternity is a long, long time. (more…)

Last Saturday I received mail from Germany, courtesy of our own resident alien, Melanie Suydam (or, Mels, for those of us who know her thus). It wasn’t just any old Christmas card, either; it was an Advent Calendar Christmas card! Last year, I got one from Salzburg; this year, from Hamburg. It’s good to know people in foreign, Christmasy-type countries, who are willing to spend the postage to schick you a little Holiday Cheer :o) (more…)

It’s here again. I haven’t had it in a while. Spurts of desire to hop on a plane and go visit people and places, maybe, but not this deeper, blacker drive to fly away and disappear for a while.

I’ve always had a thing for the idea of traveling. Traveling, as a reality, however, has sometimes proved disappointing. There is so much tourism. Everywhere you go, you run into packs of American high-schoolers on Senior trips. In Rome, they lined all of the sight-worthy fountains. They were throwing stuff in, laughing at their amazing wit in contriving such an original diversion from the ancient city. In the Alps, it was said that you could always pick out the Americans on the slopes; they were the ones in the blue jeans (ha ha ha! ho ho ho!). I asked my boss if people could tell so easily that I was American. They said, “Not so much.” Must be the perpetually chubby face. Someone told me I have the face of a Dutch milkmaid. In Salzburg I was sick for three weeks and couldn’t eat, and when I finally came to and could receive visitors, the women stared at my cheeks and said, “You’ve lost weight… You’re pretty!” They were surprised. Astonished, actually. As if I’d been pulling a fast ugly one on them all that time. Women are always blaming men for their eating disorders, but I think we do it to each other. I was afraid to ingest anything beyond clear soup and tea for another week and a half after those well-meant comments. (more…)

I know I should be thankful that I even have a job. A relatively easy, flexible job at that; one that affords me time to sit here and do this whole blogging thing in the first place. And I am, I guess. Thankful, that is. When I think about it. Which I should do more often. But I hate my alarm clock. Hate it hate it hate it.

Why am I so tired? I feel like I got old all of the sudden, within a matter of weeks; my hands dried out, I started longing for bed at around 9:30pm, and can suddenly no longer tolerate spinach. And I like spinach! My stomache reminds me, however, that no matter when, where, or how I eat it, that I simply oughtn’t. Sad.

I think I can blame the dry hands on the diving temperatures and my over-heated apartment. The tiredness… Well, blame that on poor time management and the frustrating nature of life in general. I guess. But this issue with the spinach… That’s just about aging. Pretty soon it will be nothing but creamed corn and pepto bismol. And what is with this cherry-floavored pepto bismol, all of the sudden? Ack. Not that I’ve tried it. Yet. But as I said, it’s only a short matter of time.

I “visited” my apartment for the first time last week this past Saturday. You can imagine the pile of bills and other junk mail that tumbled out of my post box when I was finally able to check it. Among these was my first electricity bill. I was too busy to open it that night, so I stuck it in my bag along with my latest bank statement, a new writing magazine (I’ve yet to crack the front cover), and my unopened car insurance bill. Out of sight, out of mind? I don’t think so. That night I had a dream. Actually, it was more like a nightmare. It featured an electricity bill in the amount of $360.00. Yes, I remember. It came with an itemized list of charges for “special parts.” I don’t know what the special parts were, but such is the nature of night horrors. (more…)

A recent post about personality types on Meanderings got me thinking about this song we used to sing at my old church in Sunday School, Children’s Church, and other kids’ ministries:

He’s still workin’ on me

To make me what I ought to be.

It took Him just a week to make the moon and the stars,

the sun and the earth and Jupiter and Mars.

How loving and patient He must be,

‘cause He’s still workin’ on me. (more…)

I haven’t seen my poor little apartment all week. I have been home helping my mom, who has her own busy schedule at this time of year, by watching my younger brother in the evenings. It doesn’t make sense to go back to Boston just to sleep and wake and come back here at 8am, so I’ve been sleeping here, instead. Saves gas money and morning aggrevation. Kind of. Anyway, a couple of days ago I caught the tail-end of a news report about an apartment building that burnt down in Boston since I’ve been away. I seriously wondered for a while if it was my building. I’m still not sure it wasn’t. If it were, it would make last weekend’s fiasco look like a walk in the park. But we’ll cross that bridge if we come to it… (more…)

It was one just of those weekends. We’ve all had them. Some more than others, and some to greater extents. At any rate, we can all relate to those days, weeks, months, in which it seems nothing will jive, when life has cosmically alligned the great bulk of the month’s responsabilities with a series curve balls and minor, but time-consuming inconveniences to converge on one important weekend. And even though you volunteered yourself for most of those responsabilities, you didn’t see it coming. It hits you hard, several times, sqaure in the nose, until it runs out of destructible tissue and decides to attack your ears, eyes, jaw bone… When it decides you’re almost beyond suffering, it comes in for a final blow to the temple, but by then you’re not really feeling it anymore.

My temple blow came last night on my way home from our Sunday evening Bible studies, in the form of a red battery light on my dashboard, a rather unorthodox “clunk” under my hood, and an overheated engine. We were in Allston, at that point. The tow cost 150 smackers. (more…)

1) A Miracle on 34th Street (Admittedly not my favorite, or even a holiday necessity, but I needed a 10th, and we have to start somewhere.)

2) Frosty the Snowman ("Happy… B-b-birth-day!")

3) Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer (If only to make fun of the wool-and-clay animee.)

4) The Homecoming (A Walton Family Christmas…"G’night, John-Boy!")

5) Scrooge (The Albert Finney version, of course.)

6) White Christmas (Because Bing Crosby looks like my Grampa.)

7) How the Grinch Stole Christmas (MUST be the old-school version, complete with songs and funky, 70’s-style, psychadelic color schemes.)

8) Merry Christmas, Charlie Brown ("Loo, loo, LOOOOO, loo, loo, LOO LOO loo (gasp) LOO LOO LOOOOOOO loo loo loo loooo…")

9) It’s a Wonderful Life (Jimmy Stewart is my hero.)

10) And last but definitely not least… A Christmas Story ("You’ll shoot you’re eye out, kid!"… “Jinger Bears, Jinger Bears, Jinger Are da Raaaay!"…I could go on…and on and on…this is my all-time favorite Christmas Comedy Classic. It just isn’t Christmas with Ralphy.)

Well, for any of you who’ve recently visited Mels’ recent post on the subject (and many of you have), the title for this post makes perfect sense.

About 20 minutes into this morning’s commute, the first flakes fell. Well, they were more like fuzzy raindrops, but you could tell by the way they dispersed on the windshield that they were at least partly flake. Saturday’s forecast: Snow, snow, snow. Seems we’re getting an early start :o) (more…)

Some people are too talented for words. I’m not one of them, but Melita Matzko is. Here’s one of her recent cityscape photos.

Have a wonderful weekend, folks!

Well, I have to hand it to Kerry. He had the opportunity, under law, to drag this thing out for another 11 days, despite the fact that a win was, apparently, a mathematical impossibility by earlier this morning. But he spared us all this horrible fate, wrapping things up with a simple phone call. It’s kind of..fun? funny? horribly sad?…to hear what some of his disappointed supporters have to say about things now. And I don’t mean that to sound remotely vindictive. But, for example, one news clip just revealed a Boston woman’s deep thoughts and political analysis on the election outcome:

“I’m..I’m sad, because…because…I wanted Kerry to win, and I mean…well, I think we’re held hostage by conservative terrorists, in my opinion…”

Ummm… My guess is that she was one of the democratic supporters vehemently advocating that America set aside its electoral college system and elect by popular vote this time. She was probably sure that if we did so, Bush would lose (he would have in 2000, apparently, had overall popular vote been the standard for election). But Bush WON the popular vote this year. Indisputably. So my question is, who are these conservative terrorists??? It seems that the election was fair, and that President Bush won, either way, justly; while the election was very close, “democracy” has declared itself a winner. (more…)

Okay, just some quick alerts and apologies with which to start off the month:

1) ALERT: Her name is Sherry Dubois. Maybe you know her? She’s one of the most amazing people I’ve ever met, particularly gifted in the area of foreign languages, administrations in general, and making me crack up ALL THE TIME :o) In the side-splitting sense, of course. I know her as Olga des Waldes, ex-german-class buddy extraordinaire, but she wears many hats – ‘Blogger’ being the latest addition to her cap collection. Check out her thoughts here. I think you might need to register to post a comment, but it only takes a second; I promise you, Olga will NOT let you down! She doesn’t know the meaning of the word entaeuscht.

2)APOLOGY: I was offline all weekend and utterly appalled at the number of spam comments that wormed their way into my blog while I was gone. I updated my “spam words” list and hopefully that will take care of the immediate problem. I’m aware that any of you who posted previously probably received those ads in your inboxes, and I’m mortified. Thankfully, this particular spam wasn’t vulgar, just ittitating; in either case, I do want you to know that I’m working on making this blog as spam-proof as possible. I hope this episode doesn’t dicourage your commenting in the future!

That’s it for now! Enjoy your Erste November!

I apologize for the wacked-out heading/banner/color scheme/thing. I have no idea what I’m doing. It’s like trying to remove my own thymus gland without knowing what or where a thymus gland is (or what the results of removing it will be). But it’s kind of fun. Trial and error. And at least it’s my own thymus gland, and not somebody else’s, because that would be scarier. All I really wanna do is make my blog look nearly as cool as Kammer’s or Gwen’s (or any number of blogs on bensfriends); they’ve got the thymus removal down pat…

About an hour-and-half ago, I received a call from my mother. She said that my brother had never shown up for his after-school program, and that he was therefore ‘among the missing.’ Would I mind driving over to see if the bus had dropped him at home?

She was remarkably calm. I, on the other hand, came very close to having a mental breakdown. Yes, I was slightly hysterical. I admit it. But the Lord kept me together long enough to get me into my driveway, where my brother’s bus was waiting. He was fine. I checked. Twice.

Losing my brother is on my top-3 list of things that I truly believe would crack me. I hate to admit that, because sometimes I feel like saying we can’t handle something is inviting some kind of proofing-time to come to instruct us that we can handle anything, in the Lord. And then I feel guilty for thinking that the Lord works that way. I don’t mind being shown that I can handle anything in Christ, I suppose (easy enough to say, though I don’t wish for such proof); yet, the thing I find troubling is that someone like my brother might suffer in order to teach me a lesson. (more…)

By the way, thank you Joy, from whose blog I ripped off the idea and the link for a handy clock on my sidebar. I had to have one, especially when I saw they had one that fit my color scheme :o) Check out her blog—it’s full of great writing, interesting photos, and intellectually and spiritually-stimulating discussions!

Everyone loves a frivilous online quiz. According to this one, I’m like an angel. That said, I probably don’t need to point out the obvious the lack of biblical or even practical accuracy of this particular one, but maybe some of you might be interested to find out your supposed kinship fairies, dragons, or mermaids…

My rather far-fetched results:

You’re like an angel. As everyone knows, angels dwell in heaven. They were desribed as shining ones wearing white and the idea that they have wings is believed as well. Guardian angels are the ones that many people think are dead loved ones who try to protect the living friends or family they have on Earth. They usually had blonde hair and maybe brown with flawless appearance and sweet dispositions. They were cheerful, hopefull, selfless, loving, and kind [truncated].
What Mystical Creature Are You? (Pictures)
brought to you by Quizilla

So, have you ever had one of those days? As in, a Friday before a long weekend, after a harried week of trying to hold the office together while your boss is away, while simultaneously trying to move into a new apartment in the city and start a new blog?

I know, I know…cry me a river, and what-not. But I promise, I’m not complaining! The week has been full of blessings. Like, waking up in the city, with the sunrise–in a place of one’s own–and contributing to the 7am pulse of the urban morning commute; like the first frost on pumkins, and mugs of tea, and crisp, magenta leaves; like finding out that CSS is not SO scarey, after all; like having visitors peek at my blog. I love it when you visit my blog :o)

So how can I complain?

Still, it is a Friday before a long weekend, after a long week. And in just 4 minutes, I’ll be free! Free! Free to buy paint and area rugs and silverware for my new place! Free to go to Friday night Bible study and expand my mind and spirit! Free to put a basket on my head and do a jolly jig! Like these two!

That’s how Chiara and Luisa, my two German charges from my days as an Au Pair in DE, celebrate time off. So, how do you unwind?

Last year at this time, I was just returning to Hamburg, Germany, after spending 3 months in Salzburg, Austria. I was lamenting the fact that I’d somehow managed to corrupt my digital camera’s memory card and lose almost all of the videos and photos I’d captured of the beautiful Salzburg ‘Altstadt’ (the old part of the city). I had nothing to show my friends and family, save a few touristy postcards I’d managed to buy at the train station before leaving. Justslightly disappointing…

Weeks after my return to the States last October, I decided to fiddle with that memory card with the aid of my computer to see if anything could be salvaged. Several attempts proved futile, but I tried one last time. I opened the card file and clicked randomly on a series of folders, all bearing tech-y labels I didn’t understand. I was sure that whatever had happened to the card, I was only making it worse. And then, suddenly,a series of thumbnails appeared. Thumbnails of Salzburg photos! Photos I’d spent hours in the chilly rain trying to capture! They weren’t all there, but my favorite—my absolute, all-time, I-can’t-believe-I-had-anything-to-do-with-that favorite—photo was finally within my grasp.

I thought I’d share. It evokes a certain mood, doesn’t it?

I found this note in the margin of my Bible yeterday as I was reading through the beginning of the book of Romans:

“The Gospel: the WORD Incarnate. We introduce a person, not a plan. We should talk about Him, not us or what we need to do. (Bixby*)”

And, no, this is NOT an endorsement of a “let go and let God” philosophy… (more…)

This is what happens when you lease a new apartment and start a blog in the same week: you have trouble moving into both of them, and hope no one sees either one! At least, not until you have a chance to clean them up and make them your own. That said, this blog is in far better shape than said new apartment, and if you insist on visiting one or the other, you’ve made a good choice by coming here. Nonetheless, I apologize for the general lack of content at the moment, and hope that by the next time you stumble onto my doorstep, I have a little more to offer you. Until then, enjoy what’s here!