cuz it's prettier, it flows better, and it's unexpected. kinda.
November 2005 Archives
Thanksgiving is an odd holiday, because we purposefully make ourselves sick. My family exercised so much this past weekend that we were often too tired to eat. And then when we did eat, we stuffed ourselves silly. Thank God the means to that uncomfortable end are filled with delights. I love food. In the unlikely event that we don't get to eat good food in heaven, I don't know what I'm going to do with myself.
Now I am back in Boston for a good month before I rejoin the fam for Christmas. Having shuttled myself to the South twice this month, I am more and more conscious of the grumpiness of New Englanders compared to the indiscriminate cheerfulness of Southerners. Dr. Foreman once explained the phenomenon according the seasons: fall is brilliant here, but is followed immediately by winters to end all winters (winters that endure until the end of May), whereas in the South, spring is in a class by itself, and what do we get after that? That's right - summer! So naturally our spirits are lifted as the seasons progress in the south, while they have nowhere to go but down here in Boston.
At any rate, I'm going to brave impending rain and attend the "lighting of Copley Square" tomorrow evening. I'm anticipating a visit from the mayor, free clam chowder, and colorful lights to soften any stone-cold Bostonian's heart. Welcome, Christmas season.
"There's nothing like death to expose and challenge our unbelief."
I think that's how pastor Gary Purdy put it. I've thought more about heaven this past week than I ever have, since my great uncle Rudy died last Wednesday. He seemed immortal, and yet God snatched him home to heaven. Someone in my family mused that Uncle Rudy's body was "hijacked" by leukemia, and yet God claimed him in the end. He's shamed death. Such a comforting thought.
Beyond the reality of Uncle Rudy's lifeless body in the casket, though, what made me feel heaven the most was the presence of the family of God. In a rare moment a human will get a glimpse of eternity, a part of a song or the words of a friend that make time stand still, transcending the here and now. For me, it was the whole weekend in one fell swoop. The generosity of everyone in the community reached beyond my expectations. Marching slowly down the aisle to spoken Scripture, and back down out to the tune of an old spiritual, the sympathetic eyes of hundreds of onlookers upon us - these are the kinds of people with whom I'll spend eternity, and this is almost what heaven will be like. Rejoicing that sin and death are defeated because of God's grace. We do that now, but will still have bitterness and mourning. In that time there will be no bitterness and mourning. Our happiness will be that much greater because we've known sin and death but no longer have to endure it.
Well, I went there (to Chattavegas) and am now back again. Part 2 happens when I go back on Tuesday for Thanksgiving. For now, I'm enjoying this interim time with my housemates and Lucy, who just took a bath and no longer reeks. Our neighbor John came up to visit Keri and I for a little while this evening. He's such pleasant company. Just returned from a "vacation" to Israel and fortunately not in a bodybag. The most violence he heard or saw was gunfire on the streets Jerusalem as he sipped a cappuccino on the balcony of an Austrian hospice. He plans to go with us to the Iron and Wine/Calexico concert in December. Thank God for musically like-minded friends.
I received this in the mail at work today - a financial group's attempt to be as vague and wordy as possible:
Our client has retained us to resolve the outstanding indebtedness, which they show delinquent.
Ugh. What's even worse is how he signs it off: "very truly yours."
I hate business language.
