About Time

I know what you’re thinking. You’re rejoicing that I have finally gotten around to posting a new blog. Not because you are riveted by my every post, but because you are just sooo tired of seeing my cats.

Well, so was I.

There really are any number of things I could have blogged about between then and now. My brother came home from a three-month-stint in Texas, for one. He subsequently went with me to the movies, me for the first time since Narnia, to see “V for Vendetta.” Could have done a whole post on that. Kyle then proceeded to get me hooked on Firefly, the Best Canceled Show In Existence. I could go on about that as well…but I won’t. I also keep toying with the idea of doing a MacGyver Tribute…but alas, that too will have to wait.

Really, this post is about one thing: celebration. That’s right. Not only is today Easter (or as we call it in my house, ‘Resurrection’), the day celebrating Christ’s triumph over death (Hallelujah!), but it is also the end of Lent. Woo hoo!

Those last few days were really hard, because the end was in sight. And also because I could not believe it had been so stinkin’ long since I’d picked up a book.

The first thing I did this morning was crack open Blue Like Jazz while I was in the bathroom (where my mother left it after she finished; our shared loo is a veritable library. You wouldn’t believe it.). I’ve already read it, but it just felt so good to be holding a book in my hands again.

After that, I went straight up to my room and compiled a stack of books to last me the next few weeks. (I didn’t trust myself to do it on my fast.) First on my list, by Brianne’s recommendation, is Velvet Elvis by Rob Bell. Just below that is a YA novel I picked up at that garage sale earlier this month, called The Boggart, by Susan Cooper—good fluff reading. Plus, they go to Scotland!!! My internal list is very long, but as I’ve been so deprived, I probably will read what ever I feel like, whenever. I’m working the closing shift at the coffee shop tomorrow, and it will be so nice to have a book during those slow hours. My only trouble will be deciding which book to take with me!!

So, what exactly did I learn during the last 47 days? Discipline is hard. I generally don’t have enough of it. Obedience is costly, as Oswald Chambers would say. I really don’t know what else I learned…or if I was meant to. Will I ever do it again? Well…a month and a half is a long chunk of time out of every year to not be reading. But that bottom line is, if I get the nudge again, of course I will. The whole thing was an exercise in obedience to Christ—sacrificing something to show homage to He who is truly Lord of my life. Why else would I give up reading for 47 days??? Y

47

Today, as you may or may not know, is Ash Wednesday. The first Day of Lent.

Now, when I was growing up, my churches never really did much with Lent. I was never encouraged to give up anything. I think it was generally considered a Catholic practice. It wasn’t until College that I ever really even paid attention to this season on the Church calendar. My freshman year, three friends and I all decided to give up sweets. That’s a pretty popular choice these days. It was hard, and I remember we had trouble with grey areas like sugary cereal and pop-tarts. But we did it.

I had one professor at C of O who was particularly in tune with the practices of the church, whether ancient, modern, contemporary, or postmodern. My senior year I took his class on Christian Worship and the class was divided into groups (were we in the same group Brianne? I completely forget!) to prepare and provide a Lenten service, one group a week. Again, prior to that, I’d never really paid a whole lot of attention to Church seasons, least of all Lent.

At the beginning of this year, I was reading a book I got for Christmas. It was Lauren Winner’s Girl Meets God. (Yes, the same Lauren Winner I got to meet and hear at Jubilee as I discussed in my last post.) She writes from a background in the Jewish Orthodoxy and mentions how they use a calendar of seasons to guide their worship. Most churches don’t seem to do this as much anymore…but her current church, which is Episcopalian, does. It was one of the reasons she was drawn to it.

There is a chapter in GMG where Lauren relates a conversation with her pastor just before Lent. He asks her what she is giving up; she tells him she’s going to fast on Fridays. He then asks her to give up something in addition: books.

When I read that, two things happened to me.

One was, I think my heart stopped. I was dismayed beyond words at the thought of giving up something like that.

The second thing was, I felt a nudge from the Holy Spirit.

Now, if you’ve ever felt this kind of nudge, you know what I mean. It’s a kind of spiritual elbow to the ribs. I’ve felt it before; it usually accompanies something I really don’t want to do. Something I feel I shouldn’t have to do. Something I could probably justify not doing. But when you get that nudge, there’s really only a couple options: obey, or disobey.

I know from past experiences with the said nudges, that if I do the thing I don’t want to, if I obey, it is usually to my benefit. It might be hard, even painful, but good comes out of it.

So I began by telling my family I was giving up reading books for Lent. They responded with surprise, even a little skepticism (as I said, we never did much with Lent) but eventually encouragement. I told Brianne; she too was encouraging but also a little surprised. If you know me at all, you know I read. If you know me well, you know I devour books. I read all the freaking time. I always seem to have a book stashed somewhere—in the bathroom, in stacks by my bed, in my purse….

But I know that God is not just calling me to give up reading because it takes up so much of my time. I know it has to do with obedience, and keeping my love of books from becoming idolatry. So I will be obedient. It is nerve-wracking, quite frankly, to realize that I will not be picking up and reading any book at all (except the Bible) for the next 47 days. Especially after I bought all those books at Jubilee. I already have a considerable list accumulating of books to read when Lent is over.

It sounds crazy, even to me. But I don’t share this story to say “look how holy I am,” I share it so that you can participate by encouraging me. This will be a challenge, I know, and it’s only day one. You can pray for me, that in the absence of my reading God will show me what he wants me to learn, and that I won’t just fill it with something else. Like TV. Even though I did just get season 4 of MacGyver.

Books are a big, dare I even say HUGE, part of my life; but God must be bigger still. I look forward to this time of Lent with anticipation and trepidation both; who can say but God how I will emerge? What will God teach me in the next 47 days, about discipline, obedience, and grace? Well, when I find out, so will you! 

Steeler Nation

Well, tonight marks a milestone in my life: for the first time ever in my 26 years, I actually sat down and watched the Super Bowl—first to fourth quarter.

I am admittedly not the biggest football fan, despite my dad’s attempts at indoctrination. But here I am in Pittsburgh, where I have lived the last almost four years. I’ve lived all over the country, and I have never, ever lived anywhere that went so nuts for a football team. It’s quite infectious. Pittsburgh loves the Steelers. And it’s easy to see why: the guys—quite aside from their athletic prowess—are great guys.

I have said many times in my life that I can’t get into sports games, unless I have some kind of emotional connection to the players. Well, it finally happened in a national game, which I never thought it would. And usually, I go for the underdog. I also usually go against the tide. But…we really do have some great guys out here. I personally voted for Hines Ward for MVP on superbowl.com during the fourth quarter. And can you believe that Ben Roethlisberger is only 23???

I even donned black and gold for the occasion. You really can’t get by in Pittsburgh if you don’t; even in church this morning my mom said people were wearing jerseys. I’m telling you, it’s insane out here. Black and gold has been everywhere for the last two weeks, and every other marquis down the road had a “Go Steelers” or “one for the thumb” message. (Btw, in case you’re as uninformed as I am, that means because they won their fifth championship game, they got a fifth ring—for the thumb.)

Just one more thought: they always say that one of the best parts of the SuperBowl is the commercials. Of course there was the really fun "Addicted to Lost" commerial, but did anyone notice the MacGyver MasterCard commercial? I was like, *insert surprised noise here*? I had to rewatch it. Go, Mac! Still so cool. (But getting old. :( That was why I didn’t quite recognize him at first.) Thank you, MasterCard, for recognizing the greatness of a true TV hero.

And thank you, Steelers, for bringing home the trophy for all your fans. Pittsburgh is now officially Steeler Nation.

What's a Girl to Do?

So…I’m sick. Yesterday afternoon I was serving lattes and biscotti to people who are probably now starting to get scratchy throats. I actually took the day off—not something I normally do. I don’t generally like the idea that I’m replaceable, that the gap I’d leave if I wasn’t there to do my duties might be filled by anyone else. Anal, huh? Bet you didn’t think I was the type.

Well, I didn’t really get much in the way of a weekend, between my two jobs and my volunteering…so today was my Sunday, my Day of Rest, my Day of Recuperation. I slept in, putzed around, and most blissfully watched MacGyver Season Three episodes. Then my mom came home (with pizza and salt-n-vinegar chips!!) and we had a Veronica Mars marathon (I’m really liking that show!). It was a nice day, aside from all the coughing, congestion, and fatigue. Man, I really sound like a wimp. Hm. Something about being sick brings out the baby in me. Maybe I’m not as tough as I’d like to be, after all.

I wish, for example, that I was tough like Sydney or Veronica. Now there’s a pair of girls who know how to get things done. Whatever it takes, whatever the stakes. Wow. That sounds like an incredibly cheesy tagline. Hmm. I need to stay away from the Nyquil.

But seriously, I love the idea that I could go undercover, get the information (or, y’know, whatever) and make the world a better place. And not just metaphorically. I mean, I love the idea of an alias, of being in disguise and acting out a role…spy stuff. I’ve covered the symbolic reasons for this spy obsession of mine in my post about Alias, but I think there’s a literal side to it, too.

However, I happen to be one of those people who thinks way better on paper than in person. I’m the type who, when insulted, thinks of the perfect comeback hours—maybe days or even years—later. I could never think as quickly on my feet as Veronica or Sydney. I’m not even sure I could lie as well. And I definitely couldn’t sneak around, snooping in people’s apartments and offices. It stresses me out just to watch.

So, as they say, I’ll play to my strengths. I’ll observe, daydream, and maybe eventually write my own spy alter-ego into a story. Perhaps I’ll come up with a slightly klutzier and less self-assured Spygirl—sure, she can still kick butt, but sometimes she’ll get by on sheer luck.

What else is a girl like me to do? Y

Simple Pleasures

When I was in high school, my best friend and I bought pins from Claire’s that said: “Of course Blondes have more fun; it takes so little to entertain them.” Melissa and I thought this was hilarious, and we were blondes. Normally I don’t go in for blonde jokes, but it was true: it did take little to amuse me. The fact of the matter is, I’ve always been relatively easy to please.

When I was a young child, before my brother was born (so, zero to four) my parents could leave me alone in my room for hours playing with legos or my stuffed animals and dolls. I would draw and make little booklets, read, and make up my own songs. I could entertain myself very well.

Things haven’t changed that much. In college, I could spend hours with a stack of magazines, a pair of scissors, a roll of tape, and my favorite sappy movies. I did collages and watched videos on my roommate’s TV. (Yes, videos. Believe it or not, DVDs were very rare when I was in college....does that make me old? Wait, don't answer that) I should have been studying, but that’s beside the point. And it wouldn’t have been entertaining or amusing.

Today I am also feeling rather pleased, and it’s not because I spent part of the day on the computer and part of it shopping. It’s because of what I got. Now I know, money can’t buy happiness…but it can buy it for a little while. At least for thirty hours or so, enough time to watch the entire first season of LOST and some of the bonus features available on the DVD. And another twenty some hours to watch the second season of MacGyver. (*sigh.*)

If being a bit of a Drama Queen means I am sometimes prone to making a big deal out of things that really aren’t so bad once put in perspective, then the flip side is that I also get easily satisfied by small things. New clothes, new haircut, a good book, a good movie, a good song, a purring cat in my lap: all make me happy. I was happy yesterday because my CD player in my car started working again and I got to listen to Nichole Nordeman on the way home from work.

Maybe it’s flippancy; maybe it’s shallowness; maybe it’s being easily content. All I know is I enjoy life’s simple pleasures, and I like that I enjoy them. I’m not saying that anyone should let his or her happiness hang on material goods or their circumstances, but I do think if more people derived happiness from the little things, maybe we’d all be happier more of the time. I know it does sound flippant to be so happy about a TV show, but if you read my post about Alias, you’d know that at least some of my guilty pleasures have good reasons behind them.

But right now I’m so tired that the thing I’d get the most enjoyment from is going to sleep. G’night. Y

ALIAS

I love Alias. I do. I just bought Season One this weekend—I got it previously viewed from Blockbuster so it was only $25!!! I love bargains!—and I finally watched the first three episodes last night. I really love it. And I think I’ve finally figured out why.

There are many reasons to like Alias. There is Sydney Bristow (played brilliantly by Jennifer Garner) for starters; I’m hard-pressed to think of any guys who don’t like her. Or girls, for that matter, though not quite in the same way—they save that for Michael Vaughn. There’s the action: Sydney is just awesome at kicking butt and not taking crap from anyone. I mean, talk about girl power. There are the very, very cool gadgets, usually provided by the very nerdy but nonetheless adorable and funny Marshall.

There is the music, from J.J. Abram’s opening theme, to the song selections for each episode, to the scoring by the brilliant Michael Giaccino (who also does the fantastic music for LOST). There are the plot lines: not too hard to follow if you keep up, and with enough twists and turn to leave you surprised. Often VERY surprised (Season Four finale, anyone?).

Then there are the characters. They are very complex and fascinating; real, three-dimensional, believable, and sometimes unpredictable. They are strong, smart, funny, snarky, ruthless; you either love or hate them—sometimes both in the same moment—but very rarely do you just not care about a character. They are human; they mess up, make mistakes, fight, and do their best to do what they think is right.

But I think the real reason I love it—along with thousands of other viewers—lies elsewhere. I think it has more to do with…escapism. Or just fantasy-ism in general. I’m talking about a preoccupation with spies that goes back almost to childhood for me. It started with mysteries and sleuths in grade school, like Nancy Drew and Trixie Belden and their ability to sneak around and dig up clues and pay attention to small details. It progressed to shows in my pre and early teen years like Remington Steele, Scarecrow and Mrs. King, and my favorites Mission: Impossible and MacGyver (*sigh* who deserves his own blog of tribute). Really, with a background like that, it was only a matter of time before I fell for Alias.

It’s perfect, really. For one whole hour every week, I get to be a spy. I get to vicariously live out my secret espionage desires. I get to see the world, kick butt, save lives, and the best part is, I come home without a scratch. Or any bruises. Or the fear of retaliation. Living out as Sydney, I get to imagine what it’s like to be an important part of a critical and covert organization.

I get to pretend for a little while that I have a vital role to play, a job that no one else can do as well as me, a role that no one else can fill, a job that could very well save the world. I get to go behind enemy lines, sneak into their base camp, and steal back valuable items and information, even rescue people.

John Eldredge would probably say that the reason I like Alias so much is that it is a picture of me and my role in the Larger Story—the Story we all are living out every day. He doesn’t normally write about spy stuff—he’s more into epics, fairytales, and war-ridden dramas—so I’m just speculating here. But all that stuff about being behind enemy lines, and going undercover, having a critical role to play—that stuff is so Eldredge.

In his book “Waking the Dead” (in my favorites list, I recommend it to everyone) he outlines three Eternal Truths that we find in stories we love.

1. Things are not what they seem.
2. This is a world at war.
3. You have a crucial role to play.

I can see all of these applying to Alias. Things are not what they seem. No one is what he or she seems. Sydney is not just another pretty face. Her father is not just an aloof airplane parts salesman. Even Vaughn, we learn, is not really Michael Vaughn. (Whatever that means, J.J.!!) SD-6 is not part of the CIA. As far as being at war goes, there are always bad guys to fight, some more prevalent than others. And Sydney, as well as the other main characters like Jack, Vaughn and Marshall all absolutely have a crucial role to play.

And so it relates to us; this is why we love it. Because we know that in our world, also, nothing is ever quite what it seems at first glance. There is conflict going on everyday with everyone. And whether we feel it or not, we each do have an important role to play, something designed just for us in all our uniqueness. Maybe it’s not as dramatic or dangerous as what Sydney does, but…since nothing is what it seems…then again, maybe it is.