I've been feeling kind of quiet and mellow all week. It's not really Monday, but I kind of have the Monday jive, slipping just under the radar of the succesive days. I'm headed up to Denver tonight after class, to hear a friend perform downtown tomorrow night. It's good to get out of town from time to time.
This week has seen another added on to the long list of incredible women that I have been friends with; specifically, Shelly Warren. Nothing feels as wonderful as a person you can talk about your Christianity so unguardedly with- in one breath, to express how foundational it is to you even at the cellular level, and yet also to talk about how jaded and apathetic you can be about your relationship with church and the expected Christian life. All over maté, hanging out with the cult kids. It makes me smile just to think about it now.
So, I am jonesin' for Michigan a bit. My grandpa Jim took the picture posted above, and it makes me feel warm inside, even though it exudes winter. I'm trying to cultivate the same "home" feeling in wherever I find myself at present, but there is something about Harbor Country, some magic in the sand and waves and forests, that I will never be able to shake. No matter how universal my travel, the little village by the big waters (as the Potawatami call it, "Chikaming") will always have my heart.
3 comments:
I checked out your cult. They seemed like nice enough people, and not completely crazy. They have some pretty specific Left-Behind-ish beliefs, which is really the only thing that raised a few red flags. I just don't like having a specific, point-by-point take on the last days. I like my eschatology nice and generic, thank you. Wait, that's not true. I guess it depends how you/I mean when you/I say eschatology. I like theology with an eschatalogical bent, but not eschatology with a "this is what Revelation really means" attitude. I'm quitting now. Bye!
I like having everything spelled out all of the time. I like knowing that God foreordained that I would be wearing these pajama pants out in public and not really care. I like the four horsemen of the Apocalypse, and they like it when they trample unbelievers like yourself.
I also like chapstick.
This is me, being trampled.
Uuurrggghhhh!
Post a Comment