I got home from a work meeting a little before (or after?) five on Friday and typed up an article and a police report real quick, then hopped over to Port City Community Church for a somewhat mysterious Bible study training workshop. It was Friday evening and all day Saturday. It turned out to be very fun and informative. A lot of work, but definitely the good kind. And it involved colored pencils! We learned how to observe, interpret, and apply the meaning of a biblical text.
First, we found out the hard facts of the book: who wrote it and for whom, why they wrote it, where it took place, when, etc. Then we went through and marked every instance of first-person pronouns or the author's name, and second-person pronouns or the recipient's name. (This was for a letter. I guess some of it would be different for history and other types of books.) Using those markings, we compiled lists of information about the author and the recipient, in this case Paul and Titus. So each time one of them was mentioned, we'd write down what it said about him. Pretty cool. We did the same thing later with God, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit. We also used different colors to mark key words, time indicators, comparisons, contrasts, and more. The teacher was very enthusiastic, and the process is more fun than it sounds like. It was so different from the way I often read the Bible, which is much like the way I read other books but with more underlining. Reading with this new technique was like opening a jar with a rubber pancake thing to help you grip, while regular reading is like opening it with just your hands: it can be done either way, but one makes you feel stronger and gets the job done better. It is very time-consuming but very worth it.
So that's this weekend's bliss blitz installment. Up next: Asheville! Preceded by the Thurber bash and baking a cake which I don't think I've ever done from scratch, and Dusty & Ace and fondue and a whole lot of work in order to make Asheville happen. Bring it all on! I have a lot to look forward to.
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Bonanza Blitz of Weekends, part 1: Lay Speaker Training
It was not at all what I expected. Perhaps in part because of my Creative Writing background (side note: I love using "background" in that way, perhaps in part because of my pretentious background), I thought I'd be gettin' with other wannabe preachers or confused folk who love God and read the same book I did that said do lay speaker training because it might help you discern some things. I thought we would make on-the-spot mini-sermons and get or give feedback on them, or maybe see some sample ones on video or read about them. Do's and don'ts of public speaking/preaching, combined with a workshop, is what I thought it was.
But no. It was more like a rundown of Methodists vs. the world, not a combative "vs." but one that points out how we, in our stated-and-written-down beliefs, are different from, say, Presbyterians, which made me none too comfortable, and surprise, made nothing any iota clearer. It was very educational and pretty fun. I met some cool people. But I did not learn anything about speaking or preaching. They ought to re-title it "Being a Good Methodist Training."
I must tell you that I did advanced lay speaker training without having taken Basic, which everyone said was OK even without my asking them, probably because they could tell from my voice on the phone that I'm way too smart for Basic. That may have had something to do with my off-the-mark expectations; like, for instance, maybe basic lay speaker training covers some of the things I thought I'd learn. But we won't know that 'til the spring, if ever.
Nothing is OK with me lately. Too much is changing at once, and everyone else seems all but oblivious to it. Our small group is "ending," as one member so bluntly put it. Too many people are moving away, or getting ready to, or hoping to. Having roommates stresses me out, and my job is as bad as ever. I'm helplessly watching yet another once-hopeful romantic prospect fizzle and die. Basically, I can't name one part of my life that's not in flux, and it ain't no eustress either. I can handle some pain if I learn from it, but I don't feel like I'm learning. I can handle change in one or two sectors at a time, but I feel like I'm playing the least fun game of Whack-a-Mole ever. You get one crisis taken care of (or at least learn to live with it), and another comes up. You plug a hole in the stern, and another leak springs in the bow, and another, and another, and they're coming faster. Those games, they start out slow, but that's just a mean and deceptive trick. You always lose.
I know the right answer is to give the game over to God, or trade in your boat for his, whichever metaphor we're going with. But I'm so attached to my way of doing it, and I don't know enough about his way or what to expect. I'm pretty sure nothing is going to get better until I trust him enough to hand over something, anything. But that feels really far away. So here I am, going down with the boat, but isn't it a beauty? And I get to be the captain.
But no. It was more like a rundown of Methodists vs. the world, not a combative "vs." but one that points out how we, in our stated-and-written-down beliefs, are different from, say, Presbyterians, which made me none too comfortable, and surprise, made nothing any iota clearer. It was very educational and pretty fun. I met some cool people. But I did not learn anything about speaking or preaching. They ought to re-title it "Being a Good Methodist Training."
I must tell you that I did advanced lay speaker training without having taken Basic, which everyone said was OK even without my asking them, probably because they could tell from my voice on the phone that I'm way too smart for Basic. That may have had something to do with my off-the-mark expectations; like, for instance, maybe basic lay speaker training covers some of the things I thought I'd learn. But we won't know that 'til the spring, if ever.
Nothing is OK with me lately. Too much is changing at once, and everyone else seems all but oblivious to it. Our small group is "ending," as one member so bluntly put it. Too many people are moving away, or getting ready to, or hoping to. Having roommates stresses me out, and my job is as bad as ever. I'm helplessly watching yet another once-hopeful romantic prospect fizzle and die. Basically, I can't name one part of my life that's not in flux, and it ain't no eustress either. I can handle some pain if I learn from it, but I don't feel like I'm learning. I can handle change in one or two sectors at a time, but I feel like I'm playing the least fun game of Whack-a-Mole ever. You get one crisis taken care of (or at least learn to live with it), and another comes up. You plug a hole in the stern, and another leak springs in the bow, and another, and another, and they're coming faster. Those games, they start out slow, but that's just a mean and deceptive trick. You always lose.
I know the right answer is to give the game over to God, or trade in your boat for his, whichever metaphor we're going with. But I'm so attached to my way of doing it, and I don't know enough about his way or what to expect. I'm pretty sure nothing is going to get better until I trust him enough to hand over something, anything. But that feels really far away. So here I am, going down with the boat, but isn't it a beauty? And I get to be the captain.
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Bliss Blitz
The next six consecutive weekends are going to be filled with the best kind of busyness: travel, holidays, learning, and general breaking-of-routine. At first I was reluctant to fill in the last couple of spots, but then I thought, no way. These are all things I want to do, and as my new-mom friend Stacey pointed out, I may not be able to act this way if I ever have a kid, or even just a different kind of job.
Let's take a look:
October 23 (Saturday): Lay speaker training for the United Methodist Church district
October 29 and 30 (Saturday and Sunday): Bible study training workshop through Port City Community Church
November 4 (Thursday, but I will do my utmost to stay all weekend): my brother's percussion ensemble concert in Asheville. Both of my parents will be there, and I was just reminded that a cousin is in Asheville, too! This one depends on my ability to get all of my stories written by Wednesday so I can check out on Thursday morning. I am feeling not certain but very hopeful.
November 12-14 (Friday-Sunday): Pilgrimage with PVUMC youth
November 19-21 (Friday-Sunday): Celebration of Seagrove Potters
November 25 (Thursday, but again it will be a weekend-long affair): Thanksgiving
And that's just the weekends! I am also going to see Banksy's first movie, a Halloween puppet show at the art museum featuring a story from Ecotone, Dusty and Ace AKA Philip and Clyde, fondue, Writers' Week, my James Thurber party, a thesis reading by Erin Sroka and Laurin Penland, a reading by John Sullivan, and who knows what else is going to come up during that time! Sometimes it frustrates me that all the fun seems to happen at once. Then when it's going on, I sure don't mind.
And ideally, this will give my blog somethin' to talk about. So stay tuned to see just how blissfully exhausted I get, and how much I learn, and how much I enjoy my six-week powerhouse of fun.
Let's take a look:
October 23 (Saturday): Lay speaker training for the United Methodist Church district
October 29 and 30 (Saturday and Sunday): Bible study training workshop through Port City Community Church
November 4 (Thursday, but I will do my utmost to stay all weekend): my brother's percussion ensemble concert in Asheville. Both of my parents will be there, and I was just reminded that a cousin is in Asheville, too! This one depends on my ability to get all of my stories written by Wednesday so I can check out on Thursday morning. I am feeling not certain but very hopeful.
November 12-14 (Friday-Sunday): Pilgrimage with PVUMC youth
November 19-21 (Friday-Sunday): Celebration of Seagrove Potters
November 25 (Thursday, but again it will be a weekend-long affair): Thanksgiving
And that's just the weekends! I am also going to see Banksy's first movie, a Halloween puppet show at the art museum featuring a story from Ecotone, Dusty and Ace AKA Philip and Clyde, fondue, Writers' Week, my James Thurber party, a thesis reading by Erin Sroka and Laurin Penland, a reading by John Sullivan, and who knows what else is going to come up during that time! Sometimes it frustrates me that all the fun seems to happen at once. Then when it's going on, I sure don't mind.
And ideally, this will give my blog somethin' to talk about. So stay tuned to see just how blissfully exhausted I get, and how much I learn, and how much I enjoy my six-week powerhouse of fun.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
My favorite?
I hesitate to use the word "favorite" in most circumstances, or else I water it down and change the literal meaning so that all I'm saying is I like whatever it is. When asked my favorite color, I say, "It depends on what's being colored." A wall favorite color is different from my car favorite color or a shirt favorite color. Same with food, movies, music; it all depends on my mood and the situation.
But I think I have a favorite writer. Reading James Thurber feels like sleeping in one's own bed, the smell of one's own home, something that sets things right, something comfortable but not in a complacent way. I feel so fully "me" when I'm reading him. I cannot put my finger on why.
We had a dry spell for a while, but a few days ago I started reading People Have More Fun than Anybody, a book of never-before-collected items to celebrate 100 years since Jim's birth (published in 1994). There's a cake recipe from him in it, which to me cries out for a party. And thus it is. I'm celebrating his birthday early because it's in December and no one wants an extra party then. Making the cake and giving everyone a chance to read their favorite things by him. I haven't had a party in a long time!
This particular book is all items that would otherwise be pretty much lost, things from magazines or papers that hadn't been put in book form ever before. And that may be why I'm so impressed: he wrote these things as little ephemera to make extra bucks, not to be literarily lasting or meaningful, but oh how he is! It's like if someone collected the articles I'm writing in 84 years, and they stood the test of time. One thing Michael J. Rosen's introduction points out is Thurber's ability to refer to his time--fads, celebrities we don't know about anymore, sundry pop culture items--and still be relevant today. He mentions these things, and they're confusing briefly or require an editor's note to explain them, but the way he talks about them and the things he says are still enjoyable to read. Basically, we don't have to know what he's talking about to get what he's talking about. That's pretty amazing to me.
Also, I may have known his eyesight failed as he aged, and I certainly knew he did sweet cartoons, but I never put the two together. Apparently he was drawing in the dark some of the time, which is not hard to believe when you look at the drawings but is nonetheless impressive. Oh, and Matisse called him the best artist in New York.
But I think I have a favorite writer. Reading James Thurber feels like sleeping in one's own bed, the smell of one's own home, something that sets things right, something comfortable but not in a complacent way. I feel so fully "me" when I'm reading him. I cannot put my finger on why.
We had a dry spell for a while, but a few days ago I started reading People Have More Fun than Anybody, a book of never-before-collected items to celebrate 100 years since Jim's birth (published in 1994). There's a cake recipe from him in it, which to me cries out for a party. And thus it is. I'm celebrating his birthday early because it's in December and no one wants an extra party then. Making the cake and giving everyone a chance to read their favorite things by him. I haven't had a party in a long time!
This particular book is all items that would otherwise be pretty much lost, things from magazines or papers that hadn't been put in book form ever before. And that may be why I'm so impressed: he wrote these things as little ephemera to make extra bucks, not to be literarily lasting or meaningful, but oh how he is! It's like if someone collected the articles I'm writing in 84 years, and they stood the test of time. One thing Michael J. Rosen's introduction points out is Thurber's ability to refer to his time--fads, celebrities we don't know about anymore, sundry pop culture items--and still be relevant today. He mentions these things, and they're confusing briefly or require an editor's note to explain them, but the way he talks about them and the things he says are still enjoyable to read. Basically, we don't have to know what he's talking about to get what he's talking about. That's pretty amazing to me.
Also, I may have known his eyesight failed as he aged, and I certainly knew he did sweet cartoons, but I never put the two together. Apparently he was drawing in the dark some of the time, which is not hard to believe when you look at the drawings but is nonetheless impressive. Oh, and Matisse called him the best artist in New York.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)