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Showing posts from August, 2009

A Good Bunch

I have a lot of compassion for people who have past scarring from bad churches.  What a terribly confusing dilemma - looking for the place reputed to be the first haven for the ragamuffins and outcasts, only to find the family of Christ full of judgment and all sorts of grief.
I know.  I've been hurt by the Christian church in the past.  I have suffered as a result of misunderstanding, fear, and the imperfections of the people who makes up the church.  But I'm still here.  And I want to help woo the alienated and give them hope and a reason to fall back in love with God's church.
In my life I have been in three churches: one Baptist, and 2 non-denominational.  Presently, I go to a college-age homechurch in Xenos.  We call ourselves Kodiak; this is some of us in the picture above.  And it's a good little church.  We're 30-some young adults between the ages of 18 and 27.  We're a weird, abrasive, creative, and passionate group of people.  We meet in the living room…

Movie Arguments Aren't Real

I love a good movie argument.
I was watching "Hitch" a few days ago.  During a speed-dating session Hitch and his potential girlfriend, Sara, are arguing about a misunderstanding.  She (wrongly) thinks that he set her friend up with a guy, Vance, just so he could get laid.  Once Hitch realizes the misunderstanding, he leans across the table, already on his feet, and with the attention of the room yells back at Sara, "Vance is a pig, and I refused to take him on as client!"  This was followed by her stunned silence and Hitch stalking out of the room, righteous and wounded.
It's the kind of argument that everyone wants to have, but probably never will.
I've had enough arguments with Dave to know this by now.  Even the times when I think I'm going into an argument lily-white right with both barrels loaded, I never have a clean get-away.  There's always, every single time, a way I am wrong or something I didn't think of.  I have never gotten a chance t…

Mother, May I?

Everyone played "Mother, May I?" as I kid.  One of the players is nominated the "Mother" and stands separate from the pack, whom are all lined up an equal distance away.  Then Mother goes down the line and gives instructions as to what each player may do.  "Carrie, take 3 giant steps forward," to which the player must respond "Mother, may I?" and wait until she hears "Yes, you may" before taking her steps.  If you move without asking permission, it's back to the starting line with you.  First to touch Mother wins.  And is apparently the biggest suck up.
What a weird thing to base a game on asking permission.
But as a child, it's true that your every move is cushioned and guided by permission.  Some kids rebel against having to ask for it.  Some kids embrace its safety.  I remember I used to love using the "they didn't give me permission" card when I didn't want to do something.  "Well, if you don't want…

Good People

2 years ago, I lived in a house with other girls in my homechurch; as the group grew, my house split in two, and I was in the half that moved out.  I asked my friend Patrick to borrow his parents' minivan and help me move some stuff the night before the big day.  And oh, what a misadventure it was.  After 30 minutes loading the minivan, Pat halted by the driver's door and heard the hiss of a flat tire.  So we undid our work, drove it back down the alley that had provided the nail, and I helped change my first tire.  The donut was so flat we barely got it around the corner.  So we took the donut back off (deja vue, no?) as someone tried so hard to ignore us they almost backed into us.  All our friends weren't answering their phones and every car that passed our plight took a piece of my soul with them; everyone could see us, and no one, NO ONE, was helping.  People are selfish.  People are jerks.  I'm going to secede from the human race because people are such assholes.…