The Highest Form of Hope

I'm taking a photography course right now and one of my assignments was to manipulate a photo. I was highly disappointed that Paul and Clint did not follow through on the "mustache pact" (sounds like a name for an international terrorist organization) for their trip to Vancouver, so I decided to right a wrong. I guess that makes me righteous according to Jeff's definition of the word (brilliant definition by the way).... And here it is! The "Righteous Mustaches"!!!

Dear Maya,

I thought about your letter for a long time. Sorry about the wait. In between struggling with Greek and a thesis that's quickly going nowhere, you made me stop and question why I am here in the first place. Why did I choose to go to seminary? Maybe the question should be this: why do I choose to learn?
Am I conditioned to crave the evaluations of my superiors? (Oh, tell me I'm good and ever so smart!) Or am I simply working in the environment that I sucessfully adapted to? Even more troubling: Is my goal merely to attain a favoured status in society (the church)?
Honestly I have to answer yes to the first question. I have been conditioned. We all have. I am resigned to acknowledge that it is something that I will continue to struggle with for the rest of my life. And yes, I am comfortable in school (my student loans officer would say too comfortable). School can become a place of non-action. A limbo where theory never makes it into practice. Of course, it doesn't have to be this way; but like you said, it is just too easy to do nothing. Praxis continues to be ellusive.
Am I searching for status? Maybe. Yes. In the beginning I was. I was going to turn things upside down, be a rebel, a lone woman in a field of men... But I lost my ambition somewhere. I don't want to be a pastor. I don't think that I would be happy teaching in a Christian College.
I am searching for words. Words to name my faith. Just like you search for images. I need words so that I can pin down the truth that has taken hold of me. I will borrow words: from classmates, professors, mentor's, books... And hopefully, I will eventually find words that are mine to communicate: through action, through speech. The dutiful search is my praxis now, to communicate will be my praxis tomorrow.

Sofie

I am getting a little bored with my writing so I have decided to try something new. Im going to write a few fictional dialogues and see where it will take me. Just remember that it is fictional, though there may be some real events, thoughts or feelings in it. I hope you enjoy the change.

Dear Sofie,

I got my portfolio back today. It is probably the worst mark I have received in three years. I sat in disbelief flipping through the evaluation sheet. Numbers flying left and right, I checked the addition three times in order to salvage a lost percent, but no such luck today. She said that I wasn’t creative enough. As if you can evaluate that!

In in the middle of reading over the comments, my heart began to beat a little faster. I could feel my ears turning red. The heat spread from the back of my neck to my cheeks. Then I felt that choking feeling in my throat. I swallowed hard and tried to regain perspective, but I started to tear up. How could a simple peice of paper get such a strong physical reaction? I almost cried over that stupid portfolio. However, that is not the worst thing I did today. Oh Sofie, this is so embarrassing! Surely I'm more mature than this! Chandelle, the girl who likes to draw horses, sat down beside me and opened her evaluation. At first I tried to ignore her, but I unconsciously glanced in her direction. I couldn’t help myself, I had to look! Did I beat her? Am I at least above average? How pathetic.

A new realization:

I am institutionalized. Walking to class this morning I rummaged through my books, checked my schedule, and made sure all my ducks were in a nice little row. Readings: check. Pencils: check. Snack: check. I sat in the desk that I always sit in. I opened my books, took out my pen, and dated my paper in the top right hand corner. I am ready to be spoonfed now.

Have you noticed how unnatural school is? You are given a student number, you sit in a seating plan (yes this still happens at university) and you are expected to learn in a social yet unsocial situation. Those who successfully adapt move on to so called higher education in order to reproduce the system that only worked for them. Mark me! Evaluate me! Tell me I’m smart! Only these types go on to university and grad school. They become the experts.

But what about critical thinking you say? (I can read your mind.) Critical thinking is an easy skill. Anyone is capable of it. Not everyone is capable of reframing their opinions into the image of the profs. Now that is a skill! The power of critical thinking is highly overrated. Ethical thinking or moral thinking: now that is hard.

I know these observations are not profound; they are only the suppressed frustrations of chronic overachiever. I will swallow them whole (along with my portfolio mark) and continue on in silence (as long as I can jump through the hoops and pull off a respectable mark in the process). But do not ask me to change the system. Why would I change a system that favors me?

"We reject violence to punish anyone. We ask that there be no retaliation on relatives or property. We forgive those who consider us their enemies. We hope that in loving both friends and enemies and by intervening nonviolently to aid those who are systematically oppressed, we can contribute in some small way to transforming this volatile situation." - Tom Fox

I've been following the story of the four men working for Christian peacemaker teams held hostage in Iraq . Recently the body of American Tom Fox was found in Bagdad. He had been shot.
What is amazing about this story is that these Westerners have earned the respect of many Muslim leaders in Iraq. Their efforts to promote peaceful conflict resolution and their protest against any violence, including that of the American troops has given them credibility. It is a credibility that has long elluded Christians in the Middle East; especially when a self-proclaimed Christian leads an illegal war bringing turmoil and chaos.
Peace is powerful. The gospel is powerful. Though these men have not "evangelized" in our traditional sense of the word, they have been witnesses for Christ in a powerful way. I often wondered at the intentions of many of the West's evangelism crusades in countries which increasingly resist Christians. Making disciples is not about selfish ambitions or a guilty conscience. It begins with love. Love for the people who live there. If you truly love someone you will not manipulate them or force them into anything. You will bring them that which they need. What the Iraqis needed was peace. The four men now held hostage brought a message of peace with no strings attatched. I think this is greatly commendable.

I just started this new template and everything was working swell. However, the blank white space above this post SHOULD be a lovely picture of Paul Klee's "Golden Fish". Instead it's a awkward white space! My template SAYS it should be there! IT WAS THERE JUST A FEW HOURS AGO!!!!

Where did I go wrong....?

I'm looking forward to this......

Many of you probably already know this, but I'll announce it anyway.
We're pregnant!

Ah the joys of pregnancy.... swelling, mood swings, exhaustion, nausea, idigestion, cravings...

The following are truths about my pregnancies:
1. I will crave foods that are very bad for me (ie. McDonalds cheesburgers).
2. I once ate hot dogs for every meal for a week.
3. I loose my tact when I'm pregnant (do not be surprised if my blogs parallel my mood swings).
4. I could easily sleep 14 hours a day.
5. I tend to feel like the world "owes me" when I'm pregnant.
6. Paul gets sympathy symptons of pregnancy (cravings, nausea, etc), yet I feel no pity (sorry Paul).
7. Though my labor with Sasha was 19 hours long, the last, most intense 5 hours were enjoyed as part of a drug-induced bliss. Therefore, I have absolutely no idea what childbirth actually feels like. I plan to continue my ignorance.
8. I find it easier to live with a newborn than living pregnant. (I actually LOVE newborns!)
9. I do not get the promised "healthy glow" of pregnancy. I tend to break out like a 13 year-old.
10. A warning to all, I will wear a maternity bathing suit this summer.

A giant squid was caught off the coast of the Falkland Islands in 2005. The squid was a juvenille female over nine meters long and weighing 1000 kg. It was donated to the British museum where it is now on display.
The largest giant squid ever recorded was caught in the nineteenth century off the coast of Newfoundland. It was over eighteen meters long! Now scientist have discovered an even bigger species of squid call the "colossal squid". The only evidence of this species is fragments of the dead squid washed up on shore lines.
The specimen at the British museum is not a full grown squid but it is fully intact - which is extremely rare.

Giant squid - one of the amazing creatures that Chuck Norris has allowed to live.