Crap Reduction

Okay, so this is a weird thought, but my brain enjoys tangents so this is what's going on in there:

Yesterday at Cornerstone Pastor Nate gave a sermon on John 15: Jesus is the vine and we are the branches. We have to be connected to Him or we'll whither.

His visual aide was a bit different. He had placed a large bowl of pure water on a pedestal above a smaller bowl filled with vegetable oil. He connected a siphon between the two, which allowed the larger bowl to fill the smaller one with water, pushing the oil out over the top. He likened God to the larger bowl, filled with goodness, and us to the smaller bowl, filled with icky stuff. We need to be connected to God so He can cleanse us of our gross stuff (our sins, our pain, all our dirt).

So that was a good idea. Then, he unveiled what was placed on a neighboring pedestal: a toddler-sized training toilet. You know, the plastic kind of tiny potty that comes in bright colours. He set the siphon between the toilet and the smaller bowl (representing individual people). He talked about how often we disconnect from God and suck our spiritual nutrition from something else - anything except God - which essentially means we're drinking from the toilet. Ick.

I loved the point P. Nate made and wrote notes and drew small diagrams of toilets and bowls of oil and then came the tangent...

Most people in America that are between ages 0 and 40 have parents who used disposable diapers on them. Now, the average baby soils about 6 diapers/nappies per day. That means one baby goes through 2190 diapers in one year. Multiply that by the time it takes for a kid to graduate from diapers to being potty trained, and that's between 4380 and 8760 diapers that each person in America has indirectly deposited into a landfill (how could plastic + crap be recycled?)

Let's say the average weight of a used diaper is one pound. That means each person has added between 2 and 4 tons of waste to any number of landfills in our country.

Are you as dumbfounded by this as I am??

I feel awful for the amount of waste my own body produced when I had no control of how it was disposed. Robin and I discussed this at breakfast (good timing, I know), and she could gladly say her parents used cloth diapers on her as an infant.

I usually try to be pretty cautious about wasting materials, but now I'm feeling the weight of this realization of my past as a babychild. How ridiculous!! I don't know what it will take to negate the effects of all that crap (+plastic) I put into the world, but I hope I can find a way to de-impact the environment, some how.

Obesity contributes to global pollution

Check out this article:

Should Overweight Consumers Pay Extra for Services From Southwest Airlines & Other Businesses?
A number of companies and consumer groups think that overweight adults should pay extra for their services. Do you?
http://www.associatedcontent.comarticle/95247/should_overweight_consumers_pay_extra.html

Excerpt:

Statistics from the National Center for Health Statistics indicate that the American population's weight has been creeping up since the 1990's. More than thirty percent of American adults over the age of 20 are obese. The Center for Disease Control and Prevention states that the average weight of American adults has ballooned by 10 pounds.

The extra weight of these chubby vagabonds has translated into an additional $275 million dollar expenditure to burn more than 350 million additional gallons of jet fuel resulting in 3.8 million extra tons of carbon dioxide released into the air.


your thoughts?

25x

001. i must eat m&ms in the correct order: blue, green, orange, red, yellow, brown.
002. i thrive on summer activities like hiking, climbing, kayaking; exploring nature.
003. if i had excess money i would buy a taylor guitar.
004. i once punched a raccoon in the face.
005. for years, i settled for a combustible-black marshmallow on my s'more.
006. one time i witnessed a girl nearly fall into the abyss at hershey's chocolate world.
007. the concher is my *favorite* part of the chocolate factory tour ride.
008. donald miller is one of my top 3 favorite authors.
009. green is the color to which i'm most drawn.
010. i have seen the sun set over cadillac mountain on the down east coast of maine.
011. i have not seen a puffin.
012. this summer i saw two bears, two porcupines, and several doe. and the raccoon.
013. i have only heard, never seen, a pack of coyotes (sneaky buggers).
014. wallace and i aspire to drive route 50 from ocean city to sacramento.
015. this spring i discovered how inexperienced arkansasians are at snow driving.
016. my favorite thing about florida is the abundance of anoles *everywhere*.
017. the only time i flew was to visit 2 friends in chicago in 2005.
018. i worshipped God with homeless folks in a church next door to a crack house.
019. my roommate and i once cleansed the waters of the atlantic in wildwood, nj.
020. i have been to 10 weddings, and was the maid of honor in one of them.
021. i am a founding member of the ice cream challenge.
022. i once licked a cave formation that has been filmed for television.
023. one of the best things about camping can be trying to hang up your bear bag.
024. i enjoy driving a 15 passenger van
025. i hope to travel extensively in the somewhat-near future.

One

of the points that Donald Miller makes in his book, Through Painted Deserts, is that too often our culture focuses on answering "how" questions, because they're easier and allow us to be selfish and self-sufficient. How questions seek to fulfill personal goals for personal fulfilment. "How can I get a job? How can I make more money?" Why questions actually require some thought and some selflessness. "Why am I here? Why is there pain in the world? Why does color exist?"

Don said he'd ask, "What is beauty?" and receive the answer "Here are 5 steps to a successful marriage". How questions are at surface level, prone to easy answers. Asking why makes us smaller, makes us a part of the story of creation, not the protagonist of it.

So some women's health magazine periodically sends me emails. I received one today with a list of good resolutions to make for this new year. Various general, non-compelling ideas such as to read books recommended to you by former English teachers, to wear more colors for an attempt at a (false) positive attitude, etc. One said the following:

"Stop with the why-ning. "Why?" is a perfectly lovely question coming from a toddler, but not from you. Why am I stuck in this stupid job? Why don't I have a better boyfriend? A better question: "How?" How do I get a better job, a better guy?"

Oh how right Mr. Miller is about our culture and our simple seeking for simple answers. I resolve this year to dig deeper.

Oh, and I'm also going to start flossing.

Sting

and the Police are playing in concert on our television.

Scrapple gurgles around in my stomach after having felt the uncomfortable gaze of a group of girls whom I value and appreciate. They told me how much they'd love to get together for overnights, retreats, hanging out here and in the woods... and then explained that they never are free to do so.

Sting says "yo" a lot in his lyrics.

Of course, I'm re-reading Donald Miller's Through Painted Deserts and am really wishing it was summer immediately. December has been so stinkin' mild, it feels like spring should come bursting through the trees at any moment. The idea of two and a half months of ice and dry air discourages me and makes me feel as though I should really appreciate this season more anyway.

The working world sort of compells me to wish for a career as a farmer or cattle herder or something else more natural and basic and necessary. My current job is to convince upper middle class ladies that they need spend more money on frivolous items for their homes. Something more necessary and helpful to people might be more satisfying as a vocation. Especially if it were something that involved spending hours outdoors. I miss that aspect of my summer job. I wonder what I'll do this summer. National Park work sounds more and more delicious every day I think about it.

Well now I'm going to get in the car, spend money on gas, spend free money on coffee, and drive down unknown winding state routes to West Chester and my love.

December

I'm really glad that Phil is taking the opportunity to travel before he gets tied down to a job. He leant me his copy of Through Painted Deserts. I've had time to read the prologue.

December is kind of a negative month. It's filled with stressful adults and children who feel authentic entitlement to greed. I had to figure out a way to switch shifts at work for Christmas eve so I could leave by 4 instead of 6 for West Chester (so I can leave there by 8 or 8:30 to come back here for our big choir gig). That involved finding another person to pick up one of two afternoon shifts. After asking half of the employees at work, St. Amanda agreed to switch from morning to afternoon, so I get to work all day on Friday.

At this point, I'm finishing up with my obligatory late-December gifts. This season makes me wish we were more like hobbits, happy to give voluntary presents to everyone. Hobbits give presents away to the guests at their birthday parties.

Not even at a crossroads

Hello friends of the internet,

Now that NaNoWriMo is over (as well as No-Shave November, which I haven't personally concluded) I can do other things with the time I don't spend at work or with people. I ended at 50,062-something words, although my novel isn't near finished. I had kind of mapped out a plot in my mind, and would skip ahead to write different parts, bouncing back and forth so I wouldn't tire of a particular part of the story. Maybe I'll complete the story during next November.

Recently I read the first half of The Secret Life of Bees, recommended to me by Christine Barlow two summers back. Last night I began reading The Lord of the Rings, because this weekend a TV channel aired all three movies of the "trilogy" and I felt my brain could use some stimulation from Tolkien's adventures in language. (Writing my own wimpy book, I could see how awfully limited my own vocabulary is right now - which I attribute to only having been required to write about art during the past four years of my life)

Right now, I'm trying to figure out what I'm supposed to be doing. It's much more difficult to discern the call of God when I don't spend time listening. I read Brennan Manning's The Signature of Jesus, in which he described how to do a "centering prayer". It's meditative, and you do it for about twenty minutes at a time, before breakfast or dinner so your soul can connect with the hunger of your body. My problem is that I need a clean, peaceful space to do it, and my room is not in that condition at the moment. I miss the Christopher House in a time like this, because it had the chapel - small, intimate, quiet. Lined with a few chairs, stocked with diverse musical instruments for worship, and with candles always lit, it really felt like a sacred space where we as individuals or the whole fellowship could come for quiet (or loud!) time with the Lord, because that space was created specifically to meet with Him there.

Soon I'll be starting a youth ministry internship at my church, which I'm pretty ecstatic about. It makes me very glad that God doesn't call the qualified, but qualifies the called. I'll make curriculums for pre-school through senior high, teach, lead events, work on communications (don't I wish I took some graphic design courses?), and learn how to administrate. My pastor and the elder in charge of youth will be mentoring me through the process, so I'm going to ask that they also keep me accountable for my own spiritual growth, challenging me through this season (ooo, Christian vocab word).

Unpaid internships usually need to be paired with part-time jobs, so that's the thing I worry about. Working at Pier 1 has been a lot of fun, I actually enjoy it a lot, but I'm unure how long employment lasts after the buy-stuff-in-December season ends. (don't you hate having to associate Jesus' birthday with giving gifts to everyone but Him?) The career-building/resume-sending/connect-with-employers websites are okay. Without a degree in nursing or engineering, there aren't many jobs available. There are a few positions as postal workers or typists for the state, so perhaps something like that will hold me over. I feel like I just need a short-term job where I can earn some money to save up for a car; and once I have that, I'll have mobility and I'll be independent and I'll have peace about that.

Saturday was a really cool day because I got to hang out with a bunch of people I graduated high school with, whom I hadn't seen in maybe two or three years. It was hard not to feel discouraged, though, because they're all doing real things, having graduated with real majors that led to real jobs. More (?) importantly, they've all got their own places and aren't living with their parents. Of course, some of them received cars from their parents; something I don't have the luxury of, and also something that keeps me immobilized, tied down.

I know I need this transition period, this internship, because I didn't go to school for what I'm called to do - stupid - so I am hoping to put a lot of energy and effort into mentoring and loving on the kids in my church, and learning as much as I can from this experience so I can go do it, serve where I'm called to serve on my own. I'm still on the road toward the point of decision making, and that intersection seems so far off right now.

Fighting a battle against time is stupid. However, I seem to subconciously enjoy doing that. I feel tied down, like I want to start the great adventure of my life, but I have to save up some money before doing that. I have so many friends who are serving in different ministries around the country, around the world, because they had opportunities to jump out into the unknown in faith, following God with reckless abandon. I want that. I'm crushed under the waiting for it. Hopefully I can bear this all for as long as it takes...