10 Years Ago, Part Two

. . .looking back, the me that woke up the morning of September 11 seems so charmingly naieve - I could not in my wildest dreams have imagined the horrendous crash and burn that was about to happen, not only in New York, but in my own life.

I was up early. I had an 8 am class, which I typically tried to avoid, but it couldn't be helped that semester.

Pauline Epistles with Dr. Craig Koester.

That's where I was when it happened.

Blissfully oblivious.

I don't remember which epistle Koester was lecturing on that day.

I do remember the second class was over, Dr. Diane Jacobson calmly walked in to the room and somberly told us "There has been a terrorist attack on the United States, airplanes have been hijacked and flown into the World Trade Towers and the Pentagon. It is not certain whether there are other planes or what their targets may be. We are gathering in the chapel."


WHAT?


I went to chapel. I don't remember exactly what we said and did. . .a lot of praying, and speaking and singing lament psalms, I think.

My memories of the day are like that - certain things are crystal clear, while others are vague and hazy.

I do remember - clearly - it felt like time slowed down and the day would never end.

I was supposed to go to God, Evil, and Suffering next.

Ha.

But my neighbor Dana was expecting her cousin Sebastian to land later that day, coming to visit from Germany. But everything had been shut down, and who's to say where he was? And Dana didn't speak German. I went and explained the situation to Drs. Sponheim and Fretheim, and they said, by all means, go help your friend find her cousin.

His plane was halfway over the Atlantic Ocean when the pilot abruptly announced the United States had closed its borders and its airspace, they were turning around for Europe immediately.

I can't imagine what it must have been like for him to hear that, sitting on that plane, halfway through a long journey he'd been planning and looking forward to for months. I would have asked myself, "What do you mean, they closed the borders? WTH is happening on the ground?"

But at least he was safe, and made it back to his family alright.

From there I must have eaten something for lunch, though I doubt I had an appetite. And I must have finished out the very full day of class, with Lutheran Confessions, and Preaching. . .but honestly those parts of the day are also fuzzy.

I was working for Pilgrim Lutheran at the time, and they pulled together a prayer vigil that evening. I do remember going to that.

And I distinctly remember yelling at God the entire drive to the church: "Where were you? Where ARE you? Do you not care that we are perishing? Do you not understand what this means. . .with THIS President in particular at the helm?. . ."

I distinctly remember praying for our enemies at the service, because I could not fathom what kind of hell a person must live in, day in and day out, that would lead them to see such a suicide mission as their best and only way forward.

I distinctly remember all the hope and joy of the summer being sucked completely out of me in a matter of moments, as if a Dementor had followed Dr. Jacobson into the room, then grabbed hold and followed me out of it.

For me, September 11 was the beginning of a year of absolute hell, and an epically dark night of the soul. That journey was long, and is a story for another day.


Today in her sermon, Jen asked us, 10 years later, where do we find hope?

Which was a hard question because over the past few months, the devolving state of various situations in the world, which we never seem to gain traction on, have left me feeling increasingly hopeless and fearing we are, collectively, hell-bent on getting to a Fahrenheit 451/Clockwork Orange kind of world as fast as we possibly can.

Perhaps my old Dementor has been lingering a little too close lately, but I really had to think about this question.

I decided - I find hope in the people who choose life, who live life abundantly, who relentlessly rebuild this world even as others actively tear it down.

And I find hope in the God who continues to create beauty and truth and goodness, even out of the chaos and the rubble.

I give thanks to God for both Jen and Jeni, two of the saints in my life who give me hope, and for the brilliant sermons they each preached this morning.

And I leave you with this prayer, which we sang in worship today (though I thank another hopeful saint, Choral Girl, for this particular link):

A-Fringing We Will Go

Today went to see Disney Dethroned, a most excellent one-man show (well, two-men if you count the musician on stage with him). Clever, biting, hilarious, tightly written and performed (if you click through the link and scroll down the page you can watch a small clip of it). The format reminded me of the Creative Expression category in high school speech - like if you gave somebody who was excellent at that an hour to fill, instead of 8 minutes, this would be the kind of thing they would come up with.

This was supposed to be the final performance, but it was the best-selling show at the Mixed Blood venue, so it earned the encore spot tomorrow night (Sunday 8:30 pm). Go see it while you still can!

We went out for ice cream afterwards, and not only was there a parking spot right across the street from Sebastian Joe's* (that never happens) but I pulled off a perfect parallel park (also a rarity, which is why I am always so inordinately pleased with myself when that happens, to the point of needing to brag about it).


*I love how, once you've introduced somebody to the pure deliciousness that is Sebastian Joe's, the lamest, thinnest reasoning will easily persuade them to go back. It starts with "We had a great concert - let's go to Sebastian Joe's!" Then (d)evolves to "That was an awesome play - let's go to Sebastian Joe's!" And pretty soon it's all: "The sun is shining - let's go to Sebastian Joe's!" "The Twins lost that one - let's go to Sebastian Joe's!" "It's a Tuesday - let's go to Sebastian Joe's!" You get the picture. :)

Notes from the Life Abundant

*A wonderful warm and sunny day.

*Worship with a part of the broken yet beautiful body of Christ.

*A street festival on the way out of church.

*An excellent concert with InVocation.

*A celebratory ice cream at Sebastian Joe's.

Life is good. :)

Gruen Is Busting Out All Over

In addition to the budding trees, the lawn at the seminary has now actually grown long enough that it needs to be cut. I am almost drunk on the smell of freshly-mown grass. :)

Spring, you are a late but most welcome guest!

Hello Gorgeous

Days like today are why I love living in Minnesota.

Some people live in places where you get weather like this every day. It becomes old hat. You start to take it for granted.

But you get a day like today at the end of a long, cold, snowy winter - when you finally get a day like today when the sun is shining and the sky is blue and the trees are budding and it's not too cold but it's also not too hot and there are no bugs out yet, well, if you live in Minnesota you understand in the very marrow of your bones what a rare and precious gift such a day is and you do everything in your power to soak in as much of this beauty as possible. A day like today makes even dour and unassuming Scandihoovians visibly ecstatic to be alive.

It was just too nice not to be outside. So I went over to Dad's tonight and we played catch in the front yard.

There's this students vs. faculty softball game coming up, you see, and I haven't thrown an actual ball or swung an actual bat in close to a decade (maybe more than a decade. . .as far as this is concerned, Wii and whiffleball don't count). Not only do I not want to look like an idiot on the field, I also don't want to hurt for a week after the game. So I thought it might be good to get a little practice in, ease my muscles back into certain ball-playing uses and movements.

So we were playing catch, but the lawn was uneven, and I was scared to chase down simulated pop flies because I didn't want to turn my ankle in a divot being too busy tracking the ball to look where I was running. So Dad suggested we move into the street. Three or four throws into this change of venue, the ball drops out of his glove and rolls right into the gutter!

We ran over to the cover thinking we'll just need a stick to fish it out. But nope, as we hover over the top looking for the ball, we can hear it steadily rolling down, down, down, then SPLASH!

That was the end of the game of catch.

Somewhere out there tonight a brand new softball is floating down the Mississippi River. Finders keepers if you snag it. ;)

Thanks be to God for a beautiful day!

Of Gratitude and Beatitudes

Though I think a part of them secretly wishes they were still in Jerusalem, a part of me is selfishly grateful that Jeni and Colin are doing the Lord's work back in the great state of Minnesota, and is especially grateful for the chance to catch up with them last night.

And now for something completely different, some beatitudinal thoughts from Tim K. Snyder and Nadia Bolz-Weber. Enjoy.

How to Have Fun When It's F-F-F-Freakin Cold

Dinner at Solera.

Followed by Nellie McKay and the Aristocrats at the dakota.

Happy Birthday to the fabulous Eileen Campbell-Reed, whose natal day was Tuesday and provided the impetus for this night on the town.

Happy Birthday to the marvelous Mary Hess, whose natal day was actually today (I'm still counting this as Friday, I haven't gone to bed yet).

And props to the person I passed on my way home who was out riding a bike, at midnight, when it is 4 degrees and actively snowing. You are either really stupid or really hard core. Normally I'd think you were a candidate for the Darwin awards, but I'm feeling benevolent after a good concert, so I'm gonna go with hard core and tip my Turtle Fur hat to you, good sir or madame (hard to tell the difference these days when everybody is bundled up the wazoo).

Now, for your viewing enjoyment, a little Nellie McKay:

And Catrina Saw That It Was Good

Spent most of the day today helping Breen and Patrick get the garden beds ready, and we also actually planted onions and garlic. The weather could not have been more perfect - not too cold, not too hot, just right humidity, bright and sunny with a nice gentle breeze. An absolutely gorgeous day to be out and about in a big beautiful world in the company of wonderful people. Adding to my bliss was a delicious breakfast to start us off right, and an even more delicious lunch (because Patrick grills the best hamburgers in the world), and during breaktime inside, I had fun playing with the cats, who are endlessly adorable and entertaining.

It's at the end of a day like this that I totally get what God is talking about, sitting down after a busy, full day of creating and sighing, "This is good."

It's also a day that puts me in mind of a famous G. K. Chesterton quote:

Because children have abounding vitality, because they are in spirit fierce and free, therefore they want things repeated and unchanged. They always say, “Do it again”; and the grown-up person does it again until he is nearly dead. For grown-up people are not strong enough to exult in monotony. But perhaps God is strong enough to exult in monotony. It is possible that God says every morning, “Do it again” to the sun; and every evening, “Do it again” to the moon. It may not be automatic necessity that makes all daisies alike; it may be that God makes every daisy separately, but has never got tired of making them. It may be that He has the eternal appetite of infancy; for we have sinned and grown old, and our Father is younger than we. The repetition in Nature may not be mere recurrence; it may be a theatrical encore. (From Orthodoxy)

If he's right, then I'd like to hold with God's eternal appetite of infancy, especially after a day like today, I say: Do it again!