IF

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you
But make allowance for their doubting too,
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream--and not make dreams your master,
If you can think--and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build 'em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings--nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;If all men count with you, but none too much,
If you can fill the unforgiving minuteWith sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,And--which is more--you'll be a Man, my son!
--Rudyard Kipling

Myself

I have to live with myself and so I want to be fit for myself to know.
I want to be able as days go by always to look myself straight in the eye;
I don't want to stand with the setting sun and hate myself for the things I have done.
I don't want to keep on a closet shelf a lot of secrets about myself
and fool myself as I come and go into thinking no one else will ever know
The kind of person I really am, I don't want to dress up myself in sham.
I want to go out with my head erect I want to deserve all men's respect;
but here in the struggle for fame and wealth I want to be able to like myself.
I don't want to look at myself and know that I am bluster and bluff and empty show.
I never can hide myself from me;I see what others may never see;
I know what others may never know, I never can fool myself and so,
whatever happens I want to be self respecting and conscience free.
~Edgar Albert Guest (1920)

What is Love?

Sometimes the easiest way to define something is to contrast it with something it is not.
The best example I have now of that fact comes from my journey in understanding what love really is. Contrasting love and dependency have really clarified some gray areas in my head.
The best description of dependency vs. love that I've discovered is found in Could It Be This Simple? Written by Timothy R. Jennings, M.D.
According to Dr. Jennings dependency is characterizied by a clinging and self-centered need, not on mutual love and respect. The dependant person will look to another to be their source and supply of an internal craving. A relationship based on internal needs impairs the ability to give, as such the motivation for the relationship is primarily driven by the impulse to satisfy a personal drive. Since the dependent party is dependent for its internal feelings of well-being from the other party it will exert pressure, manipulation and control to maintain a relationship. The result is feelings of rebellion from the other party, which threatens the other other's security which increases their attempts at manipulative control. A downward spiral if there ever was one.
This recipe results in a volital relationship, characterized by intense feelings and is unstable and erratic. The bottom line is that dependent behavior violates God's law of love and liberty. It leads to loss self-esteem, self-worth and self-confidence. These person's are constantly seeking to emotional filled by others and will do and say whatever it takes to keep their nurturer around.
That is dependency. And it is often mistaken for love. But it is not love.
What is love?
"True love is the Principe of doing what's in the best interest of the other person, the principle of giving." (p.75) Of other-centeredness, of unselfishness. In other words, it is not natural to the human heart. It is the opposite of our natural desires. "True love stems from knowing God...we come to love, admire, respect, and trust Him. We learn His methods and principles, and then we begin to walk on a higher plan of existence, free from fear and insecurity."
"Love heals, while dependency destroys. Love liberates, while dependency always seeks to control. Love gives, while dependency constantly takes. Love is fearless, while dependency is fear-ridden. Love is interested in another, while dependency focuses on self. Love is stable, while dependency wavers. Love is orderly and reliable, while dependency is chaotic and unreliable. Love is based on principles, while dependency is based on feelings. Love is consistent while dependency is inconsistent. Love is honest and truthful, while dependency is dishonest and deceitful. Love is patient, while dependency is impulsive. Love is kind, while dependency is cruel. Love is forgiving, while dependency is resentful. Love protects, while dependency exploits. Love scarifies self, while dependency sacrifices others. Love never ends, while dependency never lasts. And love never fails, while dependency never success." (p. 76,77)

It's a good thing that Panera Bread is not exactly a sanctuary of silence...if you get my drift. 'Cause sex was on the word menu paused only by salad and sandwiches gulps and tittering laughter. Most of the five girls waxing eloquent on the topic were pretty well convinced we were never going to fall into a 'frigid wife' category. Not with all the hormones raging around inside us anyways! Only one pretty face seemed visibly disturbed by the whole conversation, turns out she was under the understanding the whole thing

 was taboo.
Taboo? you mean talking about our sexual drives...if it had been purely superficial, yeah sure. But it wasn't. Sex and its drives is a real time issue that impacts our daily interactions with one another.
Sexual purity is neither denial that we have drives or deception that we are born knowing how to manage them. Not only do we need each other's mutual 'hey, I'm there' and 'let's keep strong' mantras but especially the mutual accountablilty to 

the biblical call for sexual

purity! I've heard it before and every time it makes me shiver in the naivetee of the assumption. 

It goes something like this: Our lustful battles will be over once we can freely enjoy the glories of the marriage bed. Come on now!
If marriage was the solution to a properly satisfied, balanced and managed sex drive. Then there wouldn't be problems with pornography or infidelity or other sexual indescretions that there are today. One thing's for sure. Unlawful sexual impulses, thrills and desires as incapsulated in the word LUST will be a life long battle on this side of eternity! That is unless you are gifted with celibacy...man, I used to think I was...what a deception!
My point is this: first of all, we're not angles so sex is not taboo. Halelujah! It was after all designed by God so its not at all surprisng the devil has done his best to destroy its true beauty.
Second of all, the best things in life have distinct boundaries. Think land & water, a break of the boundary equals a flood. Sex's joys are best discovered objectively not subjectively, so any messing around has the real tendency to erode that joy exponent.
Next time sex is on the word menu, I think I'll pass...for a while anyways. =)

To Dance

Dance...the word sparkles in my mind and twinkles in my eyes...Dance.
Some words are visual in their very sound and dance is one of them. My idea of dance is a rhythmic movement in response to inner or outer music. A release of emotion that requires no words...that is a glorious truth that makes me smile for I am by my own admission a lover of words. There used to be a running joke in my family that I made up words...and sometimes I did; but it was never in a premeditated way, rather it was a on the spot response to an idea or experience.
All of us have non-verbal ways of expressing ourselves...I've had a babyhood tick of ringing my hands...one I suppressed as I got older.
I suppose you realize by now that I am intrigued by dancing...and as those who know me know...intrigued is all it is...I'm so for real! I've never taken a dance class and am not exactly the most graceful creature around. But part of my fascination with dancing is the heated response one get to the topic. It is definitely not a causal conversation starter.
Maybe that is why I've chosen it as a vehicle to share something. Most of my life I've looked at the world as the devil's kingdom. But while its tragically true that this unique planet is the devil's playground. He hijacked it only after my Creator Lord designed and set it in motion. The enemy is regulated to disarray, distorting and destruction. To extinction or extremes is his motto. And though he has limited power to miraculously glitter and glamour his death traps, they are all an appeal to instincts that beckon to the glory of God's original purpose. Dancing, in my dictionary, is no exception.
I was created to be a beautiful, graceful, harmonious, intimate creature...sin leaves me ugly, awkward, at odds, and relationally broken. No wonder I have a pull to an art that graces me with a promise of the first! That said I will agree that dancing has been for the most part successfully hijacked. It is now commonly viewed, at least within conservative Christian communities, as a practice of the flesh and a sinful pass time. One preacher I recently heard commented on the whole topic with a dismissive "it is an advertisement of your sexual prowess". If dancing is an expression of emotion--then it can be good or bad; there can be a time for it to be and time for it to be not. Interestingly enough that is exactly what Ecclesiastes 3:4 seems to be saying. There is "A time to mourn and a time to dance."
I've come to at least one conclusion while writing this. The devil doesn't deserve the credit of creating dancing. It is not his tool exclusively. Now the ramifications of what I'm saying I've still to flesh out...does that annoy you? I am being honest though...
In order to set some of your hearts at ease, I will say that because of some of my other conviction you won't find me studiously dancing away under the hand of a master dancer...though that fantasy has crossed my mind...but neither will you hear me condemning the whole concept as an art bred in the devil's workshop.
I am becoming more and more all about reclaiming the Lord's design. The devil is a liar and I don't want to assist his propaganda campaign. If we approached things in this light don't you think we'd do a better job of presenting truth as the beautiful thing that it is?

Roomate-Bride

It was a wedding I had been looking forward to. My Weimar College roomate was getting married! It was to be a December wedding and I was sure, it was to be a study in contrasts.
My roomate-bride is Korean, her groom Romanian, the Church chosen Japanese-American and the bridal party an assortment of Asian-European-Hispanic-African-American young folk! I expected it to be a unique and special celebration not only because of these facts but because having co-habited with the bride, I knew it would be a reflection of her: delightfully simple, spiritually deep and muiscally oriented. I was not disappointed.
The music enchanted the charming sanctuary from the echos of a small orchestra, the pathos of a latin sole and perfect-mood setting pieces. A reverant, spiritual atmosphere undergirded the entire ceremony apart even from the beautifully crafted wedding sermon, the first I will remember I think. And simpicity was the code of mode as only black and white outfits can be, completed only with a Bible and a trinity of red-roses on evergreens. The groom was sporting an hour-old-haircut at the hands of the Canadian bridesmaid and looking for all the world like he'd managed somehow to shallow the golden egg! The bride's jet-black hair framed her beautiful fresh-faced glow, with only a hint of lip-gloss setting off her natural pearl pink cheeks. Having a blond groom that towers over you, made the bride appear only more adorable!
The mood before the ceremony was seriously light: if that is possible. I mean to say that the groomesmen were a serious lot, only now and then breaking into a sheepish grin at one or two of the ridiculous comments springing in gales from the bridesmaide's side. A light mood was making me join in with the best of the girls. But behind my teasing and jesting words, a slightly disconcerting unease was taking hold of me but for all the world I could not put my finger on what was wrong.
From my vantage point in the ceremony...and let me say that this is the first wedding in six that I've been a part of that had the bridal party sit down for the ceremony-great idea if you ask me! I searched the bridal scene and crowded church for some sort of an indication of what was causing my disrest. Many of my Weimar-College-days friends were there, some as dear as always and others reminders or co-partners of mischievousness glory! I scanned the bridal party and internally grinned at the demure faces the girls now sported, one or two appeard quite taken with the scene, dreaming of their own day perhaps. The married girl was the only one still having a hard time being serious, she was always the leader in fun no matter what the occassion. One bridesmaid for sure was having an internal struggle over her outfit, anxiously reviewing all its flaws. The boys, I mean, groomsmen were perfectly composed.
My eyes lingered on the bride. And my feelings intensified...ahhh...at last. The source of my disconcerted feelings had been discovered. In her flowing vail and soft glow I searched for that girl: my roomate. The connection between that girl and me was missing. That was what was disconcerting. It had been over four years since we shared extended time together but my spirit longed for a spark of connection, the kind that exists apart from words or gestures. I longed for that spark of the girl that had made me laugh like no other, who loved music and hated kimchi. the girl who disliked beds and gave strong backrubs. The girl that had joined me in a blood-coveant of swearing off boys after a climatic discussion on boy-distractions and the virtues of focused service for God...ahhh the passionate reasoning, earnestness and youthful...misguided ideals?!
The composed bride setting before me seemed far removed from that girl. Then it happend, the one moment that changed everything.
She laughed.
No, you don't understand. She laughed her no-holding-back-Rina-laugh! I don't even remember what she laughed at, some witty remark from the preacher I suppose, but who cares...she had laughed. And in that one laugh I heard, I saw, I connected with the bride-who-had-been-the girl-that-had-made-me-laugh many times before.
I settled back in my chair and watched the smiling audience, heard the earnest speaker and smiled at the bride...an inner peace flowed through me. Brides are still girls the were roomates who laughed and cried and made strange covenants...brides are the best!

Mitford Jewels

Books are like treasure-houses, spanned with room after room of contrasting but equaly magnitzing outlay and decor. Some are intriguing in their imagination-stirring newness, others are dark and noble, deep with recesses of inspiration and others are comfortable like a meal with old friends or the put-on feel of my favorite winter jacket. But my favorite books include all the rooms in a mesmerizing seemless tour. Such is the first of the Mitford Series: At Home in Mitford by Jan Karon. A yarn about a batchelor rector in a village. I'll include some conversational jewels.

"When it comes to feeding his sheep, I'm afraid my sermons are about as nourishing as cardboard."
"Are you resting?"
"Resting?"
"Resting. Sometimes we get so worm out with being usefeul that we get useless. I'll ask you what another preacher once asked: Are you too exhausted to run and too scared to rest?"

"That man is the' richest whose pleasures are th' cheapest!"

"...telling a lie is like eating peanuts. One leads to another. In no time at all, you've gone through a bag full...worst of all you become a slave to something that isn't real."

"I've learned not to live on any promises other than God's..."