I am the first to admit that I’ve probably forgotten a couple driving rules in the last ten years (since I took driver’s ed), but there are some things that are just…common sense. Living in Bloomington for the past 7 years, I have come to believe that there is an invisible bubble around the city; when you pass through the bubble, you turn into a bad driver. So, because there are so many bad drivers and I am so tired of getting annoyed, here are some of the rules of the road…just in case you’re wondering.
Red Lights. When a light is red, STOP. I have not taken off at a green light for years. This is because I have not sat at a green light in longer than I can remember where someone didn’t run the red in the opposite direction. And I’m not talking those “wow, I didn’t realize it was going to turn that fast” or even the “I just wasn’t paying attention” kind of running the light. I am talking about the no questions asked, bigger than life, “I am going and you can just sit there forever and I don’t care” kind of running the red light. Unless your life is in danger, or you are about to give birth, SLOW YOUR BUTT DOWN. Leave earlier or resign yourself to being late. Stop trying to either kill yourself or get other people killed.
Tailgating. Riding my bumper. Whatever you want to call it, stop. Getting close enough to see what is in the back of my hatch in your SUV does not make me drive faster. In fact, I slow down, just to spite you. And no, your exasperated shaking of the hands and motioning for me to move faster does not work either.
Along the same lines, please pay attention to speed limits. I don’t like to tailgate anymore than I like people doing it to me, but the fact remains…going 10 in a 40 is just not okay.
If you no longer feel comfortable driving, because of age or otherwise, please do everyone on the road a favor and just stop doing it. I love my grandparents, but sometimes I think driving stopped being a good idea long ago.
Stop signs, like red lights, actually mean something. The “I get to go first because I just won’t stop moving” theory does not work with me. Stop your car at the sign. Rolling through at 5:15 in the middle of rush hour traffic is really not a good idea at all.
Turn signals. If you’re not turning, they shouldn’t be on. The opposite is also true. Use them appropriately.
When you are pulling up to a stop sign and there is traffic coming through that does not have to stop, please do not careen to the sign like a bat out of hell. It scares the driver coming toward you and puts her in a grumpy mood, especially if you proceed to then do any of the above.
Parking. Those lines on the pavement are there for a reason. Please place your car, at the correct angle, within the lines. Try and make it even. Do not park so close to me that I have to crawl through my passenger seat to get behind the wheel.
Headlights. When it is dark, dusk, or rainy, please use them. Especially if your car is the color of rain, pavement, or snow.
The Rotary. No, you do not have to wait until it is completely empty to take your turn. That is why the signs are those funny triangle YIELD signs and not the bright red STOP signs. However, if someone is coming right toward you, please do not try and beat them through the turn. You will make them slam on their brakes and they may even cuss at you.
Just some helpful advice for Bloomington drivers, and those everywhere…
11.18.2004
11.12.2004
Darkness & Light
At our cores, we're all just scared people roaming through the dark, and we survive with help from one another.
I read the above quote on in an article I was reading online the other day. I don’t remember the article, but that sentence definitely caught my eye and made me think.
The world is a dark place. I am reminded of that every day as I watch the news, read the latest updates on the web, and turn on the radio. In Bloomington on Tuesday a 24 year old woman was killed by a man who was drugged up on opiates and cocaine. She was a teacher. He was a repeat offender. She is dead; he is still alive. It’s a dark world.
Last night on the news there was a story about a man who is stalking the streets of Broadripple; accused of raping on woman and attempting to rape another. It’s a dark world.
Children are attacking children, families are being destroyed. War rages. Darkness.
Missionaries and followers of Christ are killed somewhere in the world every four minutes. Darkness.
It’s easy to get caught up in the darkness; it’s everywhere. It’s easy to see only the dark parts of our own lives, as well. We have all failed, there is a secret in each of us that we don’t want to let anyone else see. Each of us carry our own piece of the darkness.
Then I read the other half of this quote, and I am filled with nothing but hope. “We survive with help from one another.” The best part of that sentence isn’t that we survive, but that we do it together.
At church for the last 3 months, we have been studying the book of Revelation. The final sermon was last Sunday, and it was about Heaven. I have never felt a longing to go Home like I did that morning. I have never let the words, “we will dance on the streets that are golden” seep so deeply into my heart. Heaven is going to be beyond words, and yet I was reminded that since I’m not there yet, there is still something left for me to do here.
My response? I will survive this crazy, dark, and depressing world. I will not only survive, but I will be the light that is alluded to in the above quote. I will help my family, my friends, and the strangers I meet. I will help them to navigate the darkness and find the light.
Because it is a dark world, and we can survive it and make it a little brighter. Together.
I read the above quote on in an article I was reading online the other day. I don’t remember the article, but that sentence definitely caught my eye and made me think.
The world is a dark place. I am reminded of that every day as I watch the news, read the latest updates on the web, and turn on the radio. In Bloomington on Tuesday a 24 year old woman was killed by a man who was drugged up on opiates and cocaine. She was a teacher. He was a repeat offender. She is dead; he is still alive. It’s a dark world.
Last night on the news there was a story about a man who is stalking the streets of Broadripple; accused of raping on woman and attempting to rape another. It’s a dark world.
Children are attacking children, families are being destroyed. War rages. Darkness.
Missionaries and followers of Christ are killed somewhere in the world every four minutes. Darkness.
It’s easy to get caught up in the darkness; it’s everywhere. It’s easy to see only the dark parts of our own lives, as well. We have all failed, there is a secret in each of us that we don’t want to let anyone else see. Each of us carry our own piece of the darkness.
Then I read the other half of this quote, and I am filled with nothing but hope. “We survive with help from one another.” The best part of that sentence isn’t that we survive, but that we do it together.
At church for the last 3 months, we have been studying the book of Revelation. The final sermon was last Sunday, and it was about Heaven. I have never felt a longing to go Home like I did that morning. I have never let the words, “we will dance on the streets that are golden” seep so deeply into my heart. Heaven is going to be beyond words, and yet I was reminded that since I’m not there yet, there is still something left for me to do here.
My response? I will survive this crazy, dark, and depressing world. I will not only survive, but I will be the light that is alluded to in the above quote. I will help my family, my friends, and the strangers I meet. I will help them to navigate the darkness and find the light.
Because it is a dark world, and we can survive it and make it a little brighter. Together.
11.11.2004
Speak to Me
In a day where frustrations are running high and I feel like an emotional fruitcake, this song is there. We used to sing it long ago is CSF. I miss it. It's pretty powerful.
Speak to me Lord for your child is here listening
Speak to me Lord for your child is here waiting on you
Unveil my eyes let me see...see you
Unveil my heart let me know...know you
Father do
You are the true God the one living Lord...
FatherYou are the true God the one living Lord...
Father You
Unveil my eyes let me see...see you
Unveil my heart let me know...know you
Father do
Jesus, Your word stands forever
Changing me forever
Speak to me Lord for your child is here listening
Speak to me Lord for your child is here waiting on you
Unveil my eyes let me see...see you
Unveil my heart let me know...know you
Speak to me Lord for your child is here
-Rebecca St. James
And all that is left to say is "Amen."
Speak to me Lord for your child is here listening
Speak to me Lord for your child is here waiting on you
Unveil my eyes let me see...see you
Unveil my heart let me know...know you
Father do
You are the true God the one living Lord...
FatherYou are the true God the one living Lord...
Father You
Unveil my eyes let me see...see you
Unveil my heart let me know...know you
Father do
Jesus, Your word stands forever
Changing me forever
Speak to me Lord for your child is here listening
Speak to me Lord for your child is here waiting on you
Unveil my eyes let me see...see you
Unveil my heart let me know...know you
Speak to me Lord for your child is here
-Rebecca St. James
And all that is left to say is "Amen."
11.03.2004
Why make dirty what is beautiful?
I recently finished reading the phenomenal book “Life of Pi” by Yann Martel. I had wanted to read it for a long time and was assured that it was a powerful book; one that would make even those who never believed in God knows He was real. Immediately, I was intrigued. This is a fiction book about a boy who practices three religions with passion: Hinduism, Islam, and Christianity.
It was his discussion of faith and meeting Jesus Christ that first touched and stirred me. I read this book slowly, which is uncommon for me. I usually devour books with rapid intensity, speed-reading large portions of dialog at a time. This story, however, compelled me to read slowly and to truly embrace each word and each thought. Here is just a sampling of what captivated me so…
…and what a Story. The first thing that drew me in was disbelief. What? Humanity sins but it’s God’s Son who pays the price?
...What a downright weird story. What peculiar psychology. I asked for another story, one that I might find more satisfying. Surely this religion had more that one story in its bag—religions abound with stories. But Father Martin made me understand that the stories that came before it, and there were many, were simply prologue to the Christians. Their religion had one Story, and to it they came back again and again, over and over.
That a god should put up with adversity, I could understand…But divinity should not be blighted by death. It’s wrong. The world soul cannot die, even in one contained part of it. That is tantamount to letting a part of Himself to die. For if the Son is to die, it cannot be fake. If God on the Cross is God shamming a human tragedy, it turns the Passion of Christ into the Farce of Christ. The death of the Son must be real. Farther Martin assured me that it was. But once a dead God, always a dead God, even resurrected. The Son must have the taste of death forever in His mouth. The horror must be real. Why would God wish that upon Himself? Why not leave death to the mortals? Why make dirty what is beautiful, spoil what is perfect?
Love. That was Father Martin’s answer.
This Son…who goes hungry, who suffers from thirst, who gets tired, who is sad, who is anxious, who is heckled and harassed, who has to put up with followers who don’t get it and opponents who don’t respect Him—what kind of God is that? … This Son is a god who spent more of His time telling stories, talking. This Son is a god who walked, a pedestrian god—and in a hot place, at that—with a stride like any human stride, the sandal reaching just above the rocks along the way; and when He splurged on transportation, it was a regular donkey. This Son is a god who died in three hours, with moans, gasps, and laments. What kind of God is that? What is there to inspire this Son?
Love.
…He bothered me, this Son. Every day I burned with greater indignation against Him, found more flaws to Him…I couldn’t get Him out of my head. Still can’t. I spent three solid days thinking about Him. The more He bothered me, the less I could forget Him. And the more I learned about Him, the less I wanted to leave Him.
Wow. That’s just pieces of about 6 pages in the book, but they speak so deeply to me. And, for those that don’t know Him, it is such a deeply real depiction of the questions and longing that go with searching for God. Who is He? This doesn’t make sense? Why would He die for me?
The answer is always the same.
Love.
I wish I felt more like little Pi more often; I wish I could try and trust and love and search for Him the same way. Because I want the last sentence I above to be my life… “The more I learned about Him, the less I wanted to leave Him.” The more I learn about Christ, the more I want to be near Him, to be loved by Him and held close by Him.
It was his discussion of faith and meeting Jesus Christ that first touched and stirred me. I read this book slowly, which is uncommon for me. I usually devour books with rapid intensity, speed-reading large portions of dialog at a time. This story, however, compelled me to read slowly and to truly embrace each word and each thought. Here is just a sampling of what captivated me so…
…and what a Story. The first thing that drew me in was disbelief. What? Humanity sins but it’s God’s Son who pays the price?
...What a downright weird story. What peculiar psychology. I asked for another story, one that I might find more satisfying. Surely this religion had more that one story in its bag—religions abound with stories. But Father Martin made me understand that the stories that came before it, and there were many, were simply prologue to the Christians. Their religion had one Story, and to it they came back again and again, over and over.
That a god should put up with adversity, I could understand…But divinity should not be blighted by death. It’s wrong. The world soul cannot die, even in one contained part of it. That is tantamount to letting a part of Himself to die. For if the Son is to die, it cannot be fake. If God on the Cross is God shamming a human tragedy, it turns the Passion of Christ into the Farce of Christ. The death of the Son must be real. Farther Martin assured me that it was. But once a dead God, always a dead God, even resurrected. The Son must have the taste of death forever in His mouth. The horror must be real. Why would God wish that upon Himself? Why not leave death to the mortals? Why make dirty what is beautiful, spoil what is perfect?
Love. That was Father Martin’s answer.
This Son…who goes hungry, who suffers from thirst, who gets tired, who is sad, who is anxious, who is heckled and harassed, who has to put up with followers who don’t get it and opponents who don’t respect Him—what kind of God is that? … This Son is a god who spent more of His time telling stories, talking. This Son is a god who walked, a pedestrian god—and in a hot place, at that—with a stride like any human stride, the sandal reaching just above the rocks along the way; and when He splurged on transportation, it was a regular donkey. This Son is a god who died in three hours, with moans, gasps, and laments. What kind of God is that? What is there to inspire this Son?
Love.
…He bothered me, this Son. Every day I burned with greater indignation against Him, found more flaws to Him…I couldn’t get Him out of my head. Still can’t. I spent three solid days thinking about Him. The more He bothered me, the less I could forget Him. And the more I learned about Him, the less I wanted to leave Him.
Wow. That’s just pieces of about 6 pages in the book, but they speak so deeply to me. And, for those that don’t know Him, it is such a deeply real depiction of the questions and longing that go with searching for God. Who is He? This doesn’t make sense? Why would He die for me?
The answer is always the same.
Love.
I wish I felt more like little Pi more often; I wish I could try and trust and love and search for Him the same way. Because I want the last sentence I above to be my life… “The more I learned about Him, the less I wanted to leave Him.” The more I learn about Christ, the more I want to be near Him, to be loved by Him and held close by Him.
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