Do Something

There is a line in the movie Truman Show that I love. It is a scene where Truman (Jim Carrey) and his "wife" (Laura Linney) are fighting and she looks up at the hidden camera and says "Do Something!" Now Truman has never imagined that he lived in an artificial world, with an all seeing eye, until this moment; and from then on he sets on a path to finding out what kind of world he actually lives in. Sometimes I have felt like that...I am in a bad situation and it looks like it is only going to get worse...and I look to the all seeing eye in the sky and shout "Do Something!!" What am I expecting? The checkbook to balance, the car to start, the termites to disappear, the PET scan to be normal? I am holding in my hands the evidence of my battered life, and I want it to be all better, right now. I spent Saturday afternoon watching a live simulcast from the leadership at Partners in Health, and the stories of their service to the poor and destitute in far away places humbled me. Those ultra poor people, in their battered lives, do they look skyward and shout at the all seeing eye "Do Something?". Do they expect relief of any sort? Do they know God put it there, in our hands, as we decide whether to help them and do something...maybe not, but we do. What ever there is to do, do it all for the Glory of God, the all seeing eye... do something.

God School

It is a disservice to tell folks that if they would only put their trust in God, everything in life gets easier. Your children suddenly mind you, you get the promotion you have been passed over for, your car runs better, your relationships become more fulfilling. Not only is it a disservice, it is downright wrong. Once we put our trust in God, we enroll in God School. This school is in session every single day, we have daily tests and quizzes, we have mountains of homework. Graduation day is the day we leave this earth and stand in front of Him, and He says "Well done, good and faithful servant." Meanwhile, we are constantly faced with all the same challenges we have always had to face in school; taunters and teasers, cliques, disappointments, failure, pressure to succeed, insolence, repetition, boredom, and the finiteness of a brain that cannot understand hard concepts. We have good days too, of course, days when it all makes sense and we got our homework in on time, when we got picked first for dodgeball, and the popular kids made room for us at the lunch table, when we set the grade curve. God School is hard because it is designed to make us better, wiser, kinder, whole. More like Him, and that is good. No wonder it takes a lifetime.

Pink

I have been wearing my new pink wig all weekend. It is amazing how positive the responses are, even from perfect strangers at the Whole Foods Market. Maybe the folks that think I am a nut are less outspoken. At any rate, I have learned the best lesson about life and I have tested my hypothesis and found it to stand strong. When you have an emotional burden, weighted down with it to the point of breaking, you feel that in order to survive, the burden must be borne to others and thus shared, which would relieve the pain of carrying it. However, this does not actually provide the desired effect. Instead, those that are exposed to this burden may sympathize, or show concern or maybe even avoid you, and this can make you feel even worse when you realize that your pain is causing pain for others. No one can take the burden off your shoulders. No one can exchange your sorrow for joy. You must sow the seeds of joy yourself, with God's guidance. You must choose to plant these seeds and let their fruit create a sweet savor that attracts people. Your joy then becomes theirs, and they can, and will, give it back to you. Joy lifts the burden and carries it far away. One of the nine fruit of the Spirit...joy. I think it's color is pink.

Starting Over Again

Where we are is where we have been, there is nothing new under the sun, what has happened before will happen again...these are all thoughts from the Book of Ecclesiastes, which I just finished. Again. I used to dislike this book of the Old Testament, except for the part that was made famous in a song by the Byrds, because it was depressing. Life was all meaningless...eat, drink and be merry for tomorrow you die kind of stuff. Except for the last chapter, which talks about serving God. Now that I am older,  I better understand the writer's perspective on life, on life as it was understood before Jesus. Of course, it all looked so pointless, to work hard and save money just to leave it to those who would spend it for you. No hope of resurrection or redemption. The good and the wicked ending in the same way, without distinction or reward. I am glad that there is a New Testament, which brings hope to our lives. When we face our eventual departure from life, we can do it with hope and courage. When we determine that our remaining days will be spent in freedom from the battering of others', and our own, destructive words and actions, and take hold of the gift of life that is set before us, we will see how great the love of God is for us.

Playing with Dolls

I have a fascination for old dolls, ones made in the 1950's. These were not dolls that I played with as a child, because I was too young for these hard plastic, articulated and,then, costly dolls. I remember having a Patty Play Pal, and a Chatty Cathy, and, of course, Barbie. I liked Chatty Cathy because she had buck teeth like I did. Anyway, you can find all these old dolls on Ebay in various conditions, and for various prices. Some are new in the box, and I wonder where they have been for these past 50 years. I like to look at dolls when I am feeling sad, or worried about something. Maybe it is the reminder of the play of childhood, or the desire to have a little creature that I can manipulate however I choose. I was gathering Madame Alexander Cissette dolls a few years ago, and now it is Betsy McCall. I am selling the Cissettes on Ebay now, dressed in new little clothes that I made them, with little shoes and stockings and hats. They have imaginary lives, and go to imaginary parties all dressed up. Eternally young in face, even as the elastic that holds them together is aging and breaking and the plastic has stains and cracks. Somehow like us, yet able to keep that enigmatic expression. All it takes is a little care, and she is good as new.