"When in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes,
I all alone beweep my outcast state
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries
And look upon myself and curse my fate,
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
Featured like him, like him with friends possess'd,
Desiring this man's art and that man's scope,
With what I most enjoy contented least;
Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,
Haply I think on Thee, and then my state,
Like to the lark at break of day arising
From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate;
For Thy sweet love remember'd such wealth brings
That then I scorn to change my state with kings."
--William Shakespeare, Sonnet 29
Monday, February 28, 2011
Saturday, February 12, 2011
I'll Have an Old-Fashioned
So I was at WalMart last week, and brought my spiffy new turquoise daytimer for 2011 along because I thought I might be getting a call back on an appointment and would need to check my schedule. I don't know how it happened, but somewhere between the checkout line and my car I lost it. I ransacked my brain and retraced all of my steps mentally and came to the conclusion I'd simply forgotten to take it out of the cart. Must have been a spacy day.
Anyway, I go back that night to WalMart's Customer Service, and I ask the guy at the counter if anyone has turned in a daytimer. He stares at me blankly, and slowly sounds out "day-ti-mer", like he's just learned Hooked on Phonics. I emphatically repeat--"daytimer". I glance at his name tag to see if he's foreign, but his name is Paul. He wanders off with an "I have no clue" expression in his eyes, and asks his manager, who reports that nothing has been turned in. So I try the checkout line I went through, and there's a new shift cashier. I ask her if she's seen a turquoise daytimer around her counter, and she says, "What?", like I'm speaking gibberish. I say, it's like a book that you can write in. She smiles blankly. I tell her thanks anyway, and determine to check back in the morning.
Come morning, I decide to try a new tactic. I go back to Customer Service and ask the girl behind the counter if I could check the lost and found for a...planner. "It's turquoise, and it--" "I have it right here", she interrupts, with a knowing smirk. There it is! I thank her profusely, and thank the Lord for its safe return.
Fastforward to today. I'm at work doing the crazy Saturday run-like-a-chicken-with-your-head-cut-off routine where my feet and mouth are going one way and my brain is sprinting to keep up. It's prom season, so I'm helping little girls with moms and girls with dads and girls with girls try on dresses meant for someone 6'3''. In the midst of restringing delicate chiffon on shaky hangers, a girl comes up to me out of the blue and asks, "Do you have a Droid?" I blink and say, "Excuse me?" In my head I think, "no, I don't even have a clap-on lamp, and could hardly afford C3PO..." She then wiggles her phone at me and bemoans the fact that she doesn't even know how to use her new droid and is asking everyone she can for help. I do the best I can, and direct her to the Apple store in the mall, and she says they probably wouldn't appreciate it if she brought in her Motorola. Well, what do I know?
So--no one uses the word daytimer anymore. They all have a Blackberry. I always thought that was a good flavor pairing with white chocolate in a latte. As for droids, I wouldn't know one if it beeped morse code and bit me. Have I become relegated to the stone age? Am I a relic at the ripe old age of 32? I always thought it was old people who cling to how they were brought up and what they knew in their prime. I can't be one of those--or can I??
I'll tell you what: I'm going to keep on watching Philadelphia Story with Katharine Hepburn, Carey Grant and Jimmy Stewart and wearing red lipstick like a 40's starlet and playing my acoustic guitar that's twice the size of my torso. And I'm only going to eat good donuts (not Krispy Kremes), and when I come up to the counter I'm going to ask for my favorite--an old-fashioned.
Anyway, I go back that night to WalMart's Customer Service, and I ask the guy at the counter if anyone has turned in a daytimer. He stares at me blankly, and slowly sounds out "day-ti-mer", like he's just learned Hooked on Phonics. I emphatically repeat--"daytimer". I glance at his name tag to see if he's foreign, but his name is Paul. He wanders off with an "I have no clue" expression in his eyes, and asks his manager, who reports that nothing has been turned in. So I try the checkout line I went through, and there's a new shift cashier. I ask her if she's seen a turquoise daytimer around her counter, and she says, "What?", like I'm speaking gibberish. I say, it's like a book that you can write in. She smiles blankly. I tell her thanks anyway, and determine to check back in the morning.
Come morning, I decide to try a new tactic. I go back to Customer Service and ask the girl behind the counter if I could check the lost and found for a...planner. "It's turquoise, and it--" "I have it right here", she interrupts, with a knowing smirk. There it is! I thank her profusely, and thank the Lord for its safe return.
Fastforward to today. I'm at work doing the crazy Saturday run-like-a-chicken-with-your-head-cut-off routine where my feet and mouth are going one way and my brain is sprinting to keep up. It's prom season, so I'm helping little girls with moms and girls with dads and girls with girls try on dresses meant for someone 6'3''. In the midst of restringing delicate chiffon on shaky hangers, a girl comes up to me out of the blue and asks, "Do you have a Droid?" I blink and say, "Excuse me?" In my head I think, "no, I don't even have a clap-on lamp, and could hardly afford C3PO..." She then wiggles her phone at me and bemoans the fact that she doesn't even know how to use her new droid and is asking everyone she can for help. I do the best I can, and direct her to the Apple store in the mall, and she says they probably wouldn't appreciate it if she brought in her Motorola. Well, what do I know?
So--no one uses the word daytimer anymore. They all have a Blackberry. I always thought that was a good flavor pairing with white chocolate in a latte. As for droids, I wouldn't know one if it beeped morse code and bit me. Have I become relegated to the stone age? Am I a relic at the ripe old age of 32? I always thought it was old people who cling to how they were brought up and what they knew in their prime. I can't be one of those--or can I??
I'll tell you what: I'm going to keep on watching Philadelphia Story with Katharine Hepburn, Carey Grant and Jimmy Stewart and wearing red lipstick like a 40's starlet and playing my acoustic guitar that's twice the size of my torso. And I'm only going to eat good donuts (not Krispy Kremes), and when I come up to the counter I'm going to ask for my favorite--an old-fashioned.
Monday, February 7, 2011
Wait Here for the Present
Puns--Sometimes considered the lowest form of humor, they can often be pretty profound. I find myself punning whenever possible. Tonight I was struck by the phrase "Wait here for the present". Sounds Biblical, doesn't it? But actually, that line was written by Beverly Cleary who wrote the Ramona the Pest kid series.
In one story, Ramona is going to school for the first time as a "big kid". She adores her new teacher, Miss Binney, and is willing to do whatever she says. When Miss Binney is assigning initial seating, she parks Ramona at a desk and admonishes her to "wait here for the present". As a first-grader, Ramona believes that she is the teacher's new favorite, because she's going to get a present! The day drags on, and Miss Binney is perplexed when she sends the kids out to recess because Ramona won't budge--her legs are locked to the desk until she gets her gift. When the confusion comes out, Miss Binney stumbles her way through making Ramona understand that "the present" also means "for now". Ramona is crestfallen, and joins the painful ranks of all the kids and adults who learn things aren't what they seem.
In an earlier time, the disciples were told by Jesus to "wait for the promised Holy Spirit". They had the same tenacity in prayer and sense of expectation that Ramona had, but in their case, the promise was fulfilled. The Holy Spirit of God swept in like a wind, flaming tongues of fire lit above their heads, and they all were filled with the Spirit and spoke in other languages as the Holy Spirit enabled them. The present they received was not just for them, but for everyone who received it.
"The present"--now. I wonder, is the "present-now" really our gift? Is the "waiting" really just abiding in another form? Should I simply abide? And how do I do that more fully? It seems, like the disciples, that I must press in, must tarry for the good, and when it comes, embrace it fully; be fully engaged in the present-now, and wait with expectation for the gift. Yes, I have had my bitter disappointments and confusion like Ramona, but I know that my present here-and-now is good because God is in it. Just like He brought the Holy Spirit to the needy world, He will bring to me the gift, the present that I need for myself and others. And when it comes, Watch out! It's gonna be quite a surprise.
In one story, Ramona is going to school for the first time as a "big kid". She adores her new teacher, Miss Binney, and is willing to do whatever she says. When Miss Binney is assigning initial seating, she parks Ramona at a desk and admonishes her to "wait here for the present". As a first-grader, Ramona believes that she is the teacher's new favorite, because she's going to get a present! The day drags on, and Miss Binney is perplexed when she sends the kids out to recess because Ramona won't budge--her legs are locked to the desk until she gets her gift. When the confusion comes out, Miss Binney stumbles her way through making Ramona understand that "the present" also means "for now". Ramona is crestfallen, and joins the painful ranks of all the kids and adults who learn things aren't what they seem.
In an earlier time, the disciples were told by Jesus to "wait for the promised Holy Spirit". They had the same tenacity in prayer and sense of expectation that Ramona had, but in their case, the promise was fulfilled. The Holy Spirit of God swept in like a wind, flaming tongues of fire lit above their heads, and they all were filled with the Spirit and spoke in other languages as the Holy Spirit enabled them. The present they received was not just for them, but for everyone who received it.
"The present"--now. I wonder, is the "present-now" really our gift? Is the "waiting" really just abiding in another form? Should I simply abide? And how do I do that more fully? It seems, like the disciples, that I must press in, must tarry for the good, and when it comes, embrace it fully; be fully engaged in the present-now, and wait with expectation for the gift. Yes, I have had my bitter disappointments and confusion like Ramona, but I know that my present here-and-now is good because God is in it. Just like He brought the Holy Spirit to the needy world, He will bring to me the gift, the present that I need for myself and others. And when it comes, Watch out! It's gonna be quite a surprise.
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