Icy street, hazy skyline.  

Out my front door this morning... sleet, not snow, has covered Hotlanta.  

Ah yes.

So, I remembered why I wanted to come to seminary.
I had these beliefs
about faith and service and justice,
specifically about service and justice being
products of faith.
I felt assured, peaceful -- maybe too calm -- with my faith,
and felt that faith inspires the desire to serve others
and to see them treated well and healthy and happy.

So I had that idea
that was more like a foundation
for everything else for me.
And I didn't know where that came from.
Obviously, it came most directly from my minister parents,
indirectly from the lives of my grandparents,
and from the even more removed lives of
people like Martin Luther King, Jr. and Eleanor Roosevelt
who couldn't bear injustice
when justice could be so beautiful
so much closer to God's intention.

So I felt called through my faith to serve others,
and I could explain it
but I didn't know where my explanation originated.
I knew my dad read me theology books when I was little
but I don't remember who said what or why.

Well, today I'm reading Luther
and there it all is.
Just what I believe, right on the page.
I haven't finished reading
and there are some things I disagree with --
at least one snide sexist and anti-semetic remark --
but also there is the premise that guides me.
People are not destined to salvation/justification/righteousness
but they are not required anything more than faith,
and the works come as an expression of love to God and neighbor.
Works do not equal grace, but grace can/should lead to works.

I think that's right.

I wanted to figure out
why I believe
what I believe.

Classes

Oh, I swapped Preaching
for Mission and International Healthcare.
Whew.

I was/am soooo not ready for preaching.
I would like to gain a broader (um, any) theological basis
and biblical understanding
prior to having to spout sermons on the spot.
I think I could have squeaked through the class,
maybe even done okay,
but that is not what I, eventually, want out of the class.

Am I ready for Mission and International Healthcare?
Who can say...
But I am interested in mission
and I would like to know more (than nothing) about healthcare.
Admittedly, I lack knowledge about healthcare,
but that's why I'm in the class.
And the professor is emphatic that health and faith are linked.
That's what I got out of today's class.
Rock on.

Breathing

I can't.
I am clogged.
No kidding.
And it is mildly miserable.

But it did motivate me to make soup.
Homemade.
For the first time ever.
Rock on, me.
It is vegetable beef
and includes
carrotsonionscelerypotatoestomatoescornlimabeansgreenbeans
and barley.
I think it's real good.
I don't really know though
since smell directly affects taste
and breathing, or the lack of, directly affects smell.
But it is pretty.
And Dana said it smelled good.

I feel crappy.
But tomorrow I will have new cereal for breakfast
and soup for lunch.
Rock on.

Here's something

from the book "Inspiration Sandwich" by SARK

I love it when people say, "You can't do that."
It's like hearing "I dare you."

When I went to Europe alone at age 19, these same people said, "Switzerland is very expensive. You can't expect to live there." So of course, I went to Switzerland immediately, and met a man in Zermatt looking for a housesitter for his chalet that had just been built into the side of a mountain, accessible only by chairlift.

Years ago, in the Bahamas, I had no money, and was tired of sleeping in the lounge chairs by the pool. I went to one of the big hotels and asked to see the manager. I told him that I would like to babysit or teach swimming in exchange for a room. He just looked at me, and then reached into a drawer, took out a set of keys and pushed them across the desk. "Take these. I was young and broke once too." The keys opened the door to a penthouse on the top floor. I lived there for a month.

I like to take the impossibles and make them possible.
I believe that we need to go to where we want to be, and the resources will follow us.
Impossible means I'm possible!
Plant all your impossible gardens and see what blooms!

Class is in Session

[an attempt to recreate the post I lost]


I really like being here.
In Atlanta. At Candler.
With these friends. In this community.
Of theologians and academic-junkies
and pastors and revolutionaries.

I really like learning.
I like being a "grad student"
and getting a discount at the movies.
I like books.
But going to class?
Reading assignments? Writing papers? Tests?
I'm not so sure.

I'm taking Intro to Preaching.
I don't know why.
I don't like preaching.
I've done it some, so I know.
I don't want to preach.
I heard the professor was phenomenal
and when I heard her preach I was impressed.
So I'm taking Preaching.
In class today she talked about
prophetic preaching and Revelation and
I'm not sure I'm down with that.

Last week
in the used book store I went to three times
because they were having a rockin' sale,
a long-haired man questioned my cynicism.
Dana and I were scoffing
at books with titles like
God's Playbook
and The Bible's Answers to Life's Questions.
"Oh! Here are the answers! Why are we in seminary?"
And the long-haired eavesdropper
(okay, we weren't hard to hear)
came over with his query.
"If you don't mind me asking,
why are you in seminary?"
Taken aback
at our jokes being analyzed,
Dana and I shot each other a look
and I attempted to explain
my former life
in social work/social justice
and my desire to do that through the church and
with a theological basis.

Since then I've been thinking about
why I am in seminary.
But it's really a continuation of my ponderings
prompted by the Christmas-letter-writing-process
which highlighted my accomplishments and interactions
working with issues
like homelessness and disabilities
pre-Atlanta,
and my mere class attendance
and extensive babysitting
in Atlanta.

So why am I in seminary?
I wasn't really sure why I applied.
I wasn't really sure when I got here.
I wonder if I'll know by the time I graduate
in two and a half years.

Today
my answer is that
I want to gain a basic understanding
of major theological movements and figures
and hone my counseling and social change skills.

Tonight
I must read about the Jewish Bible (aka Old Testament).

Tomorrow
I will change the world.

I have work to do.

Are you kidding me?

I just wrote a long
wonderful post.
And it disappeared.
Damnation.

Dana's TV Dinner Manifesto

Practicing Our Faith: Library

She's published!
Rock on!
And now more insight may be gained...

TV Dinners

food, fun, fellowship

my friend Dana has a manifesto
concerning our TV Dinners.
(TV = Turner Village, our apt. complex;
Dinners = potluck)
she sees it as a practice of our small community
within a small community
within the church
within the world.
we have identified common themes:
cook/host serves main dish from kitchen
conversation moves between theology, music and movies
drew eats a lot

first TV dinner of the new year
last night at my apt.
breakfast theme
with french toast as the main dish
and bacon, sausage, biscuits, fruit salad,
and mimosas!
or just plain juice.
conversation went as predicted
starting with theology
moving to music and movies.

and i was glad to be home.
(later i'll do my own manifesto on "Home")
rock on.

Instant gratification

Like a fun new haircut
I love contact lenses
in that they change my appearance
so drastically
from the dark frames
I've been stuck with for 3 weeks.

Hooray for face freedom

Back to the big city (and a reflection on pets)

ATL = home for me
right now.

After a whirlwind few weeks
it's nice to have a stable place to be.
Here's where I went:
ATL to Greenwood, SC
to Kershaw, SC
to Gainesville, FL
to Tallahassee, FL
to Saluda, SC
to Kershaw, SC
to Charleston, SC
to Kershaw, SC
to Columbia, SC
to ATL.

I had a nearly entirely lovely time
and saw lots of friends and family.
I gave presents and got presents.
I gave hugs and got hugs.
I laughed, I cried.

My favorite cat died this week.
The first George
who I got ten years ago
when my brother got diabetes and a puppy.
George was orange with long lovely fur
and a regal attitude and he was beautiful.
And he had a fluffy butt.
And in the sunlight his fur looked pinkish
and when we first got him my grandma kept saying
"silly pink cat! don't you know cats aren't supposed to be pink?"
For the last 5 or so years George lived with her.

I feel a bit odd about pet grief.
Makes me think of Natalie Portman
in Garden State.
We've had lots of cats
and a few dogs.
No pet cemetary, though,
but I bet there are lots of parsonages
with kitties buried under backyard trees.
And I've had two fish:
The Grand Empress Willemina
and Gabriel.

I'm not good at fish.
And I don't love dogs:
too much energy and need for assistance.
I don't want to have to take a walk
at someone else's whim.

But cats!
Cats I love.
Cats I can identify with.
Cats are independent but loving
adventurous but not afraid of a midday nap
beautiful and graceful and silly.

That's what I'm thinking
now
upon return to Atlanta
and reflection on George.

I said there would be photos

First there's the ice storm
Second the butterflies
I saw with the family
and Grandma after Christmas.

Butterfly rainforest 

Butterfly rainforest 

Post Christmas ice storm en route to Florida