Archive for October, 2005

Christian

Saturday, October 29th, 2005

Christian will be twelve tomorrow. It hardly seems possible that he has been a part of our lives for so many years, and yet, it is difficult to remember life without him.

I must confess: I was very worried about this whole adolescence thing at one time. I thought he might turn into a creature I didn’t know or understand overnight once he entered middle school. The thought that we wouldn’t speak the same language anymore crossed my mind more than once. But it hasn’t happened in any significant or negative ways – at least not yet. He has, instead, grown up in such delightful ways – the kinds of ways that create the desire to keep company with him even more than before. He is curious, conversational, and (not least of all) thoughtful. Yes, sometimes he can be annoying like all early adolescents. But for the most part, he’s a fantastic kid, and I want to know and understand the young man that is emerging.

Apparently some of the language of early adolescents is still the same as in the time of my youth. Christian told me the other day that one of the things that separates middle school from elementary is that whenever someone is called to the office (for whatever reason), the whole class intones, “Oooo! Busted!” It could simply be to pick up the peanut butter and jelly sandwich one forgot at home, but the response is always the same. Some things never change, or at the very least, change slowly. The individuation and formation of identity apart from the world of “Children Dependent on Adults” begins in earnest during this time and is a necessary component in healthy development. It still leaves a parent with some pangs though.

I enjoy Christian’s sense of humor more and more now, too. He has a love for the absurd that is shared by his friends at school, and I love it when he tells me about the ridiculous things they do or talk about. The latest is the “Dorks R Us” club, which doesn’t sound terribly absurd and even gave me cause for worry at first that he would identify himself in what I would consider a demeaning way. As it turns out, however, half of the sixth grade boys are involved and they hold such ridiculous offices as “Janitor”, “Body Guard”, “Calculator”, “Dictionary That Spells But Doesn’t Define”, and other positions that reflect the toilet humor (clean, if that makes sense) of early adolescent boys. Christian has the distinct privilege of holding the offices of both “Calculator” and “Dictionary That Spells…” They all get “paid” for their positions, but no one knows quite why, and this makes it all the funnier to Christian.

I finished a book (Gilead) the other day in which a dying father writes a long letter to his young son. This father, at one point, says,

“In every important way we are such secrets from each other, and I do believe that there is a separate language in each of us, also a separate aesthetics and a separate jurisprudence. Every single one of us is a little civilization built on the ruins of any number of preceding civilizations, but with our own variant notions of what is beautiful and what is acceptable – which, I hasten to add, we generally do not satisfy and by which we struggle to live. We take fortuitous resemblances among us to be actual likeness, because those around us have also fallen heir to the same customs, trade in the same coin, acknowledge, more or less, the same notions of decency and sanity. But all that really just allows us to coexist with the inviolable, untraversable, and utterly vast spaces between.”

I know that I don’t really know my son in any real sense. I don’t know what thoughts whisper to him in the quiet of his mind, and I don’t truly understand the person he is becoming – for that matter, neither does he. It is the way with adolescents. Adolescence, if done right, is all about discovery of oneself. But I hope that along the way and afterward there will be enough “fortuitous resemblances” to create a feeling of understanding and healthy companionship, making the spaces between us less vast and daunting.

And so this year my “Happy Birthday” for Christian carries with it the wish for a successful journey and the reassurance that there will always be a safe place to stop and rest along the way.

Sea and Sun

Thursday, October 27th, 2005

Last week I went to Florida for 4 days (before Wilma). A friend and I went down to visit a retired couple that we have grown to love and appreciate. We were spoiled and waited on until it was sometimes uncomfortable, but I did my level best to push aside those fleeting feelings of discomfort.

We spent many hours on the beach in bright sun, clouds, and waning sunlight. The sand, water, and air were glorious. I couldn’t help but think about the dialogue in Return of the King in which Gandalf tells Pippin that death is just the continuation of a journey in which one wakens to silver shores. I sincerely hope that in the afterlife I will be able to enjoy the warmth of the sand and water and the swells of the ocean. The many colors of the sea and the smells that accompany the seashore act as a balm to me and set my heart at peace. Perhaps that is one of the reasons “O the Deep, Deep Love of Jesus” likens Christ’s love to the ocean: Not only is it immeasurable and untamable like the ocean, it brings a sense of well-being and fills the senses with pleasure and peace. Some day I hope I will fully understand this very thing.

Lindy-bot

Wednesday, October 26th, 2005

This is a post courtesy of John.


Benediction

Sunday, October 9th, 2005

In the name of the father, son, and holy toast. Amen.

Holy Toast

Wounds at Midtown

Saturday, October 8th, 2005

Carnage is all around us at Midtown. A month or two ago, two of the kids that attend fairly regularly arrived home from a trip with their mother to find their father dead in their house from causes of which we have not been informed. Horrific events like this do not occur everyday in the neighborhood, but neglect, substance abuse, and broken relationships are routine and commonplace to many of these folks, although shocking to some of us.

But the woundedness around us does not exist only in the people and children of the neighborhood. It exists in the core families and college students who attend on a regular basis. Many are on medication for depression and anxiety. Others are nearly suicidal, while still others suffer from the traumatic events of a recent or far distant past. Numerous members have been wounded by other Christians or churches and have at one time (or, indeed, even in the present!) contemplated giving up the faith that has become such a disillusionment to them.

If we could see the hurts of our dear ones as physical injuries, we would no doubt see much blood and gore: limbs missing, arrows through the heart, tremendous head wounds – all of these in addition to the bruises and gashes that occur as a result of the normal dangers of being human.

We are a sorry, ragtag bunch of people, and for that I am grateful. I am glad that I can be honest about my struggles with these good people – that in my own woundedness there is always a desire to help bind up the wounds of others as they help me with mine.