Crisis-Control
What do you do at 4 in the morning when you’re car’s stuck in the half-foot drift of snow and ice left by the snowplow two days before, melted and refrozen to conform perfectly to your tire?
You man up, that’s what.
Did you know that when you have two-wheel drive it only takes one tire frozen in the snow to get you completely stuck? Assuming, of course, that an inch of ice is under the other tire and you have absolutely no traction to get you anywhere.
This morning I was panicked. I had to be at work at 4:30am (to open) and I didn’t have my supervisor’s phone number. And I was stuck. I shoved the car in neutral and tried to push it myself. I got it rocking pretty good, but as soon as I stopped, the tires would settle right back into their shallow ice grave. I considered waking my roommates. I hoped, dear God!, that a neighbor would come to my rescue. But the street was as silent as you’d expect in the middle of the night.
Finally, a flash of brilliance: Shovel. It gleamed under the patio light like a beacon. The ice-covered snow was rock hard, but I chipped at it and did my best to dig under it. I threw the shovel in the back seat and popped the car in reverse. Vroom. Dropped it down to first. Vroom. Back to reverse. I felt a little budge. Harder in reverse! Spin, tires, spin! I was free!
My adrenaline was pumping, so I blasted my music and yelled along all the way to work. No need for espresso this morning. Crises-control endorphins trump caffeine every time.
Filed under: 10 Minute Blogs | 2 Comments
Rob Bell, Philosopher
Thinking about all the drama Rob Bell is creating with his new book Love Wins and all the controversy his trailer stirred up (who does a trailer for a book?!) makes me dizzy and nauseated.
(When do you use nauseous and when do you use nauseated? Are they interchangeable?)
I was always a big Rob Bell fan. I loved simple way he presented his ideas, and the challenge he always presented to my carefully manicured Christianity.
I haven’t lost respect for him because he’s challenging mainstream evangelicals to rethink their doctrinal positions on heaven and hell. I’ve lost respect for him because he’s jumping all over the map: saying this here, then qualifying it several paragraphs or questions later. He won’t say directly what he believes.
I’ve finally come to a point in my own personal walk of Faith where I can accept that other people have different opinions of my own and still stand next to my own positions. I can, in most instances, articulate where I stand on an issue, but I don’t mind if someone brings to light a different perspective. There are certain areas where I have to say, “Well, I just don’t know.” And Rob Bell admits to doing the same thing. But he wrote a book. A book that we all seem to take as being some sort of theological gauge.
I was chatting with a friend recently about his book Velvet Elvis, which I definitely attribute some of my changed perceptive to the reading of, and she said she felt it was more of a philosophy book than a strict theological exegesis. It helps to think of it that way. Philosophers are allowed to talk in circles—or talk in what seems like circles to the rest of us, even if they claim to have it perfectly straight in their own minds.
The spinning circles of Rob Bell’s new philosophical concepts may make me dizzy, but I do believe they will change our views more than we realize.
Is Rob Bell a Universalist? Do you agree he’s talking in circles?
Filed under: 10 Minute Blogs | 4 Comments
Tags: Love Wins, Rob Bell, Universalist
The Gym Quitter
I’m one of those people.
The people I saw other people complain about on Facebook. The people I overheard other people whine about in the locker room. The people who quit their gym membership after only three months.
I have lots of excuses for why I quit: My trainer, who worked me out till I puked (and then some) my first day–I only worked out with him once, gave me weird looks while I was running around the track (pathetic, sad looks that said simultaneously “I’m so sorry” and “You’re such a weakling”); I didn’t know anyone at that gym and I would go more if I knew people (not necessarily true though); I feel self-conscious at the gym and would rather TurboJam it up in my unfinished basement; The weather’s getting warmer and a 3-mile nature walk followed by a 3-minute sprint seems much more appealing than a sweaty, smelly, mirror-filled building.
I was so determined that I was not going to be one of these people that I almost just kept paying the bill but never showing up. But then I realized I would become one of those people: someone who keeps paying the bill, but never shows up.
When I go to the gym I’m convinced that everyone in the place knows exactly when my last workout was, how little I’ve done since then, how far I’ve deterred from my weight loss goals, and how pathetically out of shape I really am. No matter the ridiculousness of these thoughts, I can’t shake them, so I usually just convince myself of the lie that I would say if someone actually confronted me with the problem: I’ve been so busy I haven’t made it back; I was sick, I couldn’t handle the chest phlegm and the running; I actually have been working out at home.
Regardless of my excuses and insecurities about the gym, I was determined to keep going. Until I realized that it would be cheaper in both the short-term and long-run to just buy myself a new set of Turbo workout videos. The night I realized that was the night I wrote up my cancellation letter.
My TurboFire DVDs are in the mail.
I’ll let you know how this system goes…
Filed under: journey | 4 Comments
Tags: Chalene Johnson, quitter, the gym, Turbo Fire, working out
One of my customers today was a very old man; he seemed older because he had a thick accent. German? I wasn’t sure if he couldn’t read, couldn’t see or couldn’t read English. He toddled over to the register to ask us what the shaker of cinnamon on the condiment bar was for. He pointed emphatically, eyes wide open, gray eyebrows arched. Could he use it? For his coffee? Is it cinnamon?
He sat at a table in the middle of the café and enjoyed his cheese danish unceremoniously. Ripped and tore at it. Maybe he had false teeth and it made it difficult for him to get a good bite. Maybe we just become less aware of ourselves with age.
He reminded me of Jacob Jankowski in Water for Elephants, except Jacob didn’t have an accent. What unforgettable tales did he hold in his sprightly mind that he wouldn’t be able to express to me even if I asked? How had the turns his life had taken dump him for a few quiet moments in a Starbucks in Minneapolis? What stories of heartbreak and triumph were scribbled in the corners of his memory?
He intrigued me, this old man with a foreign accent. It made me think: maybe it won’t be quite so bad to get old.
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Tags: accents, curious encounters, customers, Jacob Jankowski, old man, starbucks
A Blind Date Witnessed
Two brave souls met each other in person for the first time at 10 am on Monday at Starbucks. I was only their barista.
She walked in through the side door and didn’t see him sitting behind the coffee shelves, reading his newspaper. She quizzed us. Where is a man that looks like he’s about to meet a woman for the first time? Did I come to the right place? Are there more Starbucks along this road? That man around the coffee shelves has his phone out, we told her. We think he’s texting you. He says there’s no one standing at the counter. But here I am at the counter, she said. We think he couldn’t see you, we told her as we saw his head peek up over the shelves.
I missed the initial greeting. I didn’t see the awkward hug, if there was one, or the hopeful and wary smiles, if there were any. I didn’t see them blush, if either was embarrassed. Next thing I knew they were sitting back at his table. Newspaper still there but disregarded. They talked for over two hours. They laughed. She sat forward with her elbows just hanging off the table, interested in every word he said. He gestured reservedly, but she didn’t seem to notice the movement. Her eyes were locked on his.
I didn’t see them leave either. My coworkers and I giggled over the cute awkwardness of the scene we witnessed. They were brave souls, we thought. Brave indeed.
I wish them every happiness.
Filed under: Australia | 2 Comments
4 Stories
Jimmy’s story.
This is the house that Jimmy lives in. Soon he will be visited by a little ole missionary named Adam. Adam will journey to Guatemala to find Jimmy and tell him about the love of God. Jimmy will be so excited about this news and will immediately go tell all his friends what God has done for him. He will be healed from all ilnesses and will proclaim the Good News for the rest of his life.
Madrid’s Story
This is Madrid’s house in Trinidad. It has a little tin roof. Soon a little ole missionary (by the name of Tristan) will visit her and tell her about the awesome love of God. She will realize immediately how much God loves her and will be healed of all her illnesses and will become a preacher to all the nations of the earth. She will sing of God’s glory forever.
Davey’s Story
This is the thatched roof house that Davey lives in. He loves his little house in Nepal, but soon a little ole missionary named Michael will come tromping through his village to tell him the Good News of Jesus. Davey will be so elated that he can’t help but tell everyone how much God loves them. All his illnesses will be instantly healed, and he will make a dedication to serve God with all he has for the rest of his life.
Jonny’s Story
This is the tree that Jonny lives in in the jungle. His real name is Jungle Jonny. He lives in Peru, and a little ole missionary (named Danielle) is going to go visit him and tell him about the love of God. This will make Jonny very happy, and he will immediately give his life to Christ, be healed from all illnesses, and tell many others about the love of God, too.
Whose story will you write?
Filed under: adventure | Leave a Comment
Tags: Guatemala, houses, missionary, missions, Nepal, Peru, Teen Mania Missions, Trinidad, war stories
Goodbye Gramps
Last Friday my Grandfather, George Kibben, Jr., passed away. He had lived 89 incredible years (the last 18 of them without my Grandmother, which I think is impressive), and had so many amazing stories to tell. He had strong opinions and stronger values, and made a mean loaf of bread. He loved God deeply and did his best to show everyone just how important his faith was to him.
In his remembrance my sisters and I thought of 12 ways you could tell Gramps had been to visit. I’d like to share them with you:
- A giant motorhome is taking up the whole driveway. (Ahh the days of the open road.)
- The pantry is stocked with three months worth of homemade spaghetti sauce.
- The cats are nowhere to be found. (He was a self-professed cat-hater.)
- There are three loaves of bread in the making: one in the bowl, one raising on the countertop, one in the oven.
- The house has a faint smell of old man cologne and moth balls. (Gramps was well-known for his propensity for stowing mothballs in every place imaginable. His and Grandma’s house always had the distinctive smell, and even when he moved in with my uncle, he’d try to stash them around – much to my aunt’s annoyance, of course.)
- The food turned cold before the meal prayer was finished. (Long-winded was an understatement.)
- Random “Dutch” and “Chinese” phrases pepper the evening’s conversation. (Family joke. Gramps would pretend to speak in either language. Some of us -ahem!- believed him for a long time…)
- The TV is turned up as loud as it can possibly go.
- Heat’s turned up to 85 degrees.
- A big “Heeey!” and a Bear Hug greets you as you walk in the door. (“Well, well, well, Kiddo.”)
- Bird-calling lessons are on the day’s agenda. (Really though, he had a bird-book and everything.)
- Your head spun with heaps of good (though probably unsolicited) advice (like “Don’t spit in the wind” and “Obey your parents”).
Good-bye Gramps.
<3
Grandpa Kibben and my Dad last September.
Gramps was 88 in this photo.
If you’re interested, you can read his obituary online here.
Filed under: journey | 1 Comment
Tags: George Kibben Jr., goodbye, grandfather
Tomorrow: A Brighter Day
There’s an old Out of Eden song that goes
Tomorrow is a better day / Tomorrow, you will see the way / When God is / By your side to stay / Just keep on moving / Don’t you dare give up
So, ignoring the overdone lyrics shoved in there just to make it rhyme, I have to say this song expresses exactly what I think God’s been showing me in my life lately.
It’s strange because you think that when you move somewhere as amazing as Australia your life will be perfect and everything will run smoothly all the time. You have this sort of knowing in the back of your mind that a smooth run for a whole year isn’t exactly possible, but when it’s still only a mental image it is so much less threatening.
So, here I am in a foreign country with belongings spread across three different houses because I don’t have an “official” home. I thought I had something permanent for my whole time here, and it was up until a few weeks ago when I found out I could be bumped around on as little as a whim. This comes merely days after I talked to my friends and family about the pull I’ve been feeling lately to settle somewhere. To have something long-term that I can consider as my place.
I feel like God has just said, “Nope, you’re meant to wander all your days.”
I know this feeling won’t last, and that’s really why the above lyrics mean so much to me. Our feelings are fickle. Mine swing quicker than a major league baseball bat. And the more I walk with God the more I realize how desperately we must fight against our feelings taking control of our lives, especially of our beliefs about God.
Recently I was able to buy myself a new computer – I got to replace the one I’d been given because it had reached the ancient age of 4 years and was slowing beginning to deteriorate in random ways. The first computer had been a gift and had a bit of nostalgia attached to it so I had some trouble replacing it. But as soon as I did, as soon as I opened the box with my brand new, crisp, bright machine, as soon as I turned it on and watched the glorious Mac welcome message, I was overwhelmed with gratefulness and thankfulness to God for His provision and faithfulness. It turned my whole weekend around.
It may seem obnoxious or materialistic to have received so much joy from a computer, but it meant so much more to me than something cool to fiddle with or show off to my friends – it was truly and example of how much God loves me. Of how much He has blessed me with and of how much more He will bless me, even when I don’t really deserve it.
It was a shaft of light in the middle of my raincloud.
Even though I feel unsettled. Even though I don’t have it all worked out, and I’m not sure what’s going to happen in the next week, much less the next few months. Even though I feel like I’m blinded by tears of pain and frustration, I know that God hears me.
And I know that tomorrow will be a brighter day.
Filed under: Australia, ministry | Leave a Comment
Tags: brighter day, God, out of eden, rainbow, raincloud, tomorrow
Preacher-Lady
I did my first Sunday morning preach yesterday – for Mother’s Day.
I didn’t really broadcast that is it was, technically, my first time. I didn’t want the pity, you know? The *pat pat you did such a good job today. I mean, yeah, I did want to be told that I did a good job – I wanted to be told that I did a great job, but just not in that sort of condescending, patronizing way. Ha! Not sure that happened, but I do know that I studied hard and I tried my best, and God took and did what He wanted with it. But in circumstances like these I just pretend I know what I’m doing, and usually no one is much the wiser.
Ps Ennio asked me to do the message “as in the actual preaching” last Sunday as we were in the car on the way to church. Since it was Mother’s Day, they wanted to hear from a woman in the congregation. Still not entirely sure why they chose me. I said simply, “Ok.” And while I was trying to make up my mind whether or not I should add, “I’ll pray about it of course,” Anna said to Ennio: “Look at that! Just ‘Ok!’ How obedient is she! No need to pray about it or anything.” So I just kept my mouth shut.
I asked them if they had anything specific they wanted me to talk about, and the general consensus was something to do with mother’s. Ennio said: “Maybe about women in the Bible.” Anna said: “Just make it a dedication to your mum.” It’s typical of my wonderful pastors and friends to give seemingly conflicting instructions, which if you embrace it can actually be freeing, because, really, you can do what you want.
At church that morning Ps Ennio announced that I would be the “special guest ministry” next week – so there was no getting out of it.
I always seem to do this to myself. I sit in the pew, think about what I would say or do if I was given the chance, feeling confident that I would do great. Then I accept the offer to give a message to a group of people, and as I begin to prepare I think to myself, What in the world have I gotten myself into? I fear that I won’t be preaching on the right thing. That it will bore the people. That it won’t be helpful. That people will think “When is she ever going to finish?!”
In having only a week to prepare, I gained a new appreciation for pastors who preach week after week – sometimes more. How do they do it? It takes so much time, so much study, so much prayer!
The most intimidating part of preaching was standing in front of a congregation of about twenty and watching them get up and move around, walk in and out, nod off, wake back up, nod at you (as if that’s what they were doing when they nodded off), glaze their eyes over. We have the added awkwardness of being on the corner of a fairly busy street in Manly, and also meeting in the oldest church. So then you get visitors peeking their heads into the doorway. Then suddenly thoughts flash through your mind: “What are they thinking of this? Will what I’m saying right now encourage them to stay or leave?” And in the midst of it all you lose your train of thought.
I try to encourage myself that everyone has to start somewhere. And if you don’t start off being at least a little bit terrible, well, where do you have to go from there. I can honestly say I prayed A LOT before giving this message, so it was really in God’s hands anyway – and isn’t that where we want everything we do to be?
Filed under: Australia, ministry | 2 Comments
Tags: first, preacher, time, Wellspring Church
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