A Few Thoughts

So many of my posts seem to be about something. There is a point I am making, or a problem to be solved, or it's about confusion, sorrow, jealousy, shame, guilt... some underlying purpose to the writing.

There isn’t any point today... Just jotting down a few thoughts.

I agreed to do another picture during a church service. I’ve done acrylics... they take too long. The colors are harder to control in the changing lighting, and the concentration needed is greater. I’m going with Sharpies in a myriad of colors.

It is difficult to concentrate on a stage.

The whole idea is a little strange I guess. During important services at church, when there are a lot of folks in attendance, we pull out all the stops (pun intended).


I think it a little strange because I’m unsure how I should feel about it.

I suppose people like watching me produce a picture during a service... it illustrates the message.


I suppose I would find it interesting to watch some guy do a picture.


The most difficult thing is to mentally drop all my surroundings... just focus enough on prayer, concentrate on what I have to say to God, and pray it.

I start by singing along with the worship team. I’m not too worried about others when I worship... and so it is a relief to sing and let my prayers flow into a picture.

But when the singing stops... There will be people stepping up to say things, make announcements... and the sermon. I need to shut all of that out... take the prayers of worship, and rather than letting them dial down, I need to dial it up... pray earnestly, joyfully... quickly let the surroundings drop completely away. Just me, God, my prayers, and the colors flowing through pens into some shape echoing my heart.

When distraction breaks through, I need to quickly marshal my thoughts.

I will probably use the iPod. Bach or worship songs or Christmas music. Perhaps a mix for the occasion.

Then there is the image itself.

I wrote the other day about the two advents. The advent for the birth of Jesus, and the advent of the Return of the Christ. That's this year's Christmas image... the advents.

The Nativity and the Second Coming.

God in mortal form. God in as much glory and power and beauty and love and the fullness of existence inclusive of dimensional we cannot sense.

Comfort and familiarity, and terrible beauty.

An impossible image.

I suppose it doesn’t matter what I do.

Worship every Sunday is my favorite twenty minutes of the week. This will be an opportunity to let worship flow through me for over an hour.

That will be cool.

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Tomorrow, Saturday, I am opening the computer lab from 8:00 a.m. to 12:00 for my robitics team. It’s a new, young team. The kids I have had over the last few years all moved on to high school. These kids are almost all sixth graders (one 7th).

They aren’t ready for the tournament a week from tomorrow, though they think they are.

They will be next year.

I’m going to run an after school robotics club all year with these kids. They will be a good team in a year. I’ll recruit a couple of 6th graders next year to keep new kids rolling in... I hope to build up a good team.

These are good kids. One of them is very bright.

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I decided to go to the staff Christmas party. A few years ago, well, seven years ago, my boss made a number of jokes at my expense. A few of my colleagues were drawn in on the fun... ingratiating themselves with the new boss (they no longer work in the same building as I).

I haven’t gone to another staff get together since.

I told myself that in my current circumstances I wouldn’t be much fun, a wet blanket.

I told myself I'm not really wanted.

I told myself that since it’s the anniversary of Willy’s death I should’t go.

Weak arguments. Excuses.

Yesterday evening I suddenly became a little blue. It washed over me about 5:00 p.m. and lasted until I fell asleep. It echoed in my heart this morning.

I had talked with Brenda earlier (she’s taking the boys somewhere tomorrow). When she was here the other day I was taciturn. When I spoke to her I told her I had been pissed.

That’s how it has been lately. I feel prayerful and sad. I feel angry and apathetic. I feel paternal and pleased at being single. These aren’t wild mood swings. They are the slower swings of a large pendulum.

I resisted the impulse to take a Xanax or two.

I need to inject myself into the world. I need to go to that Christmas dinner.

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I want to contact my dad about the trip to Thailand this summer. I am excited about the idea, think of it often, but I’ve been busy. House cleaning, laundry, meals, work... I need to pencil in some time for pleasant anticipation.

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Still sleeping less than six hours. I wonder if I have settled into a new type of sleep cycle.

I’ve put a little weight back on. That is a good sign, emotionally... I need to work on healthy eating now... Emotional weight loss has stopped. Now I can begin to think about good eating habits.

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I’ve been thinking about that book quite a bit. I’m not sure why anyone would care to read it, but that doesn't matter. I want to write it because I want to understand myself.

That year, 1961... so many events happened which shaped my life. And, in looking at those unlikely series of events, I realize not only a lot of odd things happened in my life, but there were patterns in them. In certain years much happened. A confluence.

Other years... the quirks of circumstances and the quirks of my nature, prepared for the unusual years. 1961. 1976. 1992. 2008.

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I’ve been thinking about my weaknesses.

That I could be so wrong about Brenda does not speak well of me. Yes, I loved her. I did not see her with open eyes. And not just the flaws of her character. I also missed her wants and needs. I missed connecting to her in ways that not only would have helped her, helped our marriage, but what a husband should be, should do, what God wants of us. Of me.

I must be pretty self centered.

Human nature... but... I can do better.

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Teaching went really well this week.

Once in a while lessons come together, really come together, and kids walk away with lit light bulbs floating over their heads. It is a good feeling when things click.

That happened quite a bit this week.

It's another sign I am getting my feet under me, despite the evidence of the emotional pendulum.

It’s 9:30. I think I’ll go to bed.