Maybe I should always write about relationships...

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife. (Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice)*

So here's a question posed by my inimitable grandfather:

"Why do persons in the bigger cities get married later in life?" Conversely, "Why do people in Middle America get married in their early twenties?"

(As a side note, my dear grandfather is a fan of the early-twenties bracket and both he and Grandma are starting to view me as an anomaly.)

Trevs and I hashed this out, both with different theories...

Trevs' thoughts tend more to the "Larger Dating Pool Hypothesis," in which he argues that people in the larger metropolises can date more people. Because there are more people, there are more social circles. The expanded social circles give you the option of moving from one relationship to another without the awkwardness and social ostracism that so often follows a break-up in more rural America.

For example, here, if I date someone (and I have), there is a certain dating pool of acquaintances that becomes "polluted" when the relationship ends. People consciously, (or unconsciously) take sides. All future relationships are measured against the previous ones, and everyone knows everyone else and talks about everyone else. It may be a sad side-effect, true. Although it's not always negative; it's close to inevitable. And there's no where else to go. The number of single, evangelical, growing, desirable persons are usually confined to a fairly limited group. (There are only a certain number of single, evangelical, growing, desirable persons in every 10,000 of any populace.)

Go to a bigger city- more 10,000s of people, hence more single, evangelical, growing, desirable persons. More people to date, so you date longer before running out of options. This is Trevor's hypothesis.

My theory is completely different: As a general rule (GENERAL!) young twenty-somethings in a city moved there because they are extremely career driven. You do what you need to do to climb whatever ladder you're on, and you do it when you have the most energy and drive. Family can wait. It is socially acceptable to focus on your career, so they do. In middle-America, it's more puzzling when you're crazily-career driven. Many of our social outlets revolve around family, not career. So, you don't get married until later because that's completely acceptable and expected because you're "establishing" yourself.



I think I need to move to a city. I'm tired of my growing anomaly-ness.




*I love how Jane Austen will never cease to be relevant...

In honor of the fun I'm NOT going to have*

Snow! Finally!

However, I'm a grown-up now, and so it's off to work I go!

Let the glee pictured below infuse my cold, boring cubicle...











*please do not mistake this post for a lack of appreciation for my wonderfully flexible, bill-paying job.

Day-After Happenings

It's the day after Christmas, and part of me loves this day more than Christmas (although the other part of me argues that one can never top the sparkle and cozy delight of any Christmas morning). The family is "puttering" about... there's really no other word for it.

My father is planning all of 2010 on a spread sheet, while sipping Columbian coffee. This morning we all discovered that he plans his romantic gestures month by month. We hooted and hollered and told mom.

She already knew.

Bops has been pushing her new stroller and baby doll (a boy named "Madelyn") around all morning. There's nothing like waking up to the sound of plastic wheels on ceramic tile...

The boys spent a good hour watching pointless boy humor on YouTube. If some male wants to enlighten me as to the fascination this particular activity holds, please feel free to do so.

My mom looked at 487 pictures on my facebook profile. I sat next to her and taught her how to facebook stalk. I might regret this at some point in time in the future.

And Erika... well, I haven't seen her yet today. My guess is that her frowsy head is buried deep beneath her comforter, as she continues to blissfully snooze.

Christmas vacation is delightful.

"I need to get dressed..."

We were all so excited about Christmas with Boppy this year. She's four, and just old enough to experience the joy of opening presents (giving presents was a little more tricky... She still doesn't get that...)

Alex bought her this amazing baby doll. It's a little boy whose lips are formed into a grumpy pucker, and whose outfit is completed by a little stuffed lion and a hat with ears.

She squealed with delight when she opened him, but as soon as he was out of his package, she ran from him, hiding behind everything in attempts to avoid holding her new baby.

Over and over she kept saying, "I need to get dressed. I don't want the baby. I need to get dressed."

I got her a stroller. We opened it next in an attempt to alleviate her odd fear of the baby. (Maybe if she wouldn't hold him, she'd push him around.)

Once again she squealed in glee, and then ran. "I need to get dressed. I don't want it. No. I need to get dressed."

We were all puzzled.

However, after she was dressed, she began to cuddle the baby and take him for walks around and around and around our circular floor-plan.

Apparently she thought she couldn't be a good mom until she was properly attired.

I wonder if she'll be the same way when she has real children...

Maybe I'm just tired...

Why am I discouraged?
Why is my heart so sad?
I will put my hope in God!
I will praise him again—
my Savior and my God!

Psalm 43:5

Baptists Psychics (in regards to me, alone under the mistletoe)

Merry Christmas, deck the halls, thank you for the fudge, yada-yada-yada.

I have an irascible query.

(Well, not really, but I'm trying to get out of the habit of hemorraghing anger onto the pages of my blog. So, instead, I was in a funk last night, I'm over it tonight, but I still think it needs to be said. Tonight I'm saying it with firm, yet gracious patience. Last night I would have said it with vehement rhetoric. So instead...)

I just have a inquisitive question.

Why, in the name of all that is good and holy, do people pat me on the arm and tell me:

"Don't worry, there is wonderful guy out there for you..."

First, I'm not worried. Please don't assume I'm worried.

And second... how on EARTH do they know that?!? Seriously, is there some weird, Baptist, psychic ability that allows people to see that somewhere, out there in the distant (or not so distant) future, there is a "wonderful guy" for lil' ol' me? Because if they can tell me that, with all honest sincerity, then I need to ask them some tough questions... like:

"So, am I really going to finish grad school?"
"What are the side-effects going to be of my purchasing those insanely high heels?"
"Should I go vegan?"

Because if they can see, with that degree of clarity into the future-- baby, we've got to use that gift! Why does anyone think that it would be a good idea to assure me that there is, in fact, someone waiting for me in my future?

There might not be.

And whenever I respond with, "Aww, thank you, but if there isn't- isn't God still good?" I get expressions of taken-aback confusion.

Yes, I would love a time in the future when I read the Christmas story to wondering little faces, before snuggling with my honey in front of a fire after (finally!) decorating the tree. I would love to instigate new traditions and carry out old ones. And the cute, artsy side of me, that only peaks out when I'm well-rested and over-achieving, imagines all sorts of new family goodies and Christmas cards.

But that may never be me. And if that's the case, then that is the way in which I can bring God the most glory! And I know it is there because it also brings me the most good. Not good in the way of eating-spinach-good, but rather in the way of sheer-unadulterated-joy-good.

So, no, I won't worry, wonderful people-who-care-about-me-and-sincerely-believe-they-are saying-something-encouraging. Because even if your psychic powers fail, and there really, truly isn't a "wonderful man out there" for me, I think life is still going to be pretty stinkin' awesome.

Merry Christmas Eve of the Christmas Eve's Eve!

I know exactly how you feel...

Merry Christmas to you too!

So, as one more hoop to jump through in Purdue's hoop-filled graduate speech pathology program, this winter break we have to complete "comps."

"Comps" are "comprehensive exams" which have to be passed in order to graduate. (By "exams" I mean multiple 5-10 page long answers to a clinical questions posed by an expert in that field.) Should you fail to pass, there are all sorts of horrible terms that are hinted at, like "remediation." And you'll wind up doing even more work, hoping to prove to the professor that you actually know your stuff.

Now, we all groan over "comps," and apparently they're not that much fun for the faculty either.

Yesterday, in the grad room, one of the professors divulged that he tries to make his question as hard as possible so that no one will pick it and he won't have to grade any tediously boring papers. It just so happens, he's not the only one. Apparently many of the faculty compete to see who can submit the hardest question so that the students will pick someone else's question. (We are required to answer 5 questions total.)

So, in the end, what we as students wind up with is a massive exam packet, full of tedious, long, intense questions, all of which require research paper level work to answer...

THAT'S what I get to do over Christmas break.

Delightful.

Thank you, Purdue.

At the close of Wednesday, I will be officially done with my last finals week. EVER. The end. I am exhilarated, thrilled, and terrified.

For six years I have been going to classes, trudging through paperwork, finding the right things to add to my resume, and making sure that my GPA is sparkling-clean and admirable. The problem is, that although I have my long-term goals meticulously outlined, and although I have everything that I could possibly need at this point in time in order to accomplish them, I've started to realize that my "preparation time" is coming to a close.

College has been phenomenal. And though, at times, I may gripe about my limited window of experience since I'm attending an institution so near my family and high school memories, I have absolutely loved my undergrad and graduate experience at Purdue University. I'm happy here. I'm safe. I'm comfortable. I know exactly what is expected and what I need to do in order to fulfill the role that I've been filling in Lafayette, IN.

But now it's time to grow up.

Technically, I'm already "grown-up." I pay my own bills. I have a house. I remember to change my oil, and I plan my own weekend activities. However, I'm still operating in the comfortable sphere that I've known for 12+ years here in Lafayette, IN. It's still safe. My parents are still my safety net. My church is still wonderful. My siblings are near-by, whenever I want to have a casual movie night.

But now it's time to grow up.

I'm looking for jobs, thinking of selling my house, and leaving my comfortable family sphere and homey Indiana setting.

For almost a year, I've been convinced that staying in Lafayette, while wonderfully comfortable, would not encourage me to consistently be growing and reaching new heights. I get lazy when I'm comfortable.

So. I'm moving.

I'm not really sure where.

I'm not sure what I'll be doing.

I'm scared out of my mind.

But I know that this is right. That this is good.

And that it's time.

Did you know apartments in Manhattan are three times the cost of my mortgage?

The love of God is greater far, Than tongue or pen can ever tell

But he had Jesus flogged, and handed him over to be crucified. (Matthew 27:26)


Today, I closed my eyes in church, and, per the urging of the pastor, imagined what it would be like to be blindfolded and scourged. The terror of not knowing when or where the next blow would fall had never been evident to me. The mental readying which so often precedes a blow or pain was denied to our Lord, as the custom in those days was to blind-fold the victim so that the terror and pain would be confounded by a lack of knowledge regarding the next blow.

And He's God.

So He knew this would happen. He knew that this pain was coming throughout his entire ministry.

And he still "had compassion on them."

My God's love is astounding.

The love of God is greater far
Than tongue or pen can ever tell;
It goes beyond the highest star,
And reaches to the lowest hell;
The guilty pair, bowed down with care,
God gave His Son to win;
His erring child He reconciled,
And pardoned from his sin.

O love of God, how rich and pure!
How measureless and strong!
It shall forevermore endure
The saints’ and angels’ song.

Could we with ink the ocean fill,
And were the skies of parchment made,
Were every stalk on earth a quill,
And every man a scribe by trade,
To write the love of God above,
Would drain the ocean dry.
Nor could the scroll contain the whole,
Though stretched from sky to sky.
("The Love of God," Lehman & Mays)

More from Matthew... a Tireless Lord

Good morning, all! I am trudging glibly through the book of Matthew. Very soon I will begin my perusal of Mark. I will miss Matthew. His obsession with numbers and detailed (if unexplained) accuracy is quite wonderful.

Rather than having one thing stand out as I read, this time I was more impressed by a global character of Christ seen from chapter to chapter and story to story.

When you read the book of Matthew in massive chunks, with complete disregard to chapter/paragraph separations, the busyness of Christ's ministry becomes incredibly obvious. From one thing, to another, to another, and he's constantly being required to stop to serve others, to perform miracles he's performed before, and he's ceaselessly explaining things to his rather slow disciples.

I am, I confess, quite worried about the holiday season. As things accelerate in my school and family requirements, the pressure and constant work/interaction with others that is required can be quite daunting. What am I going to do when I have to do the same thing over and over? How will I react if required to give up what I prefer over and over? How am I going to show Christ-like behavior in the midst of the panic, bustle, and selfishness which any break from routine incites?

But how foolish to worry! Everything I need in regards to self-less service has been outlined for me. And, as Hebrews says, "For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet was without sin." Christ knows the panic, the busyness, the constant service that is required to be effective. And I know what I need to do (thanks to Hebrews) in order to serve as he did: "Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need."

I don't have to do it in and of myself.

Yay!

Bring on my Christmas craziness!

I serve and ever-serving Lord.

No Words, Only Songs... for our Emmanuel

Every Thursday this semester, I've had a clinical placement at the Indiana Veterans' Home (IVH). To say I was thrilled at this clinic placement would be a gross over-statement. I had observed at IVH prior to my experience of working there, and my reaction to this assignment was less than ideal. I was, in short, dreading it.

However, after a couple scary first few weeks, I gradually began to tolerate it, and then (lo' and behold!) to enjoy it.

The whole facility is full of grumpy old men (and a couple of equally grumpy ladies), who are starved for attention and confused about where they are and what's going on. Several weeks ago we added a new client. I'm going to call him "Murphy."

"Murphy" is younger than most of the residents at IVH. He's in his 50s and suffered a debilitating stroke that left him almost completely unable to walk, talk, or take care of himself. He had just gotten married, and his family was not expecting this tragedy (what family ever is?). Instead of complete sentences, "Murphy" is only able to say the word "differ" (with excellent inflection and charisma), in addition to some occasional phrases that we speech therapists call "memorized wholes." (For example, he can sing all of "Happy Birthday.")

Today, due to an evaluation on another resident, I was late to "Murphy's" therapy session and found the other clinician already done with most of the activities. When I walked into the room, "Murphy's" face lit up and he animatedly greeted me. (I felt like a million bucks). Because singing had gone so well in the past, we decided to try some Christmas carols.

Apparently I was the only clinician who couldn't claim to be tone-deaf. So, all on my own, I began singing, hoping that "Murphy" would join in and remember some of the words to these old favorites.

And he did.

For ten minutes, the only sound in his room was both of us singing. Using his communication device, he requested "Joy to the World," "Away in the Manger," "We wish you a Merry Christmas," etc.

As we finished with "Silent Night," "Murphy" teared up. Unable to say all the words, he followed my pitch, only producing words at the end of the phrases. These were the only ones he was able to sing.

As you sing with your family this holiday, be it around the Christmas tree, or in a candlelight Christmas Eve service, really, truly sing. God, the one who became man, who released his immeasurable power, who became a helpless, ignored baby, is the one we are celebrating this Christmas. And although many others have forgotten people such as the residents at IVH, God never has.

How great is our Emmanuel.

Matthew 9-12: How much do you care? **Oldie, but a Keith-Green goodie**

Jesus went through all the towns and villages, teaching in their synagogues, preaching the good news of the kingdom and healing every disease and sickness. When he saw the crowds, he had compassion on them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd. Then he said to his disciples, "The harvest is plentiful but the workers are few. Ask the Lord of the harvest, therefore, to send out workers into his harvest field."...Go rather to the lost sheep of Israel. As you go, preach this message: 'The kingdom of heaven is near.' ... "And if anyone gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones because he is my disciple, I tell you the truth, he will certainly not lose his reward."

Matthew 5-8: The Law and Motives

Jesus, in the "Beatitudes," (I'm speaking particularly of 6:1-18) plays flawlessly a game that many of us fumble. There seem to be two general ditches into which people glibly drive their works following salvation.

The first is the ditch in which everything is done to the letter of the law. You* will never miss a Sunday. You will never miss a Wednesday night. You serve in every outreach activity, and you minister in every ministry. You are a spiritual Energizer bunny. However, underneath all the doing-doing-doing, your heart may be very different. Jesus talks about the heart in startling ways in these passages: you're angry = you've murdered, you lust = you've committed adultery. Or perhaps you merely follow the age-old, talked-to-death, still incredibly relevant motive of doing your works for men, rather than God: "Be careful not to do your 'acts of righteousness' before men, to be seen by them. If you do, you will have no reward from your Father in heaven." (6:1) Regardless, acts which should have been spiritual disciplines, such as the fasting, praying, and giving mentioned in chapter 6, become your pill you pop when you want approbation from men.

The other ditch is never stated blatantly (at least not in my cursory run-through of these chapters), and that is this: fear or worry that you are going to start doing these works for men, or that in doing these works you will get angry and consequently sin, are never options to STOP doing what the Law requires. I've heard many times (and partly because I move largely with college students, and we're remarkably good at excuses), "Well, I'm just not going to work on my prayer life, because then I'd be doing it for other people and not for God." What!?! No where in these chapters does Jesus say, "If you pray before people and you can only do it for your glory, then stop praying. Stop giving. Stop fasting."

Today I was struck by the way in which Jesus upheld the Old Testament Law: "Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them. I tell you the truth, until heaven and earth disappear, not the smallest letter, not the least stroke of a pen, will by any means disappear from the Law until everything is accomplished. Anyone who breaks one of the least of these commandments and teaches others to do the same will be called least in the kingdom of heaven, but whoever practices and teaches these commands will be called great in the kingdom of heaven."

While he at the same time took that law and expanded it with his phrase, "But I tell you" as he addressed ideas on murder, giving, adultery, revenge, etc. throughout this entire passage. He truly is the phenomenally wise God.

*You in these posts is not referring to you specifically, dear reader. I just find it a more friendly pronoun than the academically accepted universal pronoun of "one." I could all the more easily say, "I" for these are the truths that are convicting me.