I realize that usually I write about random fun events, ideas, etc. on this blog, but I figured I would stray from the norm and use this post to reflect on the season of Lent, which begins tomorrow. When I think about Lent, the first word that pops into my head is sacrifice. Lent is about giving up something, right? It's about denying yourself something that you usually find pleasure in, or denying yourself comfort by doing something that is usually difficult. That's what I thought until I read Isaiah 1:11-17 and I was like, "say what"?
In these verses, God's is basically just hating on worthless sacrifice and festivals and prayer services ("the multitude of your sacrifices--what are they to me?"), which is weird because those all seem like pretty good things. But then it says "learn to do right; seek justice / defend the oppressed / take up the cause of the fatherless; / plead the case of the widow". Now this makes more sense to me because that should be the underlying reason to all of our actions...seeking justice. Here's what I think about Lent, take it or leave it. God doesn't care about your daily chocolate intake or the amount of time you spend on Facebook. What God does care about is the amount of time you spend loving others and yourself, building relationships, forgiving enemies, caring about the earth, and bettering the world around you. God doesn't care about the sacrifice itself, but rather what chain reaction the sacrifice catalyzes.
If giving up Facebook for 40 days is what it will take for you to become more appreciative of the people and places in your life, and gain a greater desire to participate more fully in your relationships, then that is a good sacrifice. On the other hand, if giving up Facebook for 40 days will simply give you more time to spend on Twitter, by all means do not relinquish your password to your roommate. See, I believe that if we, as human beings, were perfect, sacrifice would not be necessary. After all, the ultimate sacrifice of Jesus would not have been necessary had humans been perfect.
Therefore, the point of Lent is not to torture yourself by eliminating that daily piece of chocolate from your diet only to go on a chocolate binge on Easter morning. The point is to spend 40 days in acute awareness of how you can better seek justice in your life and the lives of every creature with whom you share this earth. This is a goal that we can all share, whether you are beginning a Lenten sacrifice tomorrow or not. No matter the way in which you choose to move towards this goal of true justice, never turn back.
After all, "what does the Lord require of you / to act justly and to love mercy / and to walk humbly with your God." (Shout-out to my Micahs!)
Happy Lent!
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
Thursday, February 7, 2013
Las Compañeras Peligrosas Take to the Streets...Again
You may have heard me mention my roommate Emily Tuttle in the past. We have been friends since freshmen year of college and, needless to say, have shared many adventures during this time. However, perhaps our biggest and most exciting adventure took place in Rome, Italy last semester when we faced the very real possibility of homelessness for the first time. Let me take you back to February 24th, 2012:
Emily and I had just arrived in Rome around 8:00pm. Given that we had recently developed an obsession with the Mona Lisa after seeing her at the Lourve in Paris, we had booked two beds at the Mona Lisa Hostel in Rome for the weekend. Anyway, we were in a little bit of a hurry to get to our hostel because we were planning on meeting my friend there at 9:00pm (she was studying in Rome for the semester). So, we started walking from the train station, following the map we had printed out with ease. We found the narrow backstreet on which our hostel supposedly sat, and...it was no where to be found. We walked up and down the entire street again. No Mona. At this point we began frantically walking and yelling perhaps our favorite phrase that does not originate from The Princess Diaries: "WHERE YOU BE HIDIN' MONA?!" Mona did not respond. We wandered back to a main street to see if someone could help us (of course, the only italian words I know are musical terms, and I was pretty sure the word "arpeggio" wouldn't help us in this situation). Then we saw some taxis and thought that perhaps they had GPS and could direct us if we showed a driver the address. This seemed like a brilliant enough idea until a taxi driver told us that the Mona Lisa Hostel was Florence rather than Rome. That was a low point. Baffled, we decided to journey back to the street on which the hostel supposedly was one last time before accepting the fact that we might very well be homeless in a foreign country where we don't speak the language and have no cell phones. But, just like she always does, Mona pulled through! There she was hiding in an apartment building with absolutely no indication of her existence on the outside of the building at all. So, we went in, put our stuff down, miraculously found my friend, and were able to enjoy the streets of Rome knowing that we would not be sleeping on them that night.
Fast forward.
Yesterday, Emily and I were faced with the prospect of having no place to live yet again. To make a very long story very short, I have recently decided that Housing and Residence Life is even more useless than Disabilities Services (that's a story for another time, but trust me, I didn't think anything could be worse). Luckily, this time around we are in a city where the majority of people speak English, we have cell phones, and the streets around us are not infested with cats. The only downside? Less gelato and wine to live on if we do have to take to the streets.
Anyway, our situation worked out, and we won't be homeless next year, but my point is this: what would life be without the occasional adventure that has a very real possibility of ending terribly? An adventure during which you are not in control; an instance in which you have to completely surrender to hope and blind faith. That night in Rome was perhaps one of the most stressful nights of my life. Emily and I were both on edge, and neither one of us really had any solution to our problem. But, it was also a beautiful night, we were in Rome for the first time, and we knew that whatever happened would make for a good story one day.
I think it has.
Emily and I had just arrived in Rome around 8:00pm. Given that we had recently developed an obsession with the Mona Lisa after seeing her at the Lourve in Paris, we had booked two beds at the Mona Lisa Hostel in Rome for the weekend. Anyway, we were in a little bit of a hurry to get to our hostel because we were planning on meeting my friend there at 9:00pm (she was studying in Rome for the semester). So, we started walking from the train station, following the map we had printed out with ease. We found the narrow backstreet on which our hostel supposedly sat, and...it was no where to be found. We walked up and down the entire street again. No Mona. At this point we began frantically walking and yelling perhaps our favorite phrase that does not originate from The Princess Diaries: "WHERE YOU BE HIDIN' MONA?!" Mona did not respond. We wandered back to a main street to see if someone could help us (of course, the only italian words I know are musical terms, and I was pretty sure the word "arpeggio" wouldn't help us in this situation). Then we saw some taxis and thought that perhaps they had GPS and could direct us if we showed a driver the address. This seemed like a brilliant enough idea until a taxi driver told us that the Mona Lisa Hostel was Florence rather than Rome. That was a low point. Baffled, we decided to journey back to the street on which the hostel supposedly was one last time before accepting the fact that we might very well be homeless in a foreign country where we don't speak the language and have no cell phones. But, just like she always does, Mona pulled through! There she was hiding in an apartment building with absolutely no indication of her existence on the outside of the building at all. So, we went in, put our stuff down, miraculously found my friend, and were able to enjoy the streets of Rome knowing that we would not be sleeping on them that night.
Fast forward.
Yesterday, Emily and I were faced with the prospect of having no place to live yet again. To make a very long story very short, I have recently decided that Housing and Residence Life is even more useless than Disabilities Services (that's a story for another time, but trust me, I didn't think anything could be worse). Luckily, this time around we are in a city where the majority of people speak English, we have cell phones, and the streets around us are not infested with cats. The only downside? Less gelato and wine to live on if we do have to take to the streets.
Anyway, our situation worked out, and we won't be homeless next year, but my point is this: what would life be without the occasional adventure that has a very real possibility of ending terribly? An adventure during which you are not in control; an instance in which you have to completely surrender to hope and blind faith. That night in Rome was perhaps one of the most stressful nights of my life. Emily and I were both on edge, and neither one of us really had any solution to our problem. But, it was also a beautiful night, we were in Rome for the first time, and we knew that whatever happened would make for a good story one day.
I think it has.
Saturday, February 2, 2013
Emily, Emily, Watch My Head Spin
Sometimes I get made fun of because I don't know very much about the lives of celebrities. In fact, there are many movie stars who I wouldn't recognize if I passed them on the street. However, there are three actresses who are exceptions to this rule, and they all happen to star in what is possibly my second favorite movie, The Devil Wears Prada. Yes, these leading ladies are Anne Hathaway, Emily Blunt and Meryl Streep.
The Devil Wears Prada is perhaps the foundation of my love of tucked in shirts. This passed summer it was a rare sight to see me walking around camp with the hem of my shirt hanging loose. There were even many weeks during which I could be found not only with my shirt tucked in, but also hanging out with a group of campers with their shirts tucked in as well. This was usually the result of a camper, or group of campers, asking me why I always tuck my shirt in followed by this explanation by me:
At camp we wear casual clothes. Due to the nature of our daily activities, sundresses just aren't practical. However, The Devil Wears Prada taught me that, even when you are wearing sweats and a t-shirt, looks matter, at least to some extent. This may seem weird coming from me as I've never been one to enjoy dressing up. I don't think that it matters what brand is printed on the tag of your clothes, or whether you bought your shirt at J Crew or Goodwill. However, tucking your t-shirt into your athletic shorts can simply clean up your look a little bit, and in turn make you feel a little more confident and put together.
Also, a tucked-in shirt makes it easy to carry your chapstick even when you don't have pockets! Simply fold the end of your shirt up, tuck it in so that the lip hangs out at the waist ban, and stick your chapstick in your newly made make-shift pocket! It looks classy, and it's practical!
So, don't forget to class it up and tuck for luck!
Also, if anyone can tell me why this scene didn't make the final cut in The Devil Wears Prada, please let me know.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vn-81xkoCmk
The Devil Wears Prada is perhaps the foundation of my love of tucked in shirts. This passed summer it was a rare sight to see me walking around camp with the hem of my shirt hanging loose. There were even many weeks during which I could be found not only with my shirt tucked in, but also hanging out with a group of campers with their shirts tucked in as well. This was usually the result of a camper, or group of campers, asking me why I always tuck my shirt in followed by this explanation by me:
At camp we wear casual clothes. Due to the nature of our daily activities, sundresses just aren't practical. However, The Devil Wears Prada taught me that, even when you are wearing sweats and a t-shirt, looks matter, at least to some extent. This may seem weird coming from me as I've never been one to enjoy dressing up. I don't think that it matters what brand is printed on the tag of your clothes, or whether you bought your shirt at J Crew or Goodwill. However, tucking your t-shirt into your athletic shorts can simply clean up your look a little bit, and in turn make you feel a little more confident and put together.
Also, a tucked-in shirt makes it easy to carry your chapstick even when you don't have pockets! Simply fold the end of your shirt up, tuck it in so that the lip hangs out at the waist ban, and stick your chapstick in your newly made make-shift pocket! It looks classy, and it's practical!
So, don't forget to class it up and tuck for luck!
Also, if anyone can tell me why this scene didn't make the final cut in The Devil Wears Prada, please let me know.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vn-81xkoCmk
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