2009: In Which a Very Tired Person attempts to procrastinate less often.

So, about the vaguely positive thoughts about blogging more frequently in 2008?

Um, yeah. Didn't happen. I could blame it on all sorts of convenient items - the chaplain internship, the stirrings of grad school senioritis, much busy-ness on the work front, rediscovering long-lost friends via facebook, a building project at home - but, really, intertia is more like it. In my snippets of free time, curling up with a cat and a cup of tea was much more appealing. For heaven's sake, I hardly even cooked in '08. That being a travesty - all those lonely cooking vessels. The fresh herbs in the garden. The unused garlic!

I rang out the old year by making homemade lasagna, and thick, dense brownies studded with chocolate chips, and plenty of chamomile tea. So here I am, first day of the new year, sated with all manner of things yummy, contemplating my goals. Because that seems the Thing to Do. And thus we have A List. Which may not be accomplished, but it certainly feels good to set the goals.

• fresh fruit & veggies every day
• figure out a reasonable exercise schedule and stick to it 75% of the time
  
• finish the construction project, already! (before gardening season arrives)
• blog at least once a week and journal at least 3x/week
  
• find my desk at least once each month and revel in the accomplishment

May we all take the time in the new year to listen for the world not as it is, but as it may be.

Not only is another world possible, she is on her way. On a quiet day, I can hear her breathing.
- Arundhati Roy

An Advent Litany

One of the great joys of finishing the semester is that I am no longer chapters and chapters behind in my reading. Which means that I have time for "fun" reading (which is more often than not, theological - but on my own timeline!) and a chance to devote more time to things around the house. I never thought I'd see the day when I was glad to have time for housework!

In any event, it also gave me time to revisit some bits of writing that had been sitting around collecting dust. Dual purpose, really - the one I've just been working on will serve as devotions for my CPE group work this week. Hurray for meeting multiple needs with one project! In the spirit of Advent, the season of waiting, I offer the following poem/litany, inspired by women of scripture. Feel free to use, with attribution, for non-commercial purposes. Blessings to you, and safe travels -

"...let every girl live" (Exodus 1:22b)

(Hannah)
Mouthing soundless prayer
we weep for unborn children of love
laughing against the passing years
we wait

(Sarah and Hagar)
Making bitter choices
unknown to those secure in body and heart
lamenting mother-child cast out to desert death
we wait

(Shiphrah and Puah)
With power-defying stealth and wit
trying to save them all
casting hope with a river-drifting babe
we wait

(Deborah)
Governing the people
witness to thoughtless disobedience
longing for growth and wisdom
we wait

(Ruth and Naomi)
Choosing relations among those
who share no ancestral blood
making heart-kin for survival
we wait

(Mary and Elizabeth)
Loving the impossible
strength growing within us
daring to hope in the promise
we wait

(The Unnamed)
Beside these women
our spirits speak endlessly
striving with the One who gave birth
and we wait

snippets from nowhere

Internship at First Church Somewhere-in-the-Midwest continues to go well. I'm sad to say that my last day there is May 18, although I'm currently angling for more preaching gigs when that's done. I have become addicted to preaching, as it turns out.

As I was procrastinating my way around another writing assignment, I found a poem nudging its way out of my brain. I share the current draft of it here, and welcome your responses -

I used to walk towards Galilee
with my father on a weekend day

The sand smooth as glass –
skimcoat water
reflecting bluest sky
a scallop shell splitting
the backflow!

ready for the growing pile in my bucket
stormcloud grey round stone
bumping on purple childhood wampum
sharpedge broken mussel and
a discarded (?) hermit crab hotel

there in sparkle wave-roar
seagulls clamoring to join the party

and joyful space of being me

there, too is God.