Today, in Genesis, was Noah and flood story.   There was something that I don’t think I’d ever thought about it before (or was reading a different translation).  God tells Noah to build the ark, gather animals, get his family in the boat, and then God closes the door.  It really stuck out to me that while Noah was commanded to work hard to prepare for what God was going to do but ultimately God protected Noah through the ordeal.  Noah had to be obedient in building the ark so that God could close the door to protect Noah, his family, and the animals.  It is another story to reinforce the notion of the push and pull of our relationship with God.  It is all well and fine to say that God is sovereign and the actor but we too have to follow the instructions He gives us.  Without question God could act without us and sometimes in spite of us but as a Christian or in Noah’s case, a man or woman of God, he allows us to be part of His plan.  

Another thing that stuck out to me today was the enormous responsibility that Noah is given.  His obedience is not only a matter of his safety and well-being but that of his family and the animals.  It is easy in a culture such as we live in, in America, that our actions only affect us when in reality, everything we choose, obedient or not, affects numerous others around us.  Even the actions that do not seem to affect others.  As one of my favorite song lyrics says, “We’re only as separate as your little fingers.”  We all have such a great responsibility to others.  It is one way that the immensity of sin becomes so apparent.  The times at which I have been tempted by faiths other than my own, I am always drawn back by the simple and enormous weight of sin and the necessity of grace which I found only in Christ.  So….it’s a good day thus far…he he!

I was reading Three Cups of Tea by David Oliver Relin and Greg Mortenson, last week.  Three Cups of Tea is the true story of how Greg Mortenson began his non-profit, Cental Asian Institute, by promising to build a school for a small villiage in Pakistan after a failed attempt to summit K2. Wonderful book! 

Anyway, so I’m reading a book about Pakistan during some downtime, when the phone rings.  The man on the other end asked, in what I then thought was an Indian accent, if an Elizabeth was there.  This is not too strange since people call asking for Elizabeth all the time.  When I informed him that she wasn’t there, he asked if he could ask me a few questions.  So I answered a line of questions like “How often do you brush your teeth?” and “If you have a severe toothache, would you seek dental care?” 

Then, the last four questions went as follows, “How old are you?”

“22.” 

“What is your highest level of education….high school?”

“I have a bachelor’s degree.”

“Oooh. Okay. How many people are in your household?”

“One. Just me” Slight chuckle from both parties.

“How much money do you make in a month?”  I answered.

“Okay well, thank you so much for answering my questions”

“Wait so can I ask you a question?”

“Sure…”

“Where are you calling from?”

“Pakistan”  He then went on immediately to tell me that it saves the money, which I can only assume is a reaction to Americans getting defensive and angry…so I respond with….

“What time is it?”

“3 after midnight.”

“Oh my goodness.  When do you sleep?”

After we both chuckle a little bit, he asks, “How long do you plan on being single?”

“Until it changes,” I chuckled.  After hearing what I thought sounded like “until God wills it,” I replied back with, “yeah, until God wills it.”  So then he proceeded to explain to me that because he was Muslim they say it in Arabic and tried to teach me how to pronouce it. 

Anyway, it totally made my week, not to mention the fact that it was a great example of the shrinking nature of the world with globalization.  Globalization more often than not created a lot of conflict between people, which is why I was glad to have such an experience since I do hope that as time progresses it improves. 

The real exciting and scary reality is that we have a choice.  We can attempt to live and thrive with the other people in our world.  We can try to speak with them and interact with them.  We can attempt to help them and learn to be helped by them.  However, we can also choose to dip into our vast pool of fear (and do not be fooled into thinking that you have conquered your fears).  With these fears we can choose to indulge them and escape into our own worlds and when confronted with the worlds of others we can fight their existence by failing to listen and continuing to compete.  We choose.  And if we choose to engage others they cease to be others and become part of the us, the we, our friends, and our family. 

Okay so I know that was a bit of a hippy rant but….deal with it.

While I sit here I think about all sorts of things. While my friend Margaret would probably think that I sit and think about the opposite sex most of the day but this is simply not true.  They seem actually quite boring lately. The ones that seem appeal even just a little, are so slow going or not going that, well, who cares, really?  This is perhaps the saddest thing about being a formally very sexual person who has now lost interest in practically all them men she knows…I’m stil sexually attracted to a group of people whom I’m not currently finding pleasure being around.  This is in fact quite a strange feeling.  While most people would say that it should not be as confusing or weird since hook-up culture is fairly normal, Christian morality forbids me from engaging in sexual activity with anyone with whom I’m not in a marital committed relationship with, sooooo…hook-ups….not a go.  Darn morals!

The problem with this imaginary wandering, like almost all others, is contentment.  I actually really like living in fantastically old house that no one could afford to keep for themselves.  Chopped into sections while retaining the spiral staircase which creaks not with every few steps but every single step.  The floors slant making it necessary to keep a book under my desk to keep it from sliding across the room and its own will instead of mine.  The house began its life over a hundred years ago but the neighborhood is now a hodgepodge of buildings.   Some of the buildings, I’m sure, are old, dear friends that also have changed and grown into quirky apartments.  However, some of the buildings are new friends and maybe not so dear.  Even the old rusted out van on the next lot over is quite a new resident compared it this old house.

So it is here that I start my new life.  I say new, not because I am just born because then I obviously could not be writing this.  But surely some shifts in life create such a new sort of life that it seems at some moments to be entirely and unforgivably fresh.

Though I cannot see it

I dare not lean and touch the pool

Though I hear others enjoy its wonders

They sip its pure content

Their slurps fill my ears

My whole body longs to join in

The water flows out onto the ground

Providing life all around it

I can smell the flowers it sustains

It is real to me this pool

The effects that produces surrounds me

I hear it

I smell it

But I cannot muster a touch

To bring to my lips a taste

For it to become part of me

Not even to open myself to see

So I stand still and thirsty.

There have been times when a passerby splashed

Not realizing I was so close

The water was flung on my sun-scorched body

It caressingly dripped down my skin

Soon the sun had done its work

The water evaporated

Quickening the burn.