The 21st Century has brought lots of change, hasn't it? I mean, who would have thought that 15 years ago, people would be able to carry their phone around with them, search the internet, and do their shopping all on one device that just happen to make phone calls too.
Then Myspace and Facebook came along and connected people and reconnected people. Old high school friends got caught up, people started using the internet as a means to connect romantically (Facebook being a part of that), and all of the sudden nearly a billion people are active Facebook users. We post pictures, status updates, thoughts (sometimes intelligent), and even email is somewhat antiquated when I can just Facebook message folks.
Insane.
And yet, even in an age where people can text, Skype, Facebook, and email, some things just have to be done face to face don't they. Imagine a guy asking his lady to marry him in a text message. Most of die a little inside don't we? Or even worse, imagine a marriage ceremony that was all done online so we could all Skype in to the ceremony along with the bride and groom sitting on their own couches in different states, but still able to get married.
It's wrong isn't it?
I think that's because some things have to be done face to face. Some things are beyond texting, Facebooking, and Skyping. Some things need to be done in the flesh.
And this Christmas is the same right? It's a season to celebrate God coming in the flesh and moving into the neighborhood...because when you've got Good News, you have to share it face to face.
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Friday, October 21, 2011
A Broken Talus and Growth
The pitfall of trying to start blogging and writing is that there is no rhythm to it. This means it's been over a month since my last post. I'll get better.
Last Saturday I was out in Unaweep Canyon, Colorado bouldering with my sister and some friends. It was a perfect day with 5 hours of climbing and hanging out. I had just got new climbing shoes too, so I was super stoked to get out and climb a lot...even more stoked than I normally am.
After about 4 1/2 hours of bouldering, we found this awesome vertical face. It was beautiful. Small holds, really delicate movement, and a potential first ascent. It was glorious.
We worked for an hour on this boulder and on one of the last tries of the day, just as the sun was setting, my foot slipped off this dime-sized ledge, and needless to say, I fell.
It was a good thing my friends had already left because their 18-month old daughter did not need to hear the things I said while they resonated off the canyon walls. My sister Kristi drove us to the ER back in Grand Junction. I left my climbing shoe on to reduce the swelling and by the time we got there, my foot was not only in pain, but was also asleep, which was a new combination of sensations for me.
To save some time, the ER doctor inevitably told me I had a broken talus bone and sent a guy named RJ to set my splint. I thought RJ and I could be friends, but when he started moving my ankle, the idea that we could be friends was over. I'm pretty sure setting my ankle for the splint was more painful than the breaking and spraining of my foot to begin with.
And while I knew this in theory, I was reminded that in order to grow, whether in one's talus bone or in life, there has to be pain. The main character in a story is never the same as he/she was at the beginning of the story because they go through some kind of suffering. And that suffering could be internal as they deal with a breakup or divorce or death of a loved one, or it could be external as Bruce Willis tries to save the city once again from German terrorists.
But whatever it is, we need suffering in this way don't we? We actually need some kind of pain in order to grow as people. I know this is true and it's hard because I'd rather be out climbing or hiking today than sitting in a coffee shop with my foot throbbing, but perhaps this is the means by which I am able to grow...it couldn't happen any other way.
Last Saturday I was out in Unaweep Canyon, Colorado bouldering with my sister and some friends. It was a perfect day with 5 hours of climbing and hanging out. I had just got new climbing shoes too, so I was super stoked to get out and climb a lot...even more stoked than I normally am.
After about 4 1/2 hours of bouldering, we found this awesome vertical face. It was beautiful. Small holds, really delicate movement, and a potential first ascent. It was glorious.
We worked for an hour on this boulder and on one of the last tries of the day, just as the sun was setting, my foot slipped off this dime-sized ledge, and needless to say, I fell.
It was a good thing my friends had already left because their 18-month old daughter did not need to hear the things I said while they resonated off the canyon walls. My sister Kristi drove us to the ER back in Grand Junction. I left my climbing shoe on to reduce the swelling and by the time we got there, my foot was not only in pain, but was also asleep, which was a new combination of sensations for me.
And while I knew this in theory, I was reminded that in order to grow, whether in one's talus bone or in life, there has to be pain. The main character in a story is never the same as he/she was at the beginning of the story because they go through some kind of suffering. And that suffering could be internal as they deal with a breakup or divorce or death of a loved one, or it could be external as Bruce Willis tries to save the city once again from German terrorists.
But whatever it is, we need suffering in this way don't we? We actually need some kind of pain in order to grow as people. I know this is true and it's hard because I'd rather be out climbing or hiking today than sitting in a coffee shop with my foot throbbing, but perhaps this is the means by which I am able to grow...it couldn't happen any other way.
Friday, September 9, 2011
House and a Good Story
I don't have TV. I mean, I have a TV, but I don't have cable or Netflix or satellite or anything like that. I sometimes wish I did, but we don't really need it. I have an XBOX 360 that I would love to play XBOX Live on, but we don't have internet either. I have to come to the coffee shop by our house to get a signal. I recently heard that Norway or Sweden have made internet a human right. I tried telling this to my wife Teri, but she has trouble equating internet to food, water, and shelter. So I'm still walking to the coffee shop.
Instead of TV, I end up heading to the library and renting DVDs or old TV shows or documentaries. I've learned a lot about Miles Davis, Muhammad Ali, and Bob Dylan. In between documentaries, I watch the reruns of TV shows. In the past few months, I've been addicted to watching House M.D. Love this show. Originally, I loved this show because of the character Thirteen, who is just all kinds of good looking. But when I realized she wasn't in the early seasons of the show, I had to find new reasons to watch.
One episode I watched had a patient who had just hidden her teenage pregnancy by wearing baggy clothes. A boy kept visiting her while she was in the hospital and the staff thought he was a bully who was coming by to taunt her. In fact Kutner, one of the doctors on House, was so irritated with him for being a bully, you started to realize that he must have been bullied as a teenager and was sort of projecting something...
In a way, he was projecting something, it just turned out that Kutner was the bully, not the one being bullied. The end of the episode shows him knocking on an unknown man's door in order to apologize to him for treating him so poorly while in high school.
All that to say that I think this is what makes House a good show. It's what makes good movies good and good stories good. I think it's because in order to make a good story, the characters have to go to "those places". They have to do the thing they really don't want to do. They have to have the conversation that is so hard to have. They have to apologize.
But as I watched Kutner head up the stairs to his old classmates' front door, I began to wonder if that's what makes a meaningful life as well. Does my life become more meaningful when I do the thing I don't really want to do. When I have the conversation that is so hard to have. When I apologize.
And maybe my life is better when I tell my wife I love her, even if we just gotten done fighting. Maybe my story is better when I apologize for not loving my neighbors in the way I know I should. Maybe my story is more compelling when I begin to stop talking about writing and actually write.
It could be anything I suppose. I'd imagine there are a thousand different ways to live a better story. This just happens to be the one House is teaching me right now.
Instead of TV, I end up heading to the library and renting DVDs or old TV shows or documentaries. I've learned a lot about Miles Davis, Muhammad Ali, and Bob Dylan. In between documentaries, I watch the reruns of TV shows. In the past few months, I've been addicted to watching House M.D. Love this show. Originally, I loved this show because of the character Thirteen, who is just all kinds of good looking. But when I realized she wasn't in the early seasons of the show, I had to find new reasons to watch.
One episode I watched had a patient who had just hidden her teenage pregnancy by wearing baggy clothes. A boy kept visiting her while she was in the hospital and the staff thought he was a bully who was coming by to taunt her. In fact Kutner, one of the doctors on House, was so irritated with him for being a bully, you started to realize that he must have been bullied as a teenager and was sort of projecting something...
In a way, he was projecting something, it just turned out that Kutner was the bully, not the one being bullied. The end of the episode shows him knocking on an unknown man's door in order to apologize to him for treating him so poorly while in high school.
But as I watched Kutner head up the stairs to his old classmates' front door, I began to wonder if that's what makes a meaningful life as well. Does my life become more meaningful when I do the thing I don't really want to do. When I have the conversation that is so hard to have. When I apologize.
And maybe my life is better when I tell my wife I love her, even if we just gotten done fighting. Maybe my story is better when I apologize for not loving my neighbors in the way I know I should. Maybe my story is more compelling when I begin to stop talking about writing and actually write.
It could be anything I suppose. I'd imagine there are a thousand different ways to live a better story. This just happens to be the one House is teaching me right now.
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