A few weeks ago, I was given a summons to appear at court for jury duty. On Monday, I fulfilled my obligation, and should not be asked again for another three years. This was my first time and honestly it was quite an experience and rather fun. I've decided for the purpose of being true to the moment to record what I had written in my journal while hanging out in the courthouse:
"10:26am - I am sitting in the Bexar County courthouse in the central jury room. I am summoned for jury duty ... or at least waiting to see if I am selected to be a juror. I have a back pack of stuff to keep me occupied for the day long of waiting. One, of course being this journal. Also, my laptop with free wi-fi and a book I am nearly finished with only an hour and half into this thing.
Well, all right. The third panel of the morning is called and I am selected, number 5 out of 25. We will see what happens.
...
10:58am - still waiting in the first floor hallway to be called into county court no. 1. So now I am undertaking the task of people watching. I am sitting on the floor at the intersection of the stairs and elevators and the main hallway. Lawyers are a funny thing to watch and listen to as they interact with each other.
The bailiff assigned to our little band of 25 is sarcastic. I guess it's better to make the job fun when dealing with volunteers who didn't really at all volunteer. I was trying to help him out by telling him what order were in (i.e. juror no. 1 is to my left) because a lady got out of line and forgot her place. He told me he put us backwards intentionally, and then made a funny comment about that he knows what he's doing. Juror no. 4 next to me told me after the bailiff walked away that she thought he was rude and didn't have to put me down like that. I just chuckled and told her that I can take his sarcasm. He's just poking fun & it's not at all malicious.
I would much prefer to jot the life happenings since returning from India (has it really been that long ago?!) and truly much is to be written. However, I have no idea when I will be called into the court room, and don't want to have an interrupted stream of thought - I do that well enough without help.
...
11:25am - Hmm. Still sitting in the hallway. It's 5 minutes till 11:30am when the juror peoples' lunch break is scheduled to begin. I wonder if the bailiff will tell us to do lunch then come back to waiting in the hallway, or we'll do our thing and have a late lunch. This is my first time; everything is a guess.
...
11:51am - Okay, progress! At 11:46am we were lined again for a change of scene. We were escorted into court room no. 8 and told that this would be our home for the afternoon. All I know is it is a criminal case. So now on lunch break, I am sitting in the hallway, just pulled out my laptop and ready to see what the world is up to.
...
12:52pm - I have roughly 20 min. until we are suppose to be back in line in the hallway where we've spent most of the morning.
(rambling on about different things that came into my head, ending with topics related to my previous post and 'Now what?')
'Now what' is to go back into court room no. 8 to see if I'm dismissed or selected. More later, whenever later is.
...
3:30pm-ish - whew. So the case is a DWI case, the defendant being a young male and the prosecution being the state of Texas as represented by the District Attorney's office. The funniest thing is every time the 25 jurors enter the room. The bailiff, leading us, calls out "all rise for the jury!" I smiled every time I heard it and tried very hard not to laugh out right. I never knew they stood for us, just the judge. eh, good times. And oh, all the jurors were re-numbered for some unknown reason (this is me hoping that it wasn't my fault for posting anything on facebook and twitter). I am now juror no. 4. The previous juror no. 4, my neighbor for the past hours is now no. 25.
So the judge explained a bit about what was going on and what was about to go on. Nice lady. She must have gotten tired of the black robe. The defense went first, asking us general and specific questions about our experiences with DWI, police, vehicle related accidents, different types of information presented as proof, and such to see if we think we would be fair and unbiased to both sides. Then the prosecution had their turn to do the same. I had no idea DWI was an opinion type of case. Without a blood-alcohol percent, it is the arresting officer's judgment if the individual is intoxicated (i.e. drunk) not just had been drinking or smelled like or whatever. I have discovered that I do not solely trust sobriety tests. If there was an established constant for each person, then I would feel better about it - but some people naturally have balance issues or eye-hand coordination issues. But then again, if are even possibly borderline intoxicated or had anything to drink shortly before wanting to leave - you should not drive! Driving is dangerous (and yes, sometimes fatal) without being hindered. Anyway, after recessing so that both sides could figure out who to eliminate from the jury as the faithful 25 went back into our real home, the hallway, we headed back in following the "all rise for the jury!". I was dismissed. Apparently I have the ability to be biased for and against both parties in several ways. So no one wanted me. Oh well.
Over all, not a bad first time. At least I was able to experience something outside of the basement (central jury room) by being called into a panel. My work here is done."
3/20/2009
3/15/2009
what's next?
So ...
Sorry, disrupting post for a short line of thinking: I begin a lot of thoughts with 'so'. I think it has something to do with the fact that whatever finally spills out through my mouth (or fingers), I have been churning in my head. So nothing is a stand-alone thought. Everything has context and is part of a larger story. I simply chose to give voice to a few strands of ideas while the rest is filtered or forgotten. Anyway, back to my 'so'.
So, I have been investigating what life might look like next for me. The last several years have had dramatically different looks and situations and life-changing moments. It is very much in my character to have things planned out. Now, hardly ever do things happen in the way that I plan, but I'm alright with that - God's imagination is bigger and more eternal than mine.
Very recently I found myself pondering about becoming a Peace Corps volunteer. I was very willing to see how that might look for me. I was getting pretty excited. A week ago however, after meeting with a recruiter, I went away with a feeling that it was not a good fit for me. Their focus (though an extremely good one) does not fit my passions and gifts. So no Peace Corps, at least for now.
Well, then what? Since I would not need to contend with that particular 2-year commitment, what should I focus on? The previous ministry I served with in India (Engineering Ministries International) is an amazing organization doing good work all over the world. But for me right now, it costs money I don't have, and more to the point probably, I don't yet feel qualified to be the sole architect on a team. Some day - and I don't ever choose to use that phrase as a cop out.
I greatly enjoyed Habitat for Humanity, both locally and on the international scene. So I have already scheduled to volunteer several days with the upcoming spring build here in San Antonio, and hopefully a two-week trip to somewhere (Alaska, Brazil, Macedonia ... I don't know yet) this fall.
I have also decided that it would be good for me to stop putting off graduate school. So I will be working on putting together another portfolio, polishing my resume, writing essays, and getting transcripts and such. Hopefully to start in the fall on a two-year study for Masters of Architecture.
That's where I'm at. We'll see what sticks and what else God has intentioned and made ready for me to join him in. Here's to life. (clinks of imaginary drinking glasses goes here)
Sorry, disrupting post for a short line of thinking: I begin a lot of thoughts with 'so'. I think it has something to do with the fact that whatever finally spills out through my mouth (or fingers), I have been churning in my head. So nothing is a stand-alone thought. Everything has context and is part of a larger story. I simply chose to give voice to a few strands of ideas while the rest is filtered or forgotten. Anyway, back to my 'so'.
So, I have been investigating what life might look like next for me. The last several years have had dramatically different looks and situations and life-changing moments. It is very much in my character to have things planned out. Now, hardly ever do things happen in the way that I plan, but I'm alright with that - God's imagination is bigger and more eternal than mine.
Very recently I found myself pondering about becoming a Peace Corps volunteer. I was very willing to see how that might look for me. I was getting pretty excited. A week ago however, after meeting with a recruiter, I went away with a feeling that it was not a good fit for me. Their focus (though an extremely good one) does not fit my passions and gifts. So no Peace Corps, at least for now.
Well, then what? Since I would not need to contend with that particular 2-year commitment, what should I focus on? The previous ministry I served with in India (Engineering Ministries International) is an amazing organization doing good work all over the world. But for me right now, it costs money I don't have, and more to the point probably, I don't yet feel qualified to be the sole architect on a team. Some day - and I don't ever choose to use that phrase as a cop out.
I greatly enjoyed Habitat for Humanity, both locally and on the international scene. So I have already scheduled to volunteer several days with the upcoming spring build here in San Antonio, and hopefully a two-week trip to somewhere (Alaska, Brazil, Macedonia ... I don't know yet) this fall.
I have also decided that it would be good for me to stop putting off graduate school. So I will be working on putting together another portfolio, polishing my resume, writing essays, and getting transcripts and such. Hopefully to start in the fall on a two-year study for Masters of Architecture.
That's where I'm at. We'll see what sticks and what else God has intentioned and made ready for me to join him in. Here's to life. (clinks of imaginary drinking glasses goes here)
2/14/2009
motorcycle evangelism
I greatly enjoy riding my motorcycle. For me, riding brings me to a place of reflection, prayer, and general sabbath peace. So it is easy for me to speak well of it to others, to encourage people to become a rider, and ohh, the gas mileage is phenomenal.
I was at dinner with my sister. It was a wonderful time of conversation, but that's not the point. I met her at the restaurant on my bike. I set my helmet and jacket on the seat beside me, and the waitress serving us saw it. She said that she had wanted to ride for years now. And the conversation began. And it was an easy one to have. I told her what I like about my cruiser, how much my insurance was, and gave her info on the riding school I went to to get licensed.
Now I pose the question I asked my sister: motorcyclists have cool apparel and the beautiful body styles of the bike's themselves to spark interest and conversation. What are those things that Christians have? Why can't evangelism be as easy as talking up about the other things we love?
The cross, once powerful in image and full of meaning, now for many is a simple iconic fad accessory for no other reason than it is part of their look.
¿Qué más?
Carry my travel Bible with me? But that's awfully silly if the point of bringing it is to set on the table in public.
How about our lives? Our character and integrity of speech and action? Is that sufficient to perk people's interest in why and for what we do as Christians? I hope so because I know no better witness than our lives played out in love and faith in and for God. So then the next question is: is my life the witness I desire it to be?
I was at dinner with my sister. It was a wonderful time of conversation, but that's not the point. I met her at the restaurant on my bike. I set my helmet and jacket on the seat beside me, and the waitress serving us saw it. She said that she had wanted to ride for years now. And the conversation began. And it was an easy one to have. I told her what I like about my cruiser, how much my insurance was, and gave her info on the riding school I went to to get licensed.
Now I pose the question I asked my sister: motorcyclists have cool apparel and the beautiful body styles of the bike's themselves to spark interest and conversation. What are those things that Christians have? Why can't evangelism be as easy as talking up about the other things we love?
The cross, once powerful in image and full of meaning, now for many is a simple iconic fad accessory for no other reason than it is part of their look.
¿Qué más?
Carry my travel Bible with me? But that's awfully silly if the point of bringing it is to set on the table in public.
How about our lives? Our character and integrity of speech and action? Is that sufficient to perk people's interest in why and for what we do as Christians? I hope so because I know no better witness than our lives played out in love and faith in and for God. So then the next question is: is my life the witness I desire it to be?
2/09/2009
school life
So I have been trying (not very hard) to get my stuff together for graduate school applications. I oscillate between expectation of new learning possibilities and approaching even closer to my goal to be a licensed architect ... and not wanting to loose myself once again into the pattern of no (or very little) sleep, having no time for a life outside of school and work and church, and just being utterly tired.
The last go around of school, I didn't participate in the college life. My friends were good for inside studio (though I almost never stayed there to work) and sometimes a study partner here and there. This weekend, while celebrating my sister's birthday in Austin, I had the opportunity to hang out with and see what fun her UT friends had with each other. They made a point to get together. It is a pretty cool thing. I know myself and the excuses I give, but none stand up. For example: one girl changed majors a year ago, as a junior, to petroleum engineering, and still chose to graduate in four years. Nuts, I say, but she manages well to still have a fairly balanced life. So me saying, 'But I would be an architecture student in grad school. There is a reason all architecture buildings on campus have nicknames that all say the same thing - the lights are always on because students are always working.'
So, when I finally do get my act together and finish my portfolio, resume, essays, and other application needs, it would be good idea (I think) to discover how to enjoy school life meshed nicely into life outside of school. That's the plan anyway.
The last go around of school, I didn't participate in the college life. My friends were good for inside studio (though I almost never stayed there to work) and sometimes a study partner here and there. This weekend, while celebrating my sister's birthday in Austin, I had the opportunity to hang out with and see what fun her UT friends had with each other. They made a point to get together. It is a pretty cool thing. I know myself and the excuses I give, but none stand up. For example: one girl changed majors a year ago, as a junior, to petroleum engineering, and still chose to graduate in four years. Nuts, I say, but she manages well to still have a fairly balanced life. So me saying, 'But I would be an architecture student in grad school. There is a reason all architecture buildings on campus have nicknames that all say the same thing - the lights are always on because students are always working.'
So, when I finally do get my act together and finish my portfolio, resume, essays, and other application needs, it would be good idea (I think) to discover how to enjoy school life meshed nicely into life outside of school. That's the plan anyway.
1/23/2009
too much
This week, the architecture firm that I work at has been conducting annual performance interviews for every employee. Really, it is purposefully a semi-casual environment that everybody dresses über professional for (i.e. guys in ties and/or sport jacket and ladies ... who knows). I have been at this firm for many years now (since my senior year in high school), and I have spent time with all of my reviewers (4 in all!), so there was no point in being nervous.
So we were sitting and chatting waiting for the last reviewer to join us. It started, it ended, no biggie.
One of the last questions asked me was how do I rate my performance over the last year ... well, half year. My answer: I feel sluggish because I am only working 30 hours and the market is a little slower. It probably seems much more slow to me because I am more accustomed to running than walking - working overtime and rushing to meet project deadlines than having time between tasks and taking off Fridays.
The K of RVK (where I work) corrected me. He said that my six month vacation was no vacation; it was a sabbatical. The best thing that I could have done for myself was going to India. I was at work too much and doing school too much. I thought about adding in church to the short list, but figured it would not help my cause. He then said that I had no life.
That was true. I am working on discovering what having a life looks like. it may mean hanging out with friends - like eating dinner, or enjoying not having something going on every evening after work, having time to volunteer at Habitat for Humanity, or (possibly my favorite) deciding and following through with a wonderful afternoon nap. Currently I am sitting outside at a friend's house watching and playing and loving their dogs. Sitting in the sun is good. Breathing is good. Life is good.
So we were sitting and chatting waiting for the last reviewer to join us. It started, it ended, no biggie.
One of the last questions asked me was how do I rate my performance over the last year ... well, half year. My answer: I feel sluggish because I am only working 30 hours and the market is a little slower. It probably seems much more slow to me because I am more accustomed to running than walking - working overtime and rushing to meet project deadlines than having time between tasks and taking off Fridays.
The K of RVK (where I work) corrected me. He said that my six month vacation was no vacation; it was a sabbatical. The best thing that I could have done for myself was going to India. I was at work too much and doing school too much. I thought about adding in church to the short list, but figured it would not help my cause. He then said that I had no life.
That was true. I am working on discovering what having a life looks like. it may mean hanging out with friends - like eating dinner, or enjoying not having something going on every evening after work, having time to volunteer at Habitat for Humanity, or (possibly my favorite) deciding and following through with a wonderful afternoon nap. Currently I am sitting outside at a friend's house watching and playing and loving their dogs. Sitting in the sun is good. Breathing is good. Life is good.
1/08/2009
memory/legacy
Part 1: My sister passed on an email that one of her friends sent her. Essentially, her military friend oversees had a conversation with an airman that was stationed in San Antonio at Lackland AFB. (He wants to go to a Spurs' game as soon as he gets back home.) The part that my sister's friend knew would be of interest to her, and thus to me as well, was that this airmen stationed far away from home knew and had worked with my dad.
"I thought you'd like to know that he is being remembered over here." It is very cool and special and some other emotions that I am not sure really what they are.
Part 2: My dad's old Sunday School class commissioned a sculptor in our church to have an altar cross made in memory/honor of my dad. It is a beautiful cross. (Thanks Mike, you did an amazing job).
My point in all this bragging of sorts is really a question. Why is having a dead loved one remembered by others (and yourself) important to us? They are no longer here; their body has begun decay, burned to ash, or (as I desire) played with/on by medical people. Why is memory something that surpasses this and goes to the heart of it all?
I have a hunch it is at least something to do with wanting to be an impactful people and not wanting to live a life that is purposeless in the end. Or maybe memory is one of those God attributes that we are given to illustrate that God never forgets.
"I thought you'd like to know that he is being remembered over here." It is very cool and special and some other emotions that I am not sure really what they are.
Part 2: My dad's old Sunday School class commissioned a sculptor in our church to have an altar cross made in memory/honor of my dad. It is a beautiful cross. (Thanks Mike, you did an amazing job).
My point in all this bragging of sorts is really a question. Why is having a dead loved one remembered by others (and yourself) important to us? They are no longer here; their body has begun decay, burned to ash, or (as I desire) played with/on by medical people. Why is memory something that surpasses this and goes to the heart of it all?
I have a hunch it is at least something to do with wanting to be an impactful people and not wanting to live a life that is purposeless in the end. Or maybe memory is one of those God attributes that we are given to illustrate that God never forgets.
12/25/2008
grown-up christmas wish
I heard a sermon illustration at the beginning of Advent that has stuck with me these weeks leading into Christmas. Here is the Tammi version - cut down in areas and elaborated where I want.
So kids have no issues telling Santa what they want for Christmas. They lay it all out there. Announce it to the world. Mail letters to the North Pole. And then they wait expectantly.
As an adult, it is like pulling teeth to figure out what someone wants. "Just tell me something so that I know what to get you" we say. But what do we really want for Christmas ... really? Do we not share our hearts and our desires and dreams because we have had our hopes dashed too many times? Are we afraid that it is simply not possible to receive that which we truly desire in the deepest of our beings?
This is kind of where I am at. I don't need "things"; I don't want "things". I have seem happiness when despair might have been a better answer. I have seen such clinging to hope when life isn't life. And stuff doesn't answer the questions that creep in nor the tears that appear without prompting.
I don't want anything for Christmas because what I want, I cannot have. What is my grown-up Christmas wish? To hug my dad, have him hold me. To have our fun, random conversations. To tell him that I love him. He didn't hear that enough.
So what else do I want for Christmas, something that IS possible? To love life, love friends, love hope, love my God. Merry Christmas all!
So kids have no issues telling Santa what they want for Christmas. They lay it all out there. Announce it to the world. Mail letters to the North Pole. And then they wait expectantly.
As an adult, it is like pulling teeth to figure out what someone wants. "Just tell me something so that I know what to get you" we say. But what do we really want for Christmas ... really? Do we not share our hearts and our desires and dreams because we have had our hopes dashed too many times? Are we afraid that it is simply not possible to receive that which we truly desire in the deepest of our beings?
This is kind of where I am at. I don't need "things"; I don't want "things". I have seem happiness when despair might have been a better answer. I have seen such clinging to hope when life isn't life. And stuff doesn't answer the questions that creep in nor the tears that appear without prompting.
I don't want anything for Christmas because what I want, I cannot have. What is my grown-up Christmas wish? To hug my dad, have him hold me. To have our fun, random conversations. To tell him that I love him. He didn't hear that enough.
So what else do I want for Christmas, something that IS possible? To love life, love friends, love hope, love my God. Merry Christmas all!
11/27/2008
benefits of not being clergy
I am exceedingly thankful that I am a lay person and not clergy. Why would anyone willing do this? (I say this knowing that my sister is clergy and I have many clergy friends.)
I was reminded why I am thankful for my non-profession status within the church last night. Right now, we (a substantial population of the Williamson clan and extended others) are gathered in Abilene, TX for Thanksgiving. Dinner today will be at least 30 people gathered around several tables, and then we disperse to various napping "stations" (where ever you sit/lay and manage to fall asleep) and football watching.
Anyway, last night both my sister and I were sitting on a couch when our aunt's brother-in-law came over and we started chatting. After learning that Kelli is a pastor, the questions began. The good thing is that he was asking honest questions instead of defensive or antagonistic retorts. I am a fan of the question we heard, "so what do ya'll (Methodists) believe?" Go ahead and try to answer that one. No other promptings. Good times. What I appreciated is that I could answer with, "well, this is what I have come to believe, but I am still learning and could very well be wrong". Clergy don't have that benefit. Once it is discovered what they do, they are direct representatives of that denomination/sect/religion. So my sister was trying to answer various questions with guarded and cautious responses because what she says becomes truth in his eyes. I like having the opportunity to be wrong (sadly, it does happen) and no harm, no foul.
So there's one more thing tallied up to be thankful for this day. Have a happy thankful day and every day.
I was reminded why I am thankful for my non-profession status within the church last night. Right now, we (a substantial population of the Williamson clan and extended others) are gathered in Abilene, TX for Thanksgiving. Dinner today will be at least 30 people gathered around several tables, and then we disperse to various napping "stations" (where ever you sit/lay and manage to fall asleep) and football watching.
Anyway, last night both my sister and I were sitting on a couch when our aunt's brother-in-law came over and we started chatting. After learning that Kelli is a pastor, the questions began. The good thing is that he was asking honest questions instead of defensive or antagonistic retorts. I am a fan of the question we heard, "so what do ya'll (Methodists) believe?" Go ahead and try to answer that one. No other promptings. Good times. What I appreciated is that I could answer with, "well, this is what I have come to believe, but I am still learning and could very well be wrong". Clergy don't have that benefit. Once it is discovered what they do, they are direct representatives of that denomination/sect/religion. So my sister was trying to answer various questions with guarded and cautious responses because what she says becomes truth in his eyes. I like having the opportunity to be wrong (sadly, it does happen) and no harm, no foul.
So there's one more thing tallied up to be thankful for this day. Have a happy thankful day and every day.
11/19/2008
hurry up and rest
Being in a hurry is a strange thing. Not to say I am unfamiliar with the concept - quite the contrary actually (and sadly). Allow me to expound on it by way of something that I just realized today.
I don't eat breakfast. I like breakfast foods, just at other times of the day. I used to eat breakfast back as a kid until mid-high school-ish. Back then, I really looked forward to that time. I would need to get up early for morning practice (either basketball or band or both), and my dad would also be up early because he was very much a morning person and would drop me off at school on the way into work. So the morning was kind of our little space of time to sit, eat, and catch up on what was happening in that day. It was a nice breath time before the craziness began.
But now, I have learned to value my sleep. I am still a morning person, but I simply "maximize" my time. I get as much of those precious last minutes of sleep, I get up and ready, and then rush off to work. I don't want to "waste" my beloved morning time just sitting around. This is the part that I realized today. And how sad. But I don't want to remedy it.
I also encountered that this last weekend. I decided that I wanted to just go for a ride. It was a beautiful Saturday morning, and I didn't want it to slip by me (especially with winter approaching). So I took me, my motorcycle, and my camera, and we (the plural me) rode out to Fredericksburg, about an hour from where I live. And when I got there, I turned around and headed back. But on the way, I found myself hurrying to get ... to get where? It was the ride I wanted and not the destination. Having to literally ask myself, "Self, why I am rushing to relax? Slow down, and enjoy the ride."
I am hundred-fold better at that than I was even a year ago. I do make time now to be chillin' - lounging on my hammock, jumping on my bike for a random ride, or even sitting quietly with my eyes closed when going from one meeting to another or one location to the next. But, oh how much improvement there is to be had.
I don't eat breakfast. I like breakfast foods, just at other times of the day. I used to eat breakfast back as a kid until mid-high school-ish. Back then, I really looked forward to that time. I would need to get up early for morning practice (either basketball or band or both), and my dad would also be up early because he was very much a morning person and would drop me off at school on the way into work. So the morning was kind of our little space of time to sit, eat, and catch up on what was happening in that day. It was a nice breath time before the craziness began.
But now, I have learned to value my sleep. I am still a morning person, but I simply "maximize" my time. I get as much of those precious last minutes of sleep, I get up and ready, and then rush off to work. I don't want to "waste" my beloved morning time just sitting around. This is the part that I realized today. And how sad. But I don't want to remedy it.
I also encountered that this last weekend. I decided that I wanted to just go for a ride. It was a beautiful Saturday morning, and I didn't want it to slip by me (especially with winter approaching). So I took me, my motorcycle, and my camera, and we (the plural me) rode out to Fredericksburg, about an hour from where I live. And when I got there, I turned around and headed back. But on the way, I found myself hurrying to get ... to get where? It was the ride I wanted and not the destination. Having to literally ask myself, "Self, why I am rushing to relax? Slow down, and enjoy the ride."
I am hundred-fold better at that than I was even a year ago. I do make time now to be chillin' - lounging on my hammock, jumping on my bike for a random ride, or even sitting quietly with my eyes closed when going from one meeting to another or one location to the next. But, oh how much improvement there is to be had.
11/15/2008
disappointment with God
(from Yancey's Disappointment With God, page 47 & 48) "For a time God did show up in person, and a man spoke to him face to face as he might speak with a friend. They met together, God and Moses, in a tent pitched just outside the Israelite camp. The rendezvous was no secret. Whenever Moses trudged over to the tent to talk with God, the whole camp turned out to watch. ... And yet what happened during those days almost defies belief. When Moses climbed the sacred mountain stormy with the signs of God's presence, those people who had lived through the ten plagues of Egypt, who had crossed the Red Sea on dry ground, who had drunk water from a rock, who were digesting the miracle manna in their stomachs at that moment - those same people got bored or impatient or rebellious or jealous and apparently forgot all about their God. ... God did not play hide-and-seek with the Israelites; they had every proof of his existence you could ask for. ... The Israelites responded not with worship and love, but with fear and open rebellion. God's visible presence did nothing to improve lasting faith."
And yet.
I [finally] finished reading a book that a friend from my time in India gave me just before leaving. They knew what they were getting themselves into when they accepted me for the internship. With good counsel, I had not made secret what I had recently gone through or was currently going through - and those wonderful people that I worked with, housed with, ate with, worshipped with, accepted the risk that I thought I was. I did experience some times of strong emotion - and not necessarily just around the days of a year out of my dad's death, or his first birthday non-anniversary. I read the book of Job as if I were back in English AP class, dissecting the text for every bit of anything. I so wanted to feel God's presence again, His arms around me holding me up lest I fall.
But maybe sometimes it is better not to have the direct encounter. Because I continued to seek Him, I found beauty and peace. That's not to say that I still do not wish God would say, 'I know I did the direct communication and visible presence thing with the Israelites and it did not work out well for them ... but I will give it another shot.' With the knowledge that God wants me to do this or that, it would make planning specifically much easier. I'm just saying ...
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