Immeasurably More

Several months ago while in conversation with an agnostic friend the phrase "Pray Hard" came up.  I've long forgotten the details of the original conversation, but afterwards I began to think over the questions: What do members of the American Protestant Evangelical sub-culture actually mean when they say "Life is short. Pray Hard."?  How do you pray "hard"? What do non-church goers actually understand from this statement when they see it emblazoned on a t-shirt? 1 Having grown up in a Christian home, Christian schools, Christian college - I realized that, to a large degree, I have simply stopped seeing these common "statements of faith".  I pass over them without a second thought, until someone like my friend asks for an explanation. Many, like this one, won't stand up to the slightest questioning: "Good morning.  This is God.  I will be handling all your affairs today." So... I should make a call to my brother? &qu

Dear Reader, I have a theory that underneath our adult exteriors hides a version of our seven year old selves that likes to get out once in a while.  I've long since outgrown the pastel pink heart wall paper that I choose when I was 10 and that still hangs on the walls of the bedroom where I grew up (and where I'm sleeping now), but I've never really given up on the idea of being a dancer or an ice skater (Or both!  Why choose?!) So when my mother asked me if there was anything I wanted for my birthday this year, I asked for figure skates.  Just like the wallpaper, these were duly picked out by me and paid for by my parents.  (Thanks, Mom and Dad!)  And I signed up for adult Learn to Skate classes at the ice rink in Tulsa. Class 1, Lesson 1, Demonstration 1: How to fall without bruising a tailbone or blowing out a wrist. (Hint: This is one of those times when a little extra padding around the hips helps.  Pass the donuts.) While I appreciate the value of falling s

Several months ago I was visiting the Dallas Museum of Art and came across this painting by René Magritte. This is not a pipe. We are creative. (Dorothy Sayers The Mind of the Maker )   We reason and understand. (St. Augustine Confessions )    We are relational and yearn to love and be loved.  (Dr. Henry Cloud Changes that Heal ) I hope you will agree that it is not a pipe.  If you put tobacco on it and hold a match to it, it won't respond the way a real pipe would.  (Though if you like playing with fire, that might be fun to try!)  This is, in fact, the mere image of a pipe, and the image of a thing is not the thing itself. Perhaps the painting stood out to me because I had recently been asked "what does it mean for man to be made in the image of God?"** Books, dear Reader, books.  Books have been written on this subject by people more educated and thoughtful than I am.  A short list of responses:  But as I stood turning over in my hands a

Dear Reader, It has been exactly four months since I last wrote to you. I have found over the recent months that uncertainty about my job and summer living plans, as well as family commitments and social activities have left me little mental space for retelling amusing anecdotes or following the wandering threads of my own ideas.  In fact, I have sometimes wondered - as I have waited for some response (any response!) to a work email or tripped over the toe picks of my new ice skates or stared at the pink interior of chicken breasts cooked precisely according to the recipe or followed the advice of the GPS only to end up in exactly the wrong lane of traffic - whether there wasn't just ONE thing in life that maybe I was even a little bit good at. So I say a sincere "Thank You" to each of you who has inquired about the future of this blog and told me how much you enjoy reading it. The current state of my life is this: On Monday morning shortly after my parents left