Author: esteban

Open Road

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"No Man's Land" - Oklahoma Panhandle

I love traveling.  In particular, I love driving.  I especially love driving the open roads of the Llano Estacado and the high mountain deserts of West Texas, New Mexico and Arizona.  This is where I grew up.  If you’ve never driven those wide empty plains and experienced the sense of freedom that comes with it, it is hard to explain the attraction.

The photo above is from my most recent trip westward, through the Panhandle of Oklahoma and into the northeastern corner of New Mexico.  The empty highway, void of heavy traffic, induce a meditative state, yet still alert, that allows my mental processes the freedom to explore all sorts of new possibilities, new explanations, as well as those unspoken fears and questions found deep down inside.

I imagine this is what contemplative prayer is like.  I’ve never quite been able to accomplish this same level of mental freedom or release in prayer.  It is elusive and frustrating.  Usually, my thoughts are disordered, somewhat frantic in nature and undisciplined when I’m trying to be meditative or contemplative.  I’ve been told that I can learn to do this better with practice.  The open road, perhaps paired with the mental act of driving, is a better environment for me.

I have loved the open road ever since I learned to drive the summer after my 16th birthday.  I have undoubtedly driven hundreds of thousands of miles, yet my thoughts often go back to my first experiences of driving on the Llano Estacado in and around Hobbs, New Mexico.  The long straight roads, with the warm air blowing through the open windows, have ever since been my favorite kind of solitude.  I must do it more often.

My aunt says that we have “gypsy blood” because everyone in my family is much like me.  At any given moment, at least one of us is traveling somewhere.  Perhaps you, dear reader, are like me, itching to go at a moments notice, to be somewhere other than “here.”

Although at times it can seem like a curse, when responsibilities and the needs of others take precedence, there is always a sense of excitement and anticipation when the next journey approaches.  The next several months are offering several opportunities.  Some familiar places to visit and some new ones.

I can hardly wait!

A Dream Come True!

/ esteban

I have always wanted GPS that has a little more attitude.  I may have to get one of these some day!

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2ljFfL-mL70]

Creativity

/ esteban

One of the things that I always appreciated when working with college students is their creativity.  About 5 years ago, we started have a Newman Film Festival as one of our end of year activities.  We encouraged students to produce their own short videos and enter them into a contest.  Now, as most things go, it was usual that they would wait to make their videos on the day of the festival.  Nonetheless, their ability to create something really entertaining never failed.

Here is a sampling of a few of their works from the last few years, starting with the winner of this year’s contest.  (Some of the “classic” videos haven’t made it to YouTube.  If they every do, I’ll add them!)

Spice Girls Wannabe (2010)

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MAezrKcOK58]

Cookie Girl Music Video (2010)

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ARMW0WItK7s]

Music for Moving On (2010)

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6ejBYclsCl0]

I Want It That Way (2010)

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J89bNhLr1eI]

Abbatial Blessing @ Clear Creek Abbey

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[slideshow]

Yesterday, I had the privilege of attending the “Abbatial Blessing” of the 1st Abbot of Our Lady of Clear Creek Abbey.  The above photo slideshow doesn’t really do it justice.

This Benedictine monastery is located in northeastern Oklahoma, about an hour’s drive from Tulsa.  It is a monastic foundation of the French Abbey Notre Dame de Fontgombault, itself a foundation of Saint Pierre de Solesmes.  It was started about 10 years ago and just in February, I believe, they were raised to the status of an abbey and given independence from Fontgombault.  (I believe the proceeding was all accurately stated …).

The following description of the Rite is from the program given to those in attendance:

The Rite of the blessing of an Abbot by the Bishop is referred to in the Holy Rule of Saint Benedict and attested to a half century later under Pope Saint Gregory the Great, then in the eight century.  The Bishop surrounded by other Prelates, conferred on the new abbot his crozier and sandals.  In our day, the present Rite brings out the liturgical enrichment over the course of the centuries.

The blessing takes place during the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, after the Gospel.  The Rite of blessing is composed of the presentation of the Abbot to the Bishop by two of his monks, a brief questioning afte the homily of the Bishop, and finally the solemn Blessing, which is preceded by the Litany of the Saints.  The Rite is concluded with the handing over of the Rule and the Abbatial Insignia (ring, miter, and crozier) and the kiss of peace, followed by the obedience of the new Abbot’s monks.

The Father Abbot concelebrates Holy Mass beside the Bishop.

As described, this is pretty much what happened.  The Mass was in Latin, according to the Benedictine tradition, as was to be expected. I don’t know how many people were in attendance, but the crypt Church was filled to capacity, with additional seating in the vestibule and outside as well.  The number was easily 700 or more and I saw many friends and other notable people from Tulsa’s Catholic community.

There was also another bishop attending as well as abbots from other monasteries in the US and France.

A particularly interesting part of the Rite was the interrogation of the Abbot-elect by the Bishop, prior to giving his official blessing.  I don’t know the origin of this, but here is the English translation of the questions asked by Bishop Slattery of the Tulsa Diocese, in Latin:

Holy Mother Church’s Ancient Tradition teaches and prescribes us to question him who has been chosen to lead his brethren in the name of Christ:  the Bishop himself must ascertain whether the new abbot is determined to fill his charge fittingly.  That is why, very dear Brother, following her wise guidance, I now ask:

Will you remain faithful in your monastic commitment to observe the Rule of Saint Benedict and will you incite your brothers to do the same, and lead them thus to the love of God, in the life of the Gospel and fraternal charity?

Will you teach your brothers by your constant dedication to monastic life, by sound doctrine, and by the good example of your own deeds rather than by mere words?

Will you lead your brothers to God taking to heart the spiritual good of those entrusted to your care?

Will you faithfully watch over the goods of your monastery with the duty of suing them wisely for the benefit of your brothers, of the poor and of the pilgrims?

Will you always and in all matters be loyal, obedient, and reverent to the holy Church and to our Holy Father the Pope and his successors?

May the Lord grant you these and all good things, and guard you always and everywhere.

The Prayer of the Abbatial Blessing follows after the singing of the Litany of the Saints.

It was a beautiful day and the lands of the monastery were very pretty at this early spring time, the tree just coming into full leaf and the redbuds and wild flowers in bloom.  I was very glad to have attended this special rite of the Church, something that I may never be able to witness again in the future.

Note:  The Mass and Abbatial Blessing took place in the Crypt Church of the Monastery.  Since it is only 10 years old, they have only completed construction of a portion of the monastery, which includes cells for the monks, the refectory, guest quarters, offices, and the crypt (basement) part of the church.  The main church will be built above the crypt church at some point in the future.  In one of the photos above, you can see some of the monks ringing the monastery bells, which are in a ground level building, awaiting the day when they can be installed in a proper bell tower.

The monks support themselves by the raising of sheep, cattle, and other farming activities.  Currently, there are 34 monks at the abbey.

Learn more about the monks of Our Lady of the Assumption at Clear Creek Abbey at www.clearcreekmonks.org.

There’s a terrific slideshow at the Diocese of Tulsa website, that you can see here.

Tulsa's Oneok Field – Open House

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[slideshow]

Last week, I had the chance to walk around the new Oneok Baseball stadium in downtown Tulsa.  They did an outstanding job on this facility, placing it just so that you get a wonderful view of downtown while watching games.  I’m really looking forward to attending a game there.

The Tulsa Drillers are our AA baseball team, a farm club of the Colorado Rockies.

Remembering Hershey

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Hershey

I am sad today.

I just spoke with my brother and learned that their 13-yr old border collie passed away in the night.  Her name was Hershey and she was an awesome dog.  Sweet, loyal and brilliantly intelligent as only border collies can be.

I know it’s not unusual to say this, but my family has always had a strong attachment to its dogs and Hershey was a particular favorite among all of us.  It was heart wrenching to listen to my brother express his grief for an animal that was definitely an integral part of their family.  My brother’s kids, two sons and a daughter, have not heard this news as I write this.   It will be terrible for them too.

St. Thomas Aquinas, I believe, said that all living things have a soul, but only humans have eternal souls.  It comes from our unique relationship with God and that we were made in His image.   That is an awesome gift that we all fail to fully appreciate.

Perhaps there is still a special place in heaven for those animals that touch our lives.  It is obvious that they have touched our souls at least as much as we have touched theirs.

Bye-bye Hershey.

A Tail of Chloë

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“Steven?!?”
“Yes?”
“Can you come over?  Chloë got out and ran down to the end of the street and I can’t get her!”

My aunt Joanne is a wonderful person, a widow in her early 80’s, who still lives alone in the house she and my uncle bought in the early 70’s.  Just like her sister Mary, my mother, she has a penchant for attracting the strangest assortment of animals as pets.  She has the heart of St. Francis and has found her latest adoptees  from Animal Rescue groups who appear on the local morning news programs from time to time.  Chloë is the latest and most unique of all her pets.

Knowing that my aunt would be a little frantic at the thought of her dog running around the neighborhood, which is bounded by very busy streets, I rushed to her house to help the Search and Rescue teams that had no doubt been called into action.

My aunt was not at home when I arrived, so I knew that she was cruising the area in her Toyota minivan, trying to at least keep an eye on the dog until I managed to find them.  Trying to imagine which way the dog would run when set free, I circled the neighboring blocks around my aunt’s house to no avail.

Finally, turning a corner in the direction I least expected, I found my aunt’s van pulled to the curb, along with one of her neighbors, and an unlucky pair of plumbers that had been deputized into the posse.  Little Chloë was cornered under a car in someone’s carport still managing to stay out of reach of neighbors and plumbers alike.

Meet Chloë

Chloë

As I said before, Chloë came to my aunt from Animal Rescue.  So, what sort of animal is she that she managed to stage her own spring break-out and elude being captured by five grown adults?

Meet Chloë, a 10 lbs Japanese Chin, with one eye and four teeth.  She unfortunately came from the awful confines of a puppy mill and was so traumatized that she usually cowers under the bed.  But not on this day!  Today, Chloë broke free and ran the neighborhood just like the big dogs.

Eventually, Chloë was captured and returned home where she parked herself in the corner of the kitchen with a knowing gleam of excitement in her one remaining eye.  I imagine that some instinctual desire to feel the sun and wind in her face was at least momentarily satisfied.

Well done Chloë!  Please don’t do it again any time soon.

My clothes still smell like wet dog.

(here’s a shout out to Mullins Plumbing whose employees were neighborly and helped in the great search)

Bún chả giò & fortune cookies

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I had lunch today at my favorite Vietnamese restaurant, and I had my favorite dish, called Bún chả giò.   Don’t ask me how to pronounce it.  I’ve never gotten it right and now I’m rather embarrassed to try, so I just point at it in the menu and mumble something that sounds something like “boon chow gow.”  The server never laughs outright, so I tip really big.

Bún chả giò

This picture looks something like what I had.  What I find most interesting about the dish is the wonderful mix of textures.  It is layered with a bit of fresh salad, noodles, strips of Vietnamese style beef, and sliced egg rolls, and a bit of a sweet sauce.   I love it!

I always feel a little proud when I take someone new to this restaurant.  My parents, particularly my mom, was very good at getting us to try new restaurants and new foods whenever we were out and about.  I think this must be a bit uncommon because the usual reaction I get from my friends when I suggest going there is an immediate dubious look and the immediate search for excuses or an alternative restaurant suggestion.

Most of the time, though, when my dining companions are brave enough to try the place, they rave about the cuisine and I feel a small sense of accomplishment in introducing them to something new.

This particular place also ends the meal with the traditional Chinese fortune cookie.  I’m pretty sure they don’t have these in Vietnam, and they probably don’t have them in China either.   I’m guessing it’s just a bit of Americanization that customers have come to expect.

You have probably noticed too, that the “fortunes” in the cookies have stopped, for the most part, being fortunes but are more like proverbs.   Today’s little tidbit was something special though.  An affirmation!  It read “Other enjoy your radiance.”

My immediate reaction upon reading the little slip of paper was to joke about it.  It told my aunt, who was with me, that it was like getting a “get out of jail free” card in the game of Monopoly.  The next time someone accuses me of being cranky, I can just whip out this little slip of paper and say, “Oh yeah?  Look here, others enjoy my radiance and here’s proof!”

Upon reflection, I’ve decided that this is really a great compliment to give someone.  We, as flawed and fallible humans, can exude so much about ourselves.  Wouldn’t it be nice if that was really something radiant?  Perhaps that pentecostal grace of the Holy Spirit, really imbibing us with joy and determination, can really be seen by others in how we conduct our lives.

I’m going to keep this little slip of paper in my wallet and the next time I see that radiance in someone, I’ll try to slip it to them in a way that doesn’t tarnish them.

17,896 Days

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Me on a blanket

Here I am on a blanket in my baptismal robe & booties. How cute!

Today is my birthday and according to calculations, I have been alive for 17,896 days.  That seems like an enormous amount of time, and yet, I still feel like I’m just getting started.   I’ve been avoiding making a “bucket list”, but there are still lots of things that I want to do.  I’ll ponder that for another post.

Wait!  Don’t leave just yet.  Since I’m a history buff, here are some interesting things that have happened on this day, February 25th:

  • Pope Pius V excommunicated Queen Elizabeth I of England for schism and persecutions of English Catholics during her reign.  Pope Pius V was also the pope who named St. Thomas Aquinas a doctor of the Church and created the alliance that defeated the Ottomans at the famous Battle of Lepanto. (1570’s)
  • George Washington held his first cabinet meeting in 1793 and we’ve been trying to understand why ever since.
  • In 1947, the state of Prussia ceased to exist, apparently, it was under too much prussia.
  • Ferdinand Marcos flees the Philippines during the People Power Revolution. Corazon Aquino becomes the first female president.  Marcos was very surprised by all this.  He thought he was a shoe-in, not realizing that his wife, Imelda, actually had all the shoes.

Apparently, lots of famous people have been born on this date.   Here are some of the ones that I’ve heard of:

Sadly, there doesn’t seem to be any saint for this day on the Roman calendar.  I guess it leaves room for me.  Of course, that would mean I would have to do something saintly and actually die on my birthday.

Today’s Gospel reading includes this speech from Jesus to his disciples:

“Ask and it will be given to you;
seek and you will find;
knock and the door will be opened to you.
For everyone who asks, receives; and the one who seeks, finds;
and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened. (Mt 7:7-12)

This is good scripture for me.   I am always seeking and contentment always seems just out of reach.  Would you agree, dear reader, that this is just part of the human condition?

Here are some things planned for the next year:

  • March, 2010:  Travel to the state of Georgia for business and family.
  • April, 2010:  Travel to Haiti on parish mission exploratory trip.
  • August: 2010:  Travel to Boston for the Catholic New Media Celebration
  • October: 2010:  Travel to St. Louis for my friend Tom’s wedding.

This doesn’t seem like near enough adventure for this year. I hope to add to this list.  I’d like to plan a real vacation, perhaps to one of the states I haven’t visited yet, like Hawaii or Alaska.  Stay tuned.

OK, enough of this rambling nonsense.  Thanks for reading.  Send comments.

Cathartic Cleaning

/ esteban

“I am not a hoarder!” he says, trying to be convincing.    Today is a big day for me.  I finally got rid of my old, still functioning, TRS-80 Model III computer.  I still remember the day in 1981 when I plunked down $999 at the Radio Shack store in Hobbs, New Mexico.  The beginning of almost 30 years of computing which has taken me around the world and back home again.

My friend Mark first showed me what a TRS-80 could do when we were freshman in the dorms at Oklahoma State. I’ve been hooked ever since.  Through the days of green screen monitors, 300 baud modems, dot matrix printers, arthritis causing keyboards, buggy software, computer viruses, Compuserve, AOL, MS-DOS, …    (For the record, I’m a Mac guy now, so most of those problems have gone away.  Ha!)

That Model III was a great machine for its time.  I even managed to write my master’s degree thesis on it.  Mind you, this was long before MS Office existed, but it still passed the scrutiny of the “ruler lady” in the Graduate College office who judged the formatting of my finished thesis.

So why am I now parting with this piece of Esteban-lore?  Because it is Lent.

Usually, during Lent, I try to do something penitential, such as giving up meat or caffeine, as a small reminder of Christ’s passion.  This year, I decided that I wanted to do something different.  Something more liberating, more freeing.

I am reminded of the man in the Gospel of Mark who asks Jesus about how to inherit eternal life. The Lord tells him to sell his possessions, give to the poor, and follow Him.  The man went away sad because he had many possessions.

I’m really not a hoarder, but I tend to hang on to things much longer than I need to.  I have been “planning” a garage sale for about 10 years but never got around to it.  I have the habit of keeping things for that “someday when I might need it.”

So, for this Lent, enough is enough.  I’m parting with many of the things that I’ve been carrying around like extra baggage.  Parting with my trusty old Model III, by donating it to Goodwill for recycling, was a first step that will make further donations easier.  It was a bit of personal history that was really meaningless in the big scheme of things.

It’s been rather cathartic, a cleansing of my physical estate, a prelude to the cleansing of my spiritual estate that will come during the remainder of Lent and the confession and solemnity of Holy Week, yet to come.

Join me!

"I'm aware of my tongue!!"

/ esteban / 1 Comment

Peanuts

(Peanuts free online comic strip library at comics.com)

Peanuts has always been one of my favorite comic strips.  I don’t remember when I first saw this particular strip (first published in 1963), but just like Linus’ tongue, this one has stuck with me for many years.

I think I’m a little bit OCD and trying to tell me not to think of something is only going to make me think of it more.

My friend BK and I used to play the pink elephant game.  He would always get mad at me whenever I would come up to him and say “Pink elephant!!” because you cannot hear the words without actually thinking of a pink elephant.  OK, it’s a rather stupid game, but I’m sure you thought of one just now.

Go ahead, admit it!

Just don’t leave this post thinking of your tongue.  It will dwive you cwazy.

Chili

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I think I make a pretty good pot of chili.  Others seem to like it too, so I thought this was as good a place as any to post my recipe.
So for you, dear reader, and posterity, here it is.

Get this stuff:

  • 2 lbs of lean, ground beef
  • 2 can of Ranch Style beans (un-drained)
  • 1 can of black beans (drained)
  • 1 can of pinto beans (drained)
  • 1 can of Rotel tomatoes with green chilies
  • 2 cans of tomato soup (concentrate)
  • 1/2 cup of diced green pepper (red or yellow peppers are good too)
  • 1/2 cup of diced onion
  • 4 tbls of chili powder
  • 1/4 tsp of red pepper powder
  • 1/4 tsp of cumin
  • 1/2 tsp of black pepper
  • 1/2 tsp of salt
  • Worcestershire sauce

Do this:

1.  Brown the beef in a skillet.  Add a few dashes of Worcestershire sauce, to taste.  Drain the meat well and add to a large pot.

2. Add all the other ingredients, draining all the beans except the Ranch Style beans.

3.  Mix well and simmer over medium heat.  Do not overcook!

I prefer to use a pot on the stove top rather than a crock pot.  I prefer my chili with less liquid in it.
I also like to prepare it a day or two in advance to let the flavor of the spices permeate.

For a little more of a kick, add more red pepper.  I often add some garlic powder as well.

Chili Out!

So, go forth and chili out.  If you try this recipe, let me know what you think.

I Miss Pencils

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I’m having a weird sense of nostalgia for pencils.  I used the phrase “pencil you in” in a recent email and it struck me that we don’t really do that any more.  We might tentatively type someone’s name into a list, but there’s no convenient way of giving it that same sense of changeability vs permanence.

When I graduated from high school, one of my teachers gave me an address book.  She told me that I was going to be meeting all sorts of new and interesting people (boy was she right!) and I would need a way of keeping track of their phone numbers and addresses.  This was before we all had computers and cell phones for that purpose.

I remember her caution about using ink in my address book.  She told me that people will move at least 8 times before they are 30 yrs old and it wouldn’t make sense to put their information down in ink since it would soon be outdated.  “Just pencil them in until you know they are settled for awhile.”

Funny thing about pencils, they make a better weapon than writing utensil.  I still have a black mark on the back of my right hand where I stabbed myself with a very sharp pencil.  I remember it clearly.  I had it sticking, point up, in the back pocket of my jeans during high school marching band practice in 1978.  I brought my hand down onto the point when I was being careless and I effectively tattooed myself.  It takes me back to that day every time I see it.  I guess that pencil did have some permanence!

Now, I pretty much only use a pencil when a pen isn’t handy.  Most information is now typed, like this blog, and there’s no indication of how permanent or temporary any particular word or sentence is.

Yeah, my mind travels to weird places sometimes.  I’m too pen-sive I guess.

Dungarees

/ esteban

OK, this is totally random.  I heard the word “dungaree” on television and I thought I would look up an official definition.

I was very surprised to find a wikipedia aritcle that lists 5 totally unrelated and unexpected definitions for the word.  I’m amazed at the strange twists and turns that a word takes.  “South Western European Pickle” is my favorite definition.

Check the article here.

Reefer Madness -or- How to tie your shoes

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When I saw this video, I knew I would have to blog about it.  My last couple of entries have been rather serious in tone, so I thought something lighter was in order.

One of the most endearing memories I have of my dad is his teaching me how to tie my shoes.  I was in kindergarten and needed to be able to show Sr. Stephana I could tie my own shoes and thus earn the coveted gold star on my report card.

It seems that I tie my shoes backwards from my dad.  I clearly remember him sitting in front of me and showing me his tying technique.  I apparently mimicked him perfectly but in mirror image.  Nonetheless, it has been working for me all these years.

After watching this video though, I was a little bit paranoid about my shoe tying ability.  Was I a granny or a reefer?

I am happy and relieved to announce that I’m a reefer and shall continue to have tight shoe knots.

VENI, Creator Spiritus

/ esteban

Last night I was reminded why I love working with college students so much.  I attended part of the TEC (Together Encounter Christ) retreat being offered by my diocese this weekend.  After participating in some of the festivities offered for the greater TEC community, I attended a reflection given by one of the student leaders.  I am so thankful for every moment I get to spend with these kids.

This particular reflection was given by a young woman gave a deeply personal and honest reflection on her struggles with weight and self-esteem, diagnoses of depression and eating disorders, abuse of medications and harmful behaviors.  She also spoke eloquently and with humor about her struggles to know and understand her relationship with God.

And she spoke about peace.

Peace in the acceptance of things she can’t change (echoes of the Desiderata), peace in the knowing that life is a journey of hardships, of learning and re-learning, and peace in the support of friends and family.

There is such wisdom in such a young person who is facing her battles and seeing the face of God in those around her and accepting what they can give in the knowing.  An understanding of the Christian journey and the hand of the Holy Spirit as companion.

VENI, Creator Spiritus,
mentes tuorum visita,
imple superna gratia
quae tu creasti pectora.

COME, Holy Spirit, Creator blest,
and in our souls take up Thy rest;
come with Thy grace and heavenly aid
to fill the hearts which Thou hast made.

Haiti: "I hear voices …"

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The first time I really saw the face of poverty was in Guatemala, in March 2000.  That was my first trip to a country described as “Third World.”  That whole trip was filled with sensory overload, a constant bombardment of sights, sounds, smells, languages, colors and cultures.

It was also the first time that I truly saw someone who had nothing.  Not the “nothing” that most Americans think of, but truly nothing.  Even in a land that is extremely poor, many people have some family or community that provides at least some context or even commiseration in their lives.

This person was a woman asleep in the doorway of a shuttered shop in Santiago Atitlan, Guatemala.  We passed her in the street as we returned to the Catholic mission after a day of house building.  Dressed in rags, barefoot, emaciated and ignored by all around her, that image, forlorn and yet fleeting, pierced my soul.

The silent desperation called out for some recognition of dignity.

Her rags were the remnants of her traditional Mayan garb, which most of the Tzutujil (the Mayan “tribe” of the town) still wear.  She obviously had a history of a better life and a society that supported her.  Now it seems, they were unable to do any more to help her.  I’ve often wondered what became of her and it is she that I think of whenever I’m called to reflect on the poor.

I felt an enormous culture shock.  Strong while I was in Guatemala, but almost overwhelming when I returned to the U.S.  “Welcome back to the real world!” people would say upon our return.  Real world?!?  We Americans live in a fantasy world.  For most of us, the problems we face on a daily basis are petty and insignificant in comparison to the rest of the world.  We overindulge and overuse almost everything around us and we have the gall to complain.

Although the culture shock abated little by little after each subsequent trip abroad, I can still conjure up the feelings that I felt back then.  I try to hold on to them and try to keep a perspective of them whenever I’m tempted to complain about my life, the problems that I face, and the “hardships” that I try to avoid.

The images out of Haiti following the January 12, 2010 earthquake shock me.  A nation that was already the “poorest of the poor” has been dealt a blow unlike any it has had to face in more than 200 years.  The devastation and destruction are horrible.  The death and injury is incomprehensible.  The enormity of the task facing those trying to help seems impossible.  (I wonder how this compares to the tsunami that hit SE Asia …)

It’s barely been 72 hours since the earthquake and I know that the worst is yet to come.  There are at least 3 million people that need to be fed, housed and cared for.  For many of them, their suffering has just begun and it will be very difficult if not impossible for them to receive the help they need.

Dire predictions of starvation, famine, disease, civil strife and crime seem only too likely to come true.

So, I’ve given money (not enough) and I pray.  I try to set aside the petty problems I face and I think of a woman in Guatemala who for me is the face of poverty.  Joined now by countless other faces in Haiti.

I wonder why this disaster has grabbed my heart.  I think it’s the images from the news reports and people calling out, “I hear voices trapped in the rubble.”

My Life as Sisyphus

/ esteban
Sisyphus

Sisyphus

“Sisyphus?” you ask.  Yep. Sisyphus.  It’s kind of fun to say isn’t it?

So Sisyphus was a bad guy in Greek mythology and Zeus condemned him to roll a huge boulder up a hill, only to watch it roll back down, and to repeat this throughout eternity.  An existence of utter frustration.

My life has kind of felt like that for the past 1 year + 1 day, since the day I was laid off from my beloved job as a campus minister and I found myself face to face with the most uncertain of futures.  The first time in my adult life where I didn’t know what the next move was.

But in all things, God’s grace has been my companion.  Yep, I’m sure of that.

  • For all the times that I’ve felt sorry for myself, there’s been a friend to kick me in the butt and tell me to get over myself. (I believe the term used was “Mr. Crabby Pants,” which I still find rather endearing!)
  • For all the dashed hopes of finding the right next job, there’s always been the new hope of another opportunity.
  • For all the times of loneliness and fear, there’s been an encouraging email, an invitation to lunch, or just a friendly hello.

I could go on, but you get it.  I know there are lessons to learn in all this and one day I hope that I can put it all into proper perspective.

So tomorrow on 1year + 2days, I’ll still get out of bed, I’ll still look for that next opportunity, and I’ll follow wherever that hope which comes from God’s grace leads me.  I kind of hope that it’s the road less traveled.  I guess I’ll just have to wait and see.

One day, I’ll get that rock to the top of the hill and it will stay.

Genesis

/ esteban

Just like everyone sitting down to write the first post in a new blog, I’m thinking about what a commitment this could be.

And probably like you, I’ve have many previous false starts when it comes to journaling of any kind. What usually happens is that my entries eventually devolve into some variation of whining and feeling sorry for myself, the reading of which will leave us all disappointed.

So, I hereby pledge that I’m only going to write when I feel like it’s really something that I would want to reread myself later.

Beginning now.