Well, we're now at T minus 27 days and counting before lift off for Uganda. Over the past month I have played the role of "pin cushion", having some demented little guy jabbing me with needle after needle after needle. Hepatitis A & B, Tetanus, Meningitis, Yellow Fever, Typhoid, and at least one other that escapes me right now. And the Hepatitis involved two additional visits to get poked again. I was starting to feel like a dart board. This morning I get to go visit a doc to get a prescription for Malarone - anti-malarial meds. I think that's the end of THAT part of this adventure.
Psychologically, I'll be honest - it's been a battle. The description I gave a few months ago about the argument between my heart and my head? Well, it wasn't like that was the end of it - the heart won and everyone lived happily ever after. My head has kept up a relentless drumbeat, and I still find that battle raging on occasion. The head at least realizes now, however, that it is losing. It's just not happy about it!
I have been informed that I will be the the official "blog writer" while we're over there. As soon as I get the site address I'll post it in here. Any grammatical mistakes in there, however, will be my responsibility and my responsibility only!
But I am getting excited. I am looking forward to this adventure. And I really, truly appreciate the support - financial and prayer - that I have received from people to date. I thank you very, very much.
May 20, 2009
May 6, 2009
On Romance
It would seem that my son recently initiated a debate on Facebook stemming from a discussion from a class at SPU. The topic was Romanticism vs. Post-romanticism. You can view his thoughts on his blog at:
http://seraphmessenger.blogspot.com/
I wanted to add a couple of thoughts to it. His post shows him to be a hopeless romantic. While I won't claim to have instilled this in him, I have to say that I find it very enlightening and encouraging that he feels this way. You see, I have to come out of the closet as well - his Dad is a hopeless romantic, too.
I told him today that the day that he lets go of his romantic tendencies is the day that he should apply for his credentials as a zombie. I know that romance is an integral part of who I am. The joy I feel in the romantic moments with my wife are ephemeral. Maybe I'm confusing it with the overarching concept of love, but I also have "romantic" feelings towards my children. There are times when I just enjoy doing things for all of them, moments when I find it completely gratifying to let them know how much they mean to me.
Romance to me is a need, a compulsion, to let my loved ones know how much they mean to me. It is a never ending need because I'm never able to fully express it - I never have the perfectly right words, the perfectly right deeds. And yet I am compelled to continue in the effort. In ways I liken it to worship - the compulsion to communicate to God how much his love, his grace means to me. I don't have the ability to fully express that either, but it doesn't stop me from trying. Romance makes me alive!
Without romance there is no hope. Life devolves into blatant cynicism. It becomes a dark, empty existence. With romance there is joy, there is love, there is a reason for living. No, the object of our romance does not always respond to the overtures, but we should never let go of the desire to express it. To do so would be an abject surrender to a darker existence.
So at the expense of blatant plagiarism, here is the familiar poem from Elizabeth Barrett Browning:
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of everyday's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love thee with a passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints, --- I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life! --- and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.
http://seraphmessenger.blogspot.com/
I wanted to add a couple of thoughts to it. His post shows him to be a hopeless romantic. While I won't claim to have instilled this in him, I have to say that I find it very enlightening and encouraging that he feels this way. You see, I have to come out of the closet as well - his Dad is a hopeless romantic, too.
I told him today that the day that he lets go of his romantic tendencies is the day that he should apply for his credentials as a zombie. I know that romance is an integral part of who I am. The joy I feel in the romantic moments with my wife are ephemeral. Maybe I'm confusing it with the overarching concept of love, but I also have "romantic" feelings towards my children. There are times when I just enjoy doing things for all of them, moments when I find it completely gratifying to let them know how much they mean to me.
Romance to me is a need, a compulsion, to let my loved ones know how much they mean to me. It is a never ending need because I'm never able to fully express it - I never have the perfectly right words, the perfectly right deeds. And yet I am compelled to continue in the effort. In ways I liken it to worship - the compulsion to communicate to God how much his love, his grace means to me. I don't have the ability to fully express that either, but it doesn't stop me from trying. Romance makes me alive!
Without romance there is no hope. Life devolves into blatant cynicism. It becomes a dark, empty existence. With romance there is joy, there is love, there is a reason for living. No, the object of our romance does not always respond to the overtures, but we should never let go of the desire to express it. To do so would be an abject surrender to a darker existence.
So at the expense of blatant plagiarism, here is the familiar poem from Elizabeth Barrett Browning:
How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.
I love thee to the level of everyday's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;
I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.
I love thee with a passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints, --- I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life! --- and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.
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