Dear Friend of the Past,
Tonight I would say, never mind what I told you last night.
I just heard the news - congrats on your engagement.
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
Monday, October 22, 2007
Tonight I Would Tell You
Dear Friend of the Past,
Tonight I would tell you that I heard Nick speak last night. I would tell you that his talk changed my perspective, or shall I say my frustration with why God only heals some of the time. I would tell you that I'm glad you had the opportunity to meet him on your way to the airport.
Tonight I would tell you that I picked up the latest Jimmy Eat World CD. I would thank you for introducing me to their music and I would ask, "Are they still your favorite band?"
Tonight I would tell you about Megan's dream job. And I would ask, "Can you help her get it?" because I know you know the right people.
Tonight I would tell you that I remembered today the time we were supposed to meet up the beach, but our plans were thwarted by the rain.
Tonight I would tell you the brilliant song lyric that I came up with. "Words may slip. And so might I. I slip your hand into mine." And I would offer it to you because you're the better song writer.
Tonight I would tell you, I'm glad we're friends again.
Tonight, well, tonight would never happen.
Tonight I would tell you that I heard Nick speak last night. I would tell you that his talk changed my perspective, or shall I say my frustration with why God only heals some of the time. I would tell you that I'm glad you had the opportunity to meet him on your way to the airport.
Tonight I would tell you that I picked up the latest Jimmy Eat World CD. I would thank you for introducing me to their music and I would ask, "Are they still your favorite band?"
Tonight I would tell you about Megan's dream job. And I would ask, "Can you help her get it?" because I know you know the right people.
Tonight I would tell you that I remembered today the time we were supposed to meet up the beach, but our plans were thwarted by the rain.
Tonight I would tell you the brilliant song lyric that I came up with. "Words may slip. And so might I. I slip your hand into mine." And I would offer it to you because you're the better song writer.
Tonight I would tell you, I'm glad we're friends again.
Tonight, well, tonight would never happen.
Saturday, October 20, 2007
The Best of Text Messages Still in my Phone
April 4, 2007 Fr: Mike Duff
On the plane right now. Call you in awhile.
Um… isn’t your cell phone supposed to be turned off?
December 29, 2006 Fr: David Douglas
Did mike give you a reply? He is being evasive and putting all the decision making on me.
Um… who uses the word “evasive” in a text message?
October 3, 2007 Fr: Lauren Pollard
I love you more than albino squirrels
Um… thanks? Actually there are albino squirrels in Minneapolis; I saw one in my sister’s neighborhood.
July 15, 2007 Fr: Shannen Norman
Sooo…I served phil wickham tonite, yup its true
Um…that’s just cool.
December 21, 2006 From David Douglas
I think I have just the guy for you…
Um… okay. Could you ship him Fed Ex from New York to LA?
September 2, 2007 Fr: Cindy Steiger
I had a dream that you were pregnant – do you need to tell me something?
Um… no sex here. Unless the Holy Spirit is working over-time in my life, I think I’m in the clear.
June 22, 2007 Fr: Laura Paulus
Sorry if I am waking you up but wanted to share that Sarah just asked Jesus into her heart. We have been talking about it for several days and she prayed.
Um… Laura’s 5 year old daughter prayed the prayer, but her 3 year old daughter thought it would hurt too much to have Jesus come and live inside of her.
On the plane right now. Call you in awhile.
Um… isn’t your cell phone supposed to be turned off?
December 29, 2006 Fr: David Douglas
Did mike give you a reply? He is being evasive and putting all the decision making on me.
Um… who uses the word “evasive” in a text message?
October 3, 2007 Fr: Lauren Pollard
I love you more than albino squirrels
Um… thanks? Actually there are albino squirrels in Minneapolis; I saw one in my sister’s neighborhood.
July 15, 2007 Fr: Shannen Norman
Sooo…I served phil wickham tonite, yup its true
Um…that’s just cool.
December 21, 2006 From David Douglas
I think I have just the guy for you…
Um… okay. Could you ship him Fed Ex from New York to LA?
September 2, 2007 Fr: Cindy Steiger
I had a dream that you were pregnant – do you need to tell me something?
Um… no sex here. Unless the Holy Spirit is working over-time in my life, I think I’m in the clear.
June 22, 2007 Fr: Laura Paulus
Sorry if I am waking you up but wanted to share that Sarah just asked Jesus into her heart. We have been talking about it for several days and she prayed.
Um… Laura’s 5 year old daughter prayed the prayer, but her 3 year old daughter thought it would hurt too much to have Jesus come and live inside of her.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Slower Than Slow
The thought occurred to me tonight that I won’t be able to do it – that I won’t be able to finish this book that I keep talking about and that people keep telling me they can’t wait to read.
A different someone asks me every day how the book is coming along. My response is always the same: slow. Is there a word for slower than slow?
My job is not conducive to being a writer. And my seminary work doesn’t help. I’m envious of Rick Warren who was able to set aside 7 months to simply write. No wonder his book was a best seller.
I guess I’m a bit discouraged, because I really was almost finished. But then I had to go and change directions in my writing and any brilliant work that I had accomplished was thrown to the wayside.
I’m feeling a bit uninspired. Maybe I need better background music and picking up the newest CDs by Phil Wickham, Jimmy Eat World, and Dashboard Confessional is the answer.
Or maybe I need a different scented candle to burn.
Erwin McManus tells me that there is no such thing as writer’s block. So why do I have it?
Don’t worry, I’ll finish the book.
Determination, perseverance, and commitment are a part of who I am.
I wouldn't leave you all hanging.
A different someone asks me every day how the book is coming along. My response is always the same: slow. Is there a word for slower than slow?
My job is not conducive to being a writer. And my seminary work doesn’t help. I’m envious of Rick Warren who was able to set aside 7 months to simply write. No wonder his book was a best seller.
I guess I’m a bit discouraged, because I really was almost finished. But then I had to go and change directions in my writing and any brilliant work that I had accomplished was thrown to the wayside.
I’m feeling a bit uninspired. Maybe I need better background music and picking up the newest CDs by Phil Wickham, Jimmy Eat World, and Dashboard Confessional is the answer.
Or maybe I need a different scented candle to burn.
Erwin McManus tells me that there is no such thing as writer’s block. So why do I have it?
Don’t worry, I’ll finish the book.
Determination, perseverance, and commitment are a part of who I am.
I wouldn't leave you all hanging.
Sunday, September 23, 2007
Hit On at In-N-Out
For those of you unfamiliar with In-N-Out most have two drive-thru lanes to choose from. Tonight I wrongly chose the lane on the right and was accosted by a customer on the left.
“Welcome to In-N-Out. Can I take your order?”
“Um. . .” Do I want regular fries or animal fries?
“I’ll just have an order fries.” Decision made.
“Is that all?” Hmm… I could still switch to animal fries.
No… I just need something to drink, but I already had 2 Diet Cokes today…
“Could I also get a glass of water?”
“Sure.”
I smiled at the speaker because my scant order seemed a bit ridiculous.
A guy in the passenger’s seat of a truck in the neighboring lane smiled back at me.
Uh oh.
“1 order of fries and 1 glass of water. That will be $1.28.”
“Is that really all you’re going to get?”
So truck man wants to talk.“Yeah. I’m not super hungry.” It was a late night snack – not dinner.
“So where are you headed from here?”
“Back to CBU.”
“Do you go there?”
“Kind of.”
I work there, but he doesn’t need to know that.
“Oh, well I live in the apartments right next to campus.”
“Huh. That’s cool.”
Why is this guy talking to me? And why is my car window still unrolled?
Oh good. His truck is moving up. Roll up the window – quick.
And don’t look back over in his direction.
Okay… $1.28. I have a lot a pennies; maybe I can get rid of some.
1…2 ….3… 24…25
KNOCK KNOCK
I jumped.
Are you serious? I can’t believe this guy is actually standing outside of my car.
I politely unroll my window and am doused with the smell of pot.
“Are you single?”
“Yes. But I wouldn’t say that I’m available.”
I’m definitely not available to date you. Call me picky, but I’m just not into scraggly, 21 year old pot heads, but I suppose I should give him some sort of explanation.
“I’m working on publishing a book and I think I’ll be able to market it better being single.”
“So I would be roadblock for you?”
“Yeah… I guess.”
“Well, have a good night.”
“You too.”
He returned to his truck and I returned to my pennies, feeling somewhat guilty for not introducing myself. And I could have been nicer. And… no I won’t feel bad… he was sketchy.
“Hit On” Evangelism is just too tricky.
“Welcome to In-N-Out. Can I take your order?”
“Um. . .” Do I want regular fries or animal fries?
“I’ll just have an order fries.” Decision made.
“Is that all?” Hmm… I could still switch to animal fries.
No… I just need something to drink, but I already had 2 Diet Cokes today…
“Could I also get a glass of water?”
“Sure.”
I smiled at the speaker because my scant order seemed a bit ridiculous.
A guy in the passenger’s seat of a truck in the neighboring lane smiled back at me.
Uh oh.
“1 order of fries and 1 glass of water. That will be $1.28.”
“Is that really all you’re going to get?”
So truck man wants to talk.“Yeah. I’m not super hungry.” It was a late night snack – not dinner.
“So where are you headed from here?”
“Back to CBU.”
“Do you go there?”
“Kind of.”
I work there, but he doesn’t need to know that.
“Oh, well I live in the apartments right next to campus.”
“Huh. That’s cool.”
Why is this guy talking to me? And why is my car window still unrolled?
Oh good. His truck is moving up. Roll up the window – quick.
And don’t look back over in his direction.
Okay… $1.28. I have a lot a pennies; maybe I can get rid of some.
1…2 ….3… 24…25
KNOCK KNOCK
I jumped.
Are you serious? I can’t believe this guy is actually standing outside of my car.
I politely unroll my window and am doused with the smell of pot.
“Are you single?”
“Yes. But I wouldn’t say that I’m available.”
I’m definitely not available to date you. Call me picky, but I’m just not into scraggly, 21 year old pot heads, but I suppose I should give him some sort of explanation.
“I’m working on publishing a book and I think I’ll be able to market it better being single.”
“So I would be roadblock for you?”
“Yeah… I guess.”
“Well, have a good night.”
“You too.”
He returned to his truck and I returned to my pennies, feeling somewhat guilty for not introducing myself. And I could have been nicer. And… no I won’t feel bad… he was sketchy.
“Hit On” Evangelism is just too tricky.
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Dream Job on the 93rd Floor
Her name was Meredith and she longed for a Titanic romance – not one involving a tragic death, but rather one in which she would meet a handsome, young man on cruise ship. She lived down the hall and was hard to love at times, but we loved her anyways. We’d invite her to Bible study and to other Christian events happening on campus, but she always used the excuse that she needed to study. Michigan’s Business School was ranked #1 in the nation and she wanted to be certain to get in.
Every once in a while Meredith and I would talk about spiritual things. She told me that she’d like to read the Bible and explore Christianity a bit, but it wouldn’t be anytime soon. She didn’t have the time; she needed to focus on her studies so that she could get into the Business School. She dreamed of a high paying job and vacations on cruise ships.
Meredith made it into the Business School and even before receiving her diploma she was offered her dream job. After graduation she moved to New York to settle into her office on the 93rd floor. She booked her cruise for the month of September, but she never got to go on it; she never got to meet her Prince Charming. Because Meredith’s dream job was on the 93rd floor of the North Tower of the World Trade Center.
I don’t know where Meredith stood with God when the Towers crumbled to the ground. And I don’t know where each of you reading this stands with God. But I do know that our time “here” is limited. You’ll always have your reasons to brush God to the side, but those reasons won’t help you on your departing day.
Do you know Jesus?
Have you been brushing God to the side?
How are you doing in loving the people around you?
If you would like to talk more about this particular post, please don’t hesitate to contact me. I would love to dialogue further with you. This post is written in memory of Meredith Whalen.
Every once in a while Meredith and I would talk about spiritual things. She told me that she’d like to read the Bible and explore Christianity a bit, but it wouldn’t be anytime soon. She didn’t have the time; she needed to focus on her studies so that she could get into the Business School. She dreamed of a high paying job and vacations on cruise ships.
Meredith made it into the Business School and even before receiving her diploma she was offered her dream job. After graduation she moved to New York to settle into her office on the 93rd floor. She booked her cruise for the month of September, but she never got to go on it; she never got to meet her Prince Charming. Because Meredith’s dream job was on the 93rd floor of the North Tower of the World Trade Center.
I don’t know where Meredith stood with God when the Towers crumbled to the ground. And I don’t know where each of you reading this stands with God. But I do know that our time “here” is limited. You’ll always have your reasons to brush God to the side, but those reasons won’t help you on your departing day.
Do you know Jesus?
Have you been brushing God to the side?
How are you doing in loving the people around you?
If you would like to talk more about this particular post, please don’t hesitate to contact me. I would love to dialogue further with you. This post is written in memory of Meredith Whalen.
Monday, August 20, 2007
A Confused Identity
* Please see June 30th's post for background information on this post.
Sunday, January 18, 2004
A Confused Identity
Pen names, a stage name, an alias, all conceal the identitiy of what is real. Hidden behind another name, preconceived notions and misconceptions are laid aside. Finally, freedom is obtained to be anything because nothing is expected. One becomes new, untainted by the past. For the past has faded away and only freshness remains.
Samuel Langhorne Clemons is my hero for he understands my position. I like the brilliancy of writing to write rather than writing to be someone or something in someone's mind. For when one reads and knows not the person behind the words, it is only the words that are heard. And words want to speak without being judged. But eventually the pseudonym becomes someone and a warped reality prevails leaving the truth behind. Is it Samuel Langhorne Clemons or is it Mark Twain? And if he is Mark Twain, then who am I? Goodbye Modesty Blogspot
~Katrina Marie Blank
touche, it is not the writer but the writings that matter here, but if an alias is needed than so be it, for we all enjoyed what you had to say. [estaban}
***********************************
"why not go back to paris and find her?"
"it couldn't work out. . ."
why stephen, correct me if i'm wrong, but i do believe an intellectual decision has been made and with that decision i welcome you to the choice cult. ~ marie
touche marie, i have been outwitted yet once again - stephen
Sunday, January 18, 2004
A Confused Identity
Pen names, a stage name, an alias, all conceal the identitiy of what is real. Hidden behind another name, preconceived notions and misconceptions are laid aside. Finally, freedom is obtained to be anything because nothing is expected. One becomes new, untainted by the past. For the past has faded away and only freshness remains.
Samuel Langhorne Clemons is my hero for he understands my position. I like the brilliancy of writing to write rather than writing to be someone or something in someone's mind. For when one reads and knows not the person behind the words, it is only the words that are heard. And words want to speak without being judged. But eventually the pseudonym becomes someone and a warped reality prevails leaving the truth behind. Is it Samuel Langhorne Clemons or is it Mark Twain? And if he is Mark Twain, then who am I? Goodbye Modesty Blogspot
~Katrina Marie Blank
touche, it is not the writer but the writings that matter here, but if an alias is needed than so be it, for we all enjoyed what you had to say. [estaban}
***********************************
"why not go back to paris and find her?"
"it couldn't work out. . ."
why stephen, correct me if i'm wrong, but i do believe an intellectual decision has been made and with that decision i welcome you to the choice cult. ~ marie
touche marie, i have been outwitted yet once again - stephen
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