how sucky is singleness?

Larry and I are flying to Philadelphia this weekend to speak at a seminar being held at liberti church. The original seminar was titled, "how sucky is singleness, how magical is marriage?" They didn't get much interest. In fact they got some protest. So they retitled it, "Table For One: Singleness in the Bible." Or something like that. Larry and I are going to tell our story Friday night, and Saturday they'll have a panel of experts to talk about the theological perspective of singleness and marriage.

Ever notice there's no such thing as dating in the bible? The Bible does talk about widows, but not about swinging bachelors and bachelorettes. My guess is, the George Clooneys and Kim Cattrals of the Bible ended up like the people on the left. But that's just my opinion.

If you're near Philly and you want to come, check out this link.

Overwhelm

Got notes back from my editor. A couple sweeping-issue notes. I'm totally up for doing it. But the book's got to be in final draft in three weeks. THREE WEEKS!
I had a nervous breakdown over it this morning with Larry. "If the book goes to the printer in three weeks it'll all be a waste of time. I'm going to fail."
Larry tried to comforted me. "In time, you'll have a different perspective."
(Poor Larry, what could he say that I wouldn't misinterpret?)
"Like one day the failure won't feel so... failuresque?"
"Well all you can do is what's in front of you."
"I've got to rewrite the first three chapters by Monday."
"And what needs to happen in those first three chapters?" He sounded rhetorical, like it was some famous Aristotelian question every writer knew.
"What Needs To Happen In The First Three Chapters?"

"They need to be different." I ran off to my room to cry.

Not long afterward our friends called. They're both book editors. Heather gushed, "your manuscript is great. This book is going to be great. It's a book people will talk about. Yes there are issues, but you can fix them. Don't despair." Until I told them about the three weeks. THREE WEEKS? Well, three weeks are coming whether I like it or not. So here we go..

Meanwhile, I listened to Mark Heard "Tip of My Tongue" is a rockin-out song but the lyrics are kinda brilliant.

There's an oasis in the heat of the day
There's a fire in the chill of night
A turnabout in circumstance makes each a hell in its own right

I've been boxed-in in the lowlands, in the canyons that think
I've been pushed to the brink of the precipice and dared not to blink
I've been confounded in the whirlwind of what-ifs and dreams
I've been burned by the turning of the wind back upon my own flames

Knock the scales from my eyes, knock the words from my lungs
I want to cry out, it's on the tip of my tongue!

I've seen through the walls of this kingdom of dust,
Felt the crucial revelation
But the broad streets of the heart and the day-to-day meet at a blind intersection.

I don't want to be lonely, I don't want to feel pain
I don't want to draw straws with the sons of Cain
You can take it as a prayer if you'll remember my name
You can take it as the penance of a profane saint

Knock the scales from my eyes, knock the words from my lungs
I want to cry out, it's on the tip of my tongue

There's an oasis in the heat of the day.
There's fire in the chill of night
And when I know them both, I'll know your love - I will feel it in the twilight

As circumstance comes crashing through my walls like a train
Or like a chorus from the mountains of the ocean floor
Like the wind-burst of birdwings taking flight in a hard rain
Or like a mad dog on the far side of Dante's Door

Knock the scales from my eyes! Knock the words from my lungs
I want to cry out, it's on the tip of my tongue!

Anne Lamott said just to do it, bird by bird.

Off to write. It's on the tip of my tongue.

Another hurdle, the race keeps running

I passed a second hurdle on my book. I turned in the revision on Monday. There were some significant changes, I had to add new material at the end of every chapter. From here my editor will look it over, give me ediorial comments on the new and old stuff ... so it's not in final draft. I'm not sure when that happens, since the book is coming out in March 2009. That's only 11 months away.

I've caught up on a few DVDs and am reacquainting myself with the American institution called "filing one's taxes.''

"Who Killed The Electric Car:" good film, hard to watch. You'll get angry. Well, that and the fact that the oil companies are making huuuuge profits.
"Arsenic And Old Lace" dated but funny
"Death At A Funeral" A slapstick farce. A nasty poo joke and it takes a while to get going but the payoff is funny.

Also recommend: Fresh Air, the NPR program hosted by Terrie Gross. If you have a computer you can subscribe via iTunes for free. She interviewed a guy on the state of the American Economy and the tangled web of home foreclosures. Credit card and student loans are next.

I think I'm taking my savings and investing in India...

Great Cats

With all the stress of my book deadline I needed some laughs. Check out the pics on Stuff On My Cat or I Can Has Cheezburger. Here are a few of my favorites ...

weight of the world

As I near my next revision deadline I am becoming less and less social, active, less able to write anything except my book. But it's been a week of blows and I had to write. Good blows and bad. Our friend the Rooneys went to Ethiopia to collect their son, their lovely new son, Abenezer Rooney. Another blow: I had another birthday, and the number just sent me over the hump toward another milestone, toward wisdom and experience and crap. Old age.

And there have been a rash of shooting deaths. Mostly gang related, but also just human nature falling apart related. Tonight as I drove home from the library, right at the bottom of our hill were ten cop cars, police tape, and a big detour around the block.

A couple weeks ago a high school football star with college aspirations was gunned down forty yards from his home. Jamiel Shaw's story made it into the papers. I read it and wept. There's just nothing good about this. What good can come of it? And today I read a headline about an 11 year old boy killed by gang gunfire. And some other guy chopped up his brother's basset hound.

I can't bring myself to think of that poor creature. But they're all poor creatures. Our home group is studying N.T. Wright's book, Simply Christian. Wright argues that all religions and cultures show the fact that we all long for justice, spirituality, relationship and beauty. Wright then examines how Christianity makes the most sense of those longings, what God intends to do with them. Wright believes that God's plan for redeeming and rehabilitating the world came to full fruition in Jesus Christ. And now we (should be) bringing God's redemption to all parts of the world by restoring justice, spirituality, relationship and beauty.

To which I reply, "We have seriously dropped the ball, of late."

Wright doesn't believe that the chief end of man is to "get to heaven when we die." Maybe it's a rest stop, but our ultimate destination is back here, to redeem THIS place, because this is where we're going to be for forever.

I have assumed that after death I'll go to be with Jesus in some other place or at least, dimension. But what if we end up back here? Well then, trashing this place or its people, isn't an option.

It kind of makes it my responsibility to be working on redemption now. It kind of makes it my responsibility to join that mentoring program for would be teen writers. Or recycling. Or sending money to Africa to start wells. Or stop being an ass when I drive (That was my Lenten sacrifice and I'm doing pretty well, PTL)

Still, I'm not sure what to do with the cop cars at the bottom of the hill or Jamiel or that basset hound. Except pray they are at the way station, resting up and waiting for the time to return.

"It may be possible for each to think too much of his own potential glory hereafter; it is hardly possible for him to think too often or too deeply about that of his neighbor. The load, or weight, of burden of my neighbor's glory should be laid on my back, a load so heavy that only humility can carry it, and the backs of the proud will be broken."It is a serious thing... to remember that the dullest and most uninteresting person you can talk to may one day be a creature which, if you could see it now, you would be strongly tempted to worship, or else a horror and a corruption such as you now meet, if at all, only in a nightmare. "There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. It is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub, and exploit--immortal horrors or everlasting splendors. "All day long we are, in some degree, helping each other to one or the other of these destinations." CS Lewis, The Weight of Glory

A Rooney Of Their Own

Our house owners, Ted and Lori, applied to adopt a baby from Ethiopia. It's been a year-long process, from starting paperwork, passing screenings, getting approved by "Gladney," the adoption agency in the States, then by the orphanage, then waiting for a child referred to them. They 'met' their referral baby via pictures in December. Lori had started a blog back in May chronicling the whole journey.

The day came in the Ethiopian court. Gladney has a great reputation and never had any problems with adoptions. But this time the judge didn't trust the paperwork. Adoption Denied. That was January 4. Ted and Lori were crushed. But the attorney who works for the orphanage launched a vigorous appeal, made sure all the paperwork was in order, backed up and attested to, so no judge would doubt it. But even with everything in order, nobody knew what to expect.

Lori came down from Portland this weekend. The court date for the appeal is tomorrow.

My plan was to fast and pray today as. Ethiopia is 11 hours ahead. This morning I was in my office, and heard Ted and Lori on speaker phone with someone. After some time the speaker phone went silent. I went out to the dining room.

"Was that Gladney?" I asked.
"Yes," Ted replied.
"Were they prepping you for tomorrow?"
Ted smiled. "We're parents."
Court officials reviewed the paperwork a day early and said, "Why was this ever denied?" They approved the adoption without the court date! You can read more on their blog, but here's a picture of the peanut.

The community of parents who've adopted from Ethiopia is tight, and the Rooneys have gotten a lot of support. Lori pointed to me to the story of one couple who've adopted two children. On their last visit they stayed a while at the orphanage, playing games and visiting with the children. They met an adorable 8 year old boy, Samson. When they finally left camp, the boy he whispered in the man's ear, "choose me."

The good news is, the three of them are coming to The States they're going to The States to the "Bright Futures" camp, where families who are interested in adoption older children can come and meet lovely children like Samson and his sisters. If you're the praying sort, please pray that Samson and his siblings find parents who are worthy of them!