First Letter from O'er The Pond

I've a new pen pal in the UK. Received my first letter in yesterday's post.

Clouds v Sunshine

Thursday 22
Kings and kingdoms will all pass away
But there's something about that Name.

Friday 23
I had another physical therapy appointment in the morning. My back and neck have improved greatly and I am so thankful for the care of Dr. Choi and co. The healing process after a car accident is such an important thing, and they've really put me back on my feet.

I also had the opportunity to do some freelance work for a potential contract employer; the meeting took place in the afternoon. The meeting was a chess game, two people each sizing up the other, each assessing how the other might make their business more profitable. Unfortunately, some questions of ethics were raised in my mind. We'll see what happens, but I won't compromise my professional integrity for any reason.

Study in the evening was good again, back in 1 Timothy 4, and Hebrews 12 by way of conversational rabbit trails. The ever-genuine Rick DeVaul leading discussion. It's always a wonder to me how meek and strong he can be at the same time, complete with his twinkling eyes and salt & pepper beard. He reminds me of Laura Ingalls Wilder's childhood memoirs concerning her father. God wants this to be my credo and modus operandi for the time being. (Well, actually Christ is technically the credo. Anyway.)

Saturday 24
Got up a little earlier than I wanted, and put on my grey suit and that purple J.Crew tie I've been meaning to wear someday. I like to look sharp at a wedding; in retrospect I should have just chopped my beard off and gotten a haircut. But none of that is important. The wedding was important. For those of you who don't know my best-female-friend Christina (formerly) Yakel and my Bible-study buddy Jeremy Walker, this was the equivalent of Jim and Pam finally getting married. Since Jer is from FBC and Christina is from HBC, of course all the Fairhaven guys were there, and most of the Hillview friends and most of Martha and the Chores, so we were critiquing the wedding band the whole time, taking notes for our own debut at the DeVaul wedding in June. We are all anxious not to biff our first wedding. It goes without saying that Christina was beautiful in her golden tresses and pure-white gown, Jer more fun than ever stalking his long, tall tuxedo around the reception, and both of them full of charisma and sparkle. The succinct service and bubbly reception were truly celebratory, and all of us worked up a healthy glow, dancing and singing our exultation.

Sunday 25
Hillview's German intern Tobi preached at Grace on Sunday, and his natural earnestness complemented well the slim boyish carriage and warm coloration so common in young German scholarly types. He is truly a sincere seeker of Christ and I am grateful to have gained a friend in him, as I think he is exactly what he appears to be, and will continue to be of humble and solid repute, a man worth knowing and by whom to be sharpened. He preached on the importance of sharing Christ with people who need him, an echo of Friday night's study taught by Rick, and the tears in D.L. Moody's view of the world.

Martha and the Chores practice was a little lame-o in some respects, but it was refreshing to have Peter shoulder some of the responsibility for the practice. Still everyone kept coming to me instead of him with questions, though. All things considered, we have a way to go before we're kings and queens of R&B, so I anticipate a few more weeks of rough going. I do wish the bride had requested a little more Nat King Cole and a bit less Bebe & Cece Winans. :P

Monday 26
Since I don't think stealing Zooey Deschanel's heart is a realistic plan, I'm keepin' my eye out for someone who could sing me this song. It's been stuck in my head for weeks.

It doesn't get better than home,
now, does it?

She would never have to sing me this song, even though it's cute as anything:

Stopped by my parents' house after work for a bite, a chat, and some family prayer time. It was pleasant. Lately prayer has been a necessary release valve more than any kind of discipline for which I might take credit.

I Know No Other Stand

I have been distracted somewhat by the beginning of baseball season. There is a romance to the idea of the ballgame, for me. I don't have the same feelings about other major sports such as football, or basketball, or even my own soccer. I also recognize the timelessness of some sporting pastimes such as tennis or golf, but usually saw them as white privilege sports, which is a turnoff for me. But baseball is the old fashioned American Pastime, the iconography of childhood bubble-gum trading cards; it's the province of DiMaggio and the Babe, the same dust stirred by the prodigious cleats of Rollie Fingers and Willie Mays. There is nothing that compares to the tension as a pitcher works all the muscles of his body, and all the finesse in his fingertips, to bend the path of a projectile with pinpoint accuracy through the air around the swinging bat of a formidable opponent. Fine-tuned skill is pitted against fine-tuned skill for the pride of two American towns.

Andre "The Hawk" Dawson! The (erstwhile) Montreal Expos of the 1980's! Looking at this picture makes me feel like I am five years old again, in a good way.

Wednesday 14
Finished my taxes. I can't wait to get a little back this year. But next year I am determined to do them in February.

Thursday 15
After work I had been invited to come spend some time with Asher up in the hills where he was house-sitting for his boss the fire chief. Hot tub plus steaks and beer at a hill-folk fireman's house made it the most blue-collar guy-time I've had in a while, just brother Peter and old pal Asher. I called Ramsey and Jared but neither of them could go. Asher has been living in a bubble up there in the hills, away from everything. I haven't seen him much since the days we all used to go to college Bible study, perhaps three years ago now. After his breakup he just sorta receded into the hills and doesn't often drive down into town. It has been bad for his redneck complex, but he's still a man of solid character, and a trustworthy friend, which both make him good company.

Friday 16
Ashley (friend and band vocalist), called to let me know she couldn't go with the band to the college ministry Summit this year. Baby, husband, etc. That's a bit of a blow to Martha and the Chores, but we'll manage fine. It was doubtless the right choice. She'll still be singing with us in the wedding. The question raised in that conversation was whether the ever-improving MATC should begin to work more like a real band a less like a once- or twice-annual worship project. We agreed that nearly everyone in the band seems to be on-board for a higher commitment level. Friday night study was excellent conversation on the topic of godliness, in the context of 1 Timothy 4, devolving into a review of the basic gospel message. Really a refreshing time.

Saturday 17
Sunny and warm are new favorites of mine. Trent and I met Daniel Lee at the high school and played pick-up basketball. It was luxuriously healthy to get the exercise without the "hamster wheel" feeling of the rainy day gym. I got a light sunburn, of which I was proud. Family time at my parents' house in the evening to watch an old 1970's sermon by Nicky Cruz.

Sunday 18
Church was nice. The sermon was by the energetic young dad from Texas, Brady, who will be the Summit guest speaker this year. He asked us all to stand and sing my favorite hymn, Immanuel's Land, at the end of the sermon (lyrics at the conclusion of this post). Went home again and chatted with mom over PB&J. I love seeing (our yellow lab) Jude when I go home, and looking at the Cecil Brunner and blackberries intertwining in the sun. Band meeting and practice was more organized than usual, and went well. We've also, to the delight of all, been asked to add "When I'm 64" to the wedding song-list. That made my weekend.

Monday 19
Doctor check-up in the morning. He said I should keep receiving physical therapy a bit longer, and gave me a little immune system advice. Spent part of the day working and part of the day catching up on schoolwork. It's nice when the boss is out of town because I can work whatever hours I want. My suspicions were confirmed, upon looking over the grades; it doesn't appear I am on an "A" pace. Unacceptable! :/

Tuesday 20
Made an appointment with a potential client. Am happy with the prospect.

Wednesday 21
Physical therapy in the morning, work, then class in the afternoon. I discussed MEChA with one of my classmates. I had expressed some interest in attending MEChA meetings with some of my Chicano friends from SJSU, not so much because I agree with the policy positions of the group (in fact I quite disagree with most of their tact and ideology), but because I sympathize with some of their concerns and want to reach out to the Latin community in general when I can. I don't know if I'll go, however. I am not sure people in that group are about anything more than ethnic pride and Progressive politics, both of which I believe to be very insidious and harmful. In the evening Trent and I drove downtown to the Mini Gourmet, and met Peter, Phi, and DMV there, and they had brought an old acquaintance along in Bekka Bjorke. It was a fun evening, though sometimes the contrast of open-hearted Christians on one side of the table, against the aimless foulness of the utterly worldly on the other, is somewhat awkward. I wish I could get rid of their perception of my/our self-righteousness (in that I believe in truth and defend it) and just see the Jesus I see.

{ end }

Immanuel's Land

O Christ, He is the fountain, The deep, deep well of love,

The streams on earth I've tasted, More deep I'll drink above,

There to an ocean fullness, His mercy doth expand,

And glory, glory dwelleth in Immanuel's land.

With mercy and with judgment My web of time He wove,

And aye the dews of sorrow were lustred with His love,

I'll bless the hand that guided, I'll bless the heart that planned,

When throned where glory dwelleth, in Immanuel's land.

O! I am my Beloved’s And my Beloved’s mine!

He brings a poor vile sinner Into His “house of wine.”

I stand upon His merit, I know no other stand,

Not even where glory dwelleth in Immanuel’s land.

The Bride eyes not her garments, but her dear Bridegroom’s face;

I will not gaze at glory but on my King of Grace.

Not at the crown He giveth, But on His pierced hand;

The Lamb is all the glory of Immanuel’s land.

Moxy, The Proper Working Chair, and Lock-Picking

Monday 5
Sick day. Called in and the folks at the office agreed I should stay out. Wish I could say I did much with the free time, but I was ill. I stayed in, poked more at that video game, cleaned a bit, and laundered some necessaries, all with an ennui to do a snail proud. Primarily I slept a lot.

Called in to catch the boss before he left town. He thanked me for calling and relayed some skeletal instructions for the next couple of weeks. I reckon I can stretch it into two weeks' work.

n Aside: Brandini, Adrift My housemate Matt had some paperwork problems renewing his EMT license, so he is out of work for a week and a half waiting for the papers to clear. Its funny, even though everyone knows its just a formality, and he hasn't lost his job, he can't work until it comes through. So, as a result, we have both been strewn around at home. (I mean "strewn" in the least literal way. This living situation remains, even as a sick-house, the most pleasantly clean men's living quarters in which I have ever had the privilege of taking part.) He also has a cold, though not like my gunk, but is an incorrigible home-body, so he is reliably present at all hours for the next week or two.

Tuesday 6
I felt a good deal more energetic and the sun was out for once, but I still had the gunk and hadn't been cleared to work, so I started tackling things around the house more. I did a copious amount of laundry and some homework and reading, gave the lawn a close cropping and cleared some weeds out of the cracks in the sidewalk.

I don't really remember the whole day because it wasn't that memorable. Being away from work made me not want to do anything. By the end of the day my facebook status read:

I AM REALLY TIRED OF BEING SICK, STUCK AT HOME. Doctor appt. in the morning to find out what the heck is wrong with me.

Wednesday 7
Had an appointment with a Dr. Sullivan, ophthalmologist, about my eyes. Of course, by then they'd cleared up some. I liked his deportment and manner as much as I liked his name and the sense of humor I'd heard floating down the hall. He came highly recommended, and that clearly was because J. Sullivan, M.D., is highly recommendable. He happened to have a dropper-bottle of just the stuff I needed, Vigamox ("moxifloxacin hcl" is more fun to say) already sitting on his desk, so I walked away having paid only a $20 co-pay and no more. (I wrote an anecdote from this morning continued here. I got a lump in my throat when I was writing it. Yes, I am an intolerable sap.)

After being useless for two days, I was quite happy to be back at the office. I couldn't believe, logging in, that my time-card was really blank since the 2nd. Blah.

Someone left the perfect office chair out for free on the curb. I couldn't believe it. Yes, it's a mite rusty and dusty, but I cleaned it up and had all the parts moving soon. I just can't believe I was able to find just the thing. Now if only I could find a proper desk.





As I left the office I got a phone call from Jerry Brinson, an old Louisville friend with whom I had been feeling guilty about falling out of touch. We talked local politics and campaigns, and he told me the usual stories (in full technicolor cussing) in his heavily drawling middle-aged way, and explained how he had his seventh grandchild on the way now. I was so happy to hear from him, I could bust. I really ought to be praying for Jerry and Delois' family more.

Thursday 8
Went to my parents' place for dinner after work. On my way there Rob Evans, another old Louisville buddy who now lives in Atlanta, called me up. I was bummed out I could only talk for a couple of minutes. He's another guy I've been meaning to pray for, and catch up with. I haven't done that since a couple years ago after I visited.

I finished the leftover ham at my parents' house, THEN found out that they're completely broke and trying to figure out how to pay the mortgage this month. I think I would have eaten half the amount if I'd known. Sometimes I wonder about people who complain about the economy, if they really know what it's like to rely on God for money. You end up worrying a bit more but complaining a bit less. There is no reason in the world my dad shouldn't be paid, and there's also no money in the company that was employing him. What's a man to do? As kids I know we were lucky to have parents who even had a mortgage to pay. But many times growing up we ate and wore that mortgage. It makes one grateful for anything.

Friday 9

• I didn't quite finish the homework due at 11:00 AM. I don't know why I hadn't done it sooner.
• I also couldn't find the ol' moxifloxacin, the bottle of which is just too small. They ought to package it in a large, bright-red ball that you can't possibly misplace.
• I left for work in a rush, and realized halfway there that I'd left my phone.

It became clear that I was in the midst of a productivity downswing, a recurring pendulum-type thing just irregular enough that it can't be foreseen and calendared. It is characterized by a dratted absent-mindedness and mild physical clumsiness. I clearly need a return to method.

Went by home for a few minutes to pick up my moxy. Mom had some scriptures to share with me. Then I went to SaltWorks' Friday night study for the first time. I think I may have mentioned before that my friend Jared is going to start getting some much-needed fellowship there regularly, and I want to encourage him in that. Also a lot of my friends (read: members of Martha and The Chores) are involved in it. So, while I had forsworn "college ministry" activities, I may get involved there.

Saturday 10 - Monday 12

These days went by without much event of note, aside from the following. Saturday I cleaned a lot and cooked a mess of food so I will have something to eat. I made my brown ale meat-sauce angel-hair pasta. Matt liked that. I also got out the car cover for my wrecked Accord, since I decided to keep it and "part it out" to recoup some of its value. Of course, I don't want a wreck on my curb, so the car cover was the ideal solution. But it was locked, and the key missing. I felt very satisfied with myself for researching and picking the lock. The feeling of the barrel turning and the hasp opening was the feeling of conquest.



Sunday night's Martha and The Chores practice went well; we adopted two new (to us) songs, in Be Exalted and He is Jehovah. Our versions sound a good deal less corny than the linked recordings.

Spring Broken

Monday 29
How to return down the mountain? That's always the trouble. To be back at work, sore muscles and all, after a weekend of generally wholesome interactions, was anticlimactic. I found myself drifting through my various undertakings at the office as though under the influence of spiritual Novocaine. Took a few minutes mid-morning to call Oregon's Hood River Circuit Court and pay my traffic fine. The clerk graciously reduced it by about $50. I also got a call from Paul around 8:30. He still refuses to get a cellular phone, so the number is always strange, but I picked up immediately on the hunch it was him. When two connoisseurs of the conversational art meet in witty banter, there really is nothing like it. If good friends, they may resume at any time, in almost any humor, on any topic, with equal ebullience. It matters not how much time passes between.

Tuesday 30
Work was productive and generally carefree. Saw Dr. Choi again for more physical therapy. I'd say it's helping. My neck, back and shoulder pain have gone down significantly since the traffic inconvenience. Definitely coming down with some sort of bug. By the evening it felt like I had a fever, and a soreness had developed in the throat and lower nasal passages.

Wednesday 31
Too sick to go to work. Woke up with a fever, prohibitive head and chest congestion, and a deep cough. Slept it off all day.

Thursday, April 1
I Supposed I was well enough, and past the worst of it, as the fever seemed to have broken. Things at the office were somewhat slow, but there was enough for me to do.

April Fools was mostly uneventful except for a few jokes among online friends at Xanga. My participation received kind raves from some of the who's who of the Xanga community.

“...you win April Fools.”
-GreekPhysique

“You are great”
-trunthepaige

“Full of win”
-Paul_Partisan

“...nice touch.”
-TheTheologiansCafe

“I bow before you”
-La_Chose_en_Soi

“...now this was funny.”
-TheBigShowAtUD

Tiny came over in the evening, ignoring my caveats of illness, and I watched the eighth and ninth installments of Band of Brothers with him. All the rest of us finished our most recent viewing of it a while ago, so he's trying to catch up.

Chapter nine is the heart-wrenching episode entitled "Why We Fight." It's hard to imagine being a comparatively sheltered 1940's soldier, having never heard of a Nazi concentration camp, and getting an impromptu history lesson by witnessing the atrocity first-hand. It never fails; I always weep watching this portrayal. The men who wrote, produced, directed, and acted for this miniseries were geniuses. We saved the last episode for later.



Friday 2
Physical therapy involved some painful massage sessions on the injured areas. I like the masseuse, a large, middle-aged woman who is an amiable Catholic, a San Jose Sharks fan, and a classically-trained opera singer. Given my own background in choral music, arias, and being myself a passive Sharks fan, I enjoy her company and conversation. The day was rather pleasant at work barring sickness, and overlooking the mild office-politics fire I inadvertently started. I was missed in the morning, as I'd forgotten to inform my office of my longer appointment, and had to apologize for my negligence.

I'd intended to accompany Jared to Hillview's Friday night college-group Bible study. I don't usually go to college-group functions anymore, but I think Jared's had a hard time finding regular fellowship since he left Grace, and I want to cheer him on. I didn't feel up to it at all, and spent Friday night in bed. I promised him and the others (most of Martha and The Chores goes to Hillview) I would go next week.

Saturday 3
Woke up with some kind of stuff in my eyes. It seems my cold had progressed through my sinuses into my eyes, where it produced an intense conjunctivitis. My eyes were a deep, evil red and had begun to itch and weep. I tried to putter around and do things but I felt too sick and ended up just vegetating, reading and half-heartedly trying to enjoy a humorous video game. I am not sure how my roommates can stand to spend so many hours of their lives on that Xbox. The whole day was an enormous pile of yuck.

Well, yes, yuck. But there was also sunshine, and softly singing cloud patterns.

Sunday 4
Awoke ill and oozy, discovering that my lungs and windpipe had been gently run over by a truck. I must have spent the entire night coughing in my sleep. My eyes were less red, but now the cough increased its virulence, and a daresay I would have been a nuisance if I had joined any Easter fellowship. It was disheartening to miss Easter Sunday services, and to be out of fellowship on another consecutive Sunday. All the legalistic types at my church have now probably taken me for an apostate if they hadn't already, those squirrelly scoundrels. No matter; you can never please them anyhow; I think nothing ever does.

I was more taken aback to be uninvited from the family Easter dinner! I'd worked hard to conceal my excitement at the prospect of taking my tired frame back to home's nurturing arms, and the mere thought of the good clamor Mom would certainly be raising in the kitchen warmed my poor bachelor's heart. But it was not to be. They didn't want my germs, and I don't blame them. Such is the life of the roving independent male of the species.

As a consolation, Mom and Dad dropped by later with a brown paper sack full of chamomile tea, cough suppressant, eye drops, orange juice, and other such balms, and a separate bag with what would have been my first and second helpings from the Easter table.

Believe me when I tell you, the spoils were nothing short of the most succulent and crumbling varieties of culinary bliss. Mom's pineapple and dark-cherry ham is unparalleled, and melts in the mouth. Her poppy-seed cake is scrumptious and glazed in heavenliness. Her whole palette brimmed with fresh strawberries and spinach leaves, steamed asparagus and small potatoes with chives and sour cream. My parents were concerned at my red eyes, obvious fatigue, and congestion; they didn't stay long, but urged me to see a doctor soon.

I canceled what small band practice we could have had. Multiple members would be absent due to the holiday, and I didn't feel equal to the remaining challenge. It just didn't seem worth the hassle. I disinfected everything I had touched and called it a night.