Draw a crazy picture,
Write a nutty poem,
Sing a mumble-grumble song,
Whistle through your comb.
Do a loony-goony dance
‘Cross the kitchen floor,
Put something silly in the world
That ain’t been there before.

– Shel Silverstein, A Light in the Attic

I’ve been wondering when it was that I became an adult…

Was it when I became overjoyed at our purchase of a Whirlpool dryer, endorsed with the Good Housekeeping Seal of Approval? Or was it before that, when I learned how to manage employees while Supervisor of Guest Services at Covenant Seminary? Was it the moment I said “I do” on the cranberry steps of the Worship Hall at Zion Church? Or was it when I almost defaulted on a student loan after transferring to Covenant College… and had to call the loan people myself and clear up the whole mess?

After reading Lindsay’s blog entry (on not fitting in with the men and their hunting conversations or the women and their kitchen talk) I realized that this trek into adulthood is very subtle. It kind of sneaks up on you really! Yes, there have been moments where I’d rather talk with the guys about the inconsistencies between The Lord of the Rings books and movies, rather than chat about more girly topics with my good friends. But overall I’m kind of surprised by my ability to carry on long conversations with other married women about kitchen utensils and new recipes, garden tools and landscape ideas, child-rearing techniques and methods of diapering. To be fair, the mundanity of daily life is not all we talk about; in no way does it define adulthood. But it is a part of it.

I think I became an adult when I learned to get along with people who are very different from myself. High school was all about hanging out (and competing with) peers of similar interests. College and “the real world” were training of a different sort and I quickly learned that friends don’t have to think or behave exactly like me. In fact, if I had waited to find friendship by similarities, I’d be a very lonely person. Every different person that has stepped into my world has influenced me in some way or another, and expanded my thinking accordingly. They’ve pulled, stretched and challenged me into adulthood… and it’s been a good ride thus far.

What’s Mel been up to recently? The Passion trailer can be viewed here. Turn up the volume on your computer and be prepared for goosebumps.

in the thick summer heat
a storm brewed

and the winds came
propelling the chimes into pandemoniac euphony
and the sand blew
driving the soccer players and picnickers from the park
and the rain poured (horizontally)
scattering the girls and conversations from the porch
into their air-conditioned houses

into the night
flashing, thundering, blowing
the storm continued

Ha! A federal judge in New York has refused to order a jail to serve three inmates vegan meals, requested because “non-vegan diets conflict with Jewish mandates to preserve the welfare of animals.” The three are serving time on charges including rioting, criminal mischief and resisting arrest. Hmmm… wonder what the ol’ Jewish mandates had to say about that kind of behavior?

[LJS, 7/16/03, 4A]

O for spiritual eyes to see for a moment the work for the sake of Christ that goes on daily here in Lincoln, Nebraska! What would I see if I could really open my eyes and take in the efforts of the saints? A law student debating issues with honesty and integrity… A custodian humbly cleaning windows and carrying trash bags… A pastor praying for his flock… A child bringing her neighborhood friends to Sunday School… A fast food employee treating customers and coworkers with kindness… A Young Life worker giving her days and nights to relationships with high school students… A mother casting up prayers for her children while scrubbing dishes…

Sometimes my view of the Church is so narrow, so hindered by physical sight that I lose spiritual vision and neglect to see the greater work that honors Jesus Christ. For now I can only imagine my brothers and sisters as they go about their days within my city, but one day I’ll be able to see their work fulfilled in glory. And it will be a beautiful sight.

“That I may know Him.” Phil. 3:10

The initiative of the saint is not towards self-realization, but towards knowing Jesus Christ. The spiritual saint never believes circumstances to be haphazard, or thinks of his life as secular and sacred; he sees everything he is dumped down in as the means of securing the knowledge of Jesus Christ. There is a reckless abandonment abut him. The Holy Spirit is determined that we shall realize Jesus Christ in every domain of life, and He will bring us back to the same point again and again until we do. Self-realization leads to the enthronement of work; whereas the saint enthrones Jesus Christ in his work. Whether it be eating or drinking or washing disciples’ feet, whatever it is, we have to take the initiative of realizing Jesus Christ in it. Every phase of our actual life has its counterpart in the life of Jesus. Our Lord realized His relationship to the Father even in the most menial work. “Jesus knowing…that He was come from God…took a towel…and began to wash the disciples’ feet.”

The aim of the spiritual saint is “that I may know Him.” Do I know Him where I am today? If not, I am failing Him. I am here not to realize myself, but to know Jesus. In Christian work the initiative is too often the realization that something has to be done and I must do it. That is never the attitude of the spiritual saint, his aim is to secure the realization of Jesus Christ in every set of circumstances he is in.

– Oswald Chambers

There is something about my garden that I just can’t get enough of.

Jeremy and I are drawn to each little plant, each new bud like you wouldn’t believe. Every day we’re examining the shrubs and flowers, checking the leaves for signs of health, good or bad. It’s our creative project this summer… And we love it.

We haven’t always been gardeners. My dad has maintained gardens in every place we’ve lived growing up and I never took more than a passing interest in his hobby. Even as apartment dwellers, we’d faithfully water the houseplants but never successfully gardened outdoors. (There were two failed attempts at brightening our rentals with impatiens. Quite sad.) The funny thing is, there’s no such things as a “green thumb.” People often say, I can’t garden — everything I touch dies! But truthfully, it doesn’t take much talent… A little sun, a little water, perhaps a little Miracle-Gro and there’s your garden.

Today in the Tredway Garden things are looking good. The cucumbers seem to be taking a one-day hiatus from production (which is great because no one I know can eat cucs that fast). The little grape tomato bush is full of teeny green balls and the roma is just beginning to fill out it’s oblong fruits. The radishes, though suffering a bit in the heat of the summer, are blooming still and the pole beans are just starting to put out teeny whitish green buds. All the veggies are watched over by a towering stalk, soon to have the head of a sunflower.
   
A GARDEN is a lovesome thing, God wot!  
  Rose plot,  
  Fringed pool,  
Fern’d grot—  
  The veriest school          
  Of peace; and yet the fool  
Contends that God is not—  
Not God! in gardens! when the eve is cool?  
  Nay, but I have a sign;  
  ‘Tis very sure God walks in mine.

Thomas Edward Brown. 1830–1897

Sometimes I feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

Tonight my husband came home to me, bringing an Amigos Southwestern Chicken Salad and a movie from Blockbuster. Then we went on a long walk, past charming little gardens, below a setting sun and clouds lined with gold.

You’ve gotta ask yourself, “Does it get any better?”

No — the earplugs didn’t work. But still, I had a wonderful trip to Washington DC.

As our plane descended towards Reagan National Airport last Saturday it was all I could do to keep from shouting out, much like a small child, “Look! There’s the Washington Monument! Look, the Capitol!!” It was just so cool to be looking upon these buildings that I’ve seen for many years in textbooks and on the news. That evening, stuck in an amazing amount of traffic as we wove our way from airport to hotel, I did my part as a true tourist and leaned out the car window to take a picture of the statuesque white Capitol dome. Throughout our five day stay in DC I never ceased to be awed by the history so easily seen from almost any point in the city.

The most incredible museum visited was the National Gallery of Art. To any student of Art History, this place is a gold mine. Stunning works by Renoir, Monet, Manet, Degas, Toulouse-Lautrec, Rodin and Cassat filled the halls — my mom and I wandered and gazed wide-eyed, contemplating how we could actually be standing in front of such pieces. We ran out time and did not tour all the galleries, but managed to spend a good amount of time in the gift shops on the lower levels.

The most incredible monument visited was the Lincoln Memorial. One evening my dad and I began our walking tour of the city’s many monuments. We walked for two hours straight — first to the White House (so very impressive to see in person… I was dying to meet the President, but only met his front yard instead), then to the Vietnam War Memorials, the Lincoln Memorial, the Korean War Memorial and the Washington Monument. After climbing the massive steps to the Lincoln Memorial we stood inside the cavernous monument and read the Gettysburg Address. After reading it I praised the Lord for giving us such a godly president at such a tumultuous time in our nation’s history. The words of Abraham Lincoln carved on the walls, combined with the beautiful sunset and throngs of quiet tourists taking in the special moment, gave me goosebumps and secured this memorial as the most special in my mind.

I’ll close out this blog entry with a few lines from the Korean War Memorial that seem quite fitting today as we still have troops stationed in Iraq and others attempting to keep peace in places like Bosnia. The first inscription is placed immediately before the memorial, “Our nation honors her sons and daughters who answered the call to defend a country they never knew and a people they never met,” and the second, located on a nearby marble wall, “Freedom is not free.”