because they’re really aren’t many words to say…
about this.
right here.
… REALLY?!
… i mean, REALLY?!
(what do you even DO with a corkscrew nail?!)
maybe you’ve been there…
you’ve made a new Christian friend and you decide to go out to dinner.
you find yourself and your company pulled up at a restaurant called el mojacete, el paco, las tequilas, bonitas tacos or something. after being called senoritas and/or senors (hopefully correctly corresponding to your particular gender), you slide yourself into a comfy booth and place your drink orders. and faster than you can say “aye carumba,” a basket of tortilla chips and bowls of salsa goodness slide across the laminate eating surface.
then it comes…
the eye glances down to the (hopefully) fresh and warm chips.
the finger twitches towards the (hopefully) cilantro-laden mexican sauce.
you sit and smile at each other, and study the non-verbals of your i’ve-never-eaten-mexican-food-with-you Christian acquaintance.
inevitably, out of sheer hunger (or the uncomfortable silence), your company eventually:
1) reaches for a chip
or
2) bows his/her head
either way, the awkwardness is broken and you now know the answer to a very important question:
whether or not your friend is a pre- or post-chip prayer person.
both habits have merit…
pre-chippers take the rule of praying for food and apply it to eating in general; which means that, to practice this interpretation correctly, prayer must be exercised for anything that is considered edible. this would mean that prayer is a prereq before consuming chips & salsa. (this rule may or may not apply to snacks throughout the day as well.)
post-chippers interpret the praying for food rule to praying before eating meals. now, the word “meals” is also open for interpretation. appetizers, generally, are considered part of a formal meal when they are paid for and/or require significant waiting or effort to serve and/or eat. appetizers like chips & salsa, rolls, and peanuts are not paid and wait-for appetizers and therefore do not officially make it into the “meal” category… so they are free to consume without prayer. (this group would also not typically pray before snacks, unless the snacks are really large and/or this particular believer has skipped a major meal throughout the day.)
of course, there is the occasional mid-chip prayer person. they dig in, and you think your safe. you think to yourself, “oh, my new friend is post-chip… no prob.” and then, half-way through the basket, they jump like they’ve been shot and say, “oh my WORD! we totally forgot to pray.” in this instance, you–if you are post-chip–can try and explain your personal tortilla chip prayer strategy (“oh. i didn’t forget. i normally pray when either 1) the first basket is done. or 2) when the food comes. whichever comes first… you know, kinda like the whole 3,000 miles/3 months oil change thing.”) or just go along with them (“OH YES!), hurriedly bow your head, and make a mental note that this friend is a forgetful pre-chip person.
(mid-chipping can also happen when the group is post-chip, but the food doesn’t come out at the same time. after prayer, the my-food-is-here people can go ahead and eat without their food getting cold, and the other normal post-chippers can continue snacking until their fajitas are finished cooking.)
personally, i think that mexican-food eating could be a lot easier if these terms could become mainstream in Christian culture.
take the following scenario. you and your friend sit in the booth. the chips & salsa are delivered.
you: hey, i’m post-chip.
your friend: eh, i’m more of a pre-chipper myself.
you: hey, no prob. let’s pray.
you bow. you pray. you chip.
there is no awkwardness, no analyzation, and all can eat, drink, and be merry.
until the “meal” comes.
because whether or not you are pre-, post-, or a mid-chip person, you’ll still be full by the time the burritos are served.
*btw, the post was inspired by an illustration by my pastor… i’m all about giving create to where create is due.
last night i had the opportunity to go to a party.
it wasn’t a wedding or a birthday get-together.
it wasn’t a baby or bridal shower.
it was a celebration of the faithfulness of God.
here was a woman who had been through the valleys of cancer– the fear, the pain, the chemo, the radiation. here was a woman who God saw fit to bless– with His joy in trials, with His peace in uncertainty, and (after a long, hard fight) with eventual healing and remission in her body.
her response wasn’t anger at being sick. or pity at the time and money and energy that was “wasted.”
instead, she threw a party in honor of her Savior.
regrettably, i haven’t had the opportunity to get to know this woman very much (i was invited to come with my boyfriend and met her for the first time there); and honestly, i’m sorry that i didn’t get to meet her much sooner.
the evening itself was full of laughing, good food, and fellowship of people who know God and who had gotten to know God better through this woman’s battle with cancer. towards the end, there was a time of singing and prayer… and it was during the closing prayer by the woman’s pastor that i heard these words:
“if You [God] can make sense of the suffering of the cross, surely You can make sense of our own.”
maybe someone else said that before. maybe i have heard that before.
but last night, it struck me in a way that i have never felt before.
i have never had cancer.
i don’t know if that will always be the case– it could be something that i will experience at some point. (and from my perspective, the later the better…)
i don’t know what it’s like to experience cancer’s flavor of suffering.
but i can think of ways that i have been hurt. that i have felt pain… insecurity… vulnerablity.
i distinctly remember the way my suffering tasted (or tastes, as the case may be)…
i’m sure that you can, too.
you might be thinking of that lost job, that lost relationship, your lost health, that last argument. you might be remembering your past abuse, your lonely childhood, your unerasable past.
whatever your brand of suffering was… or is…
God will make sense of it.
He made sense of the suffering and death of His beloved son.
He will make sense of your suffering, your life, your death, your past and your present, too.
for you are loved.
you are His.
and He is Good.
beauty will rise from the ashes of your pain; He promises.
and when He does– for He will–can i have an invitation to your personal celebration party?
i want you to know that you are definitely most welcome to mine.
it started pretty impromptu.
google alerted me to the fact that jon acuff (blogger and author) was going to be doing a book signing in atlanta…
so, i emailed b about it…
and how we should go (kidding)…
and he emailed back…
about how we should and what we could do (kidding)…
and after brainstorming and emailing back and forth for a bit…
we both kinda realized that we weren’t kidding anymore.
so, he got off early from work.
i got off early from, um, nothing (read previous post).
we grabbed hanc (my garmin), an address, and a camera, and we were on our way.
we detoured for dinner (yay olive garden and gift cards and chicken marsala!) and a couple of hours later, felix (my car) pulled up at a rather large barnes and noble. b & i enjoyed a brief author scavenger hunt and found ourselves with some locals, other non-locals, and jon acuff plus kin (kin include a beautiful wife and two gorgeous little girls).
the conversation flowed pretty smoothly, especially for a larger group (with the exception of this one guy that had a special place in his heart for italian skinny jeans that you don’t wash for six months in order to get good creases. how do i know this, you ask? oh, he told us. he told us all.)… and as the numbers dwindled a little, we were able to talk about Christianity, satire, writing, blogging, tweeting, and the most important thing that we can do: communicate Christ and his Truth… and how that communication is far better than creating funny or having a large reader base.
i admire acuff’s satire on my subculture– and like most humor, he hits on a lot of truth in his jest. but i must admit, my favorite posts of his are his “serious wednesdays.” and honestly, it was that portion of our group’s face-to-face conversation that i enjoyed the most as well. hearing just a bit of his heartbeat about his ministry, and what he enjoys the most about it, was the highlight of the signing time.
i love for my sense of humor to be engaged. i enjoy being academically stimulated. but the absolute best is to be spiritually challenged and edified. the 45min – 1 hour spent at the signing incorporated all three.
i love it when that happens. :)
(as a sidenote… another thing i loved was just observing the support the acuff family has for each other. you can tell that he loves his family and that his family completely support him in what he’s doing. sure, a lot of people can try and portray that sense of family just to gain a bit of popularity… but honestly, you can’t act that. you can tell if that support is legit. and it was with them. that impressed me.)
so, b & me got a few books signed,
(they look like this…)
grabbed a pic with jon and his wife and his cardboard side-hugging cut-out,
(see?)
and split a piece of chocolate raspberry cheesecake before hitting the road.
(the cheesecake was eaten too quickly for a non-blurry pic. sorry.)
besides a creepy detour for gas (on a scale of 1-10 for creepiness, it’d be a 6.7), b & me made pretty good time back.
so, i would say that a good time was had by everyone– straight-legged-jean-man included. :)
i deem our impromptu adventure a most definite success.
i’m ready to plan for more.
desperate times call for desperate measures.
this is particularly true for those “in-between-jobs,” “involuntarily-leisured,” or “keeping their working options (incredibly) open.” (all nice ways of saying “unemployed.”)
while sending out resumé after resumé for full-time employment, i find myself becoming increasingly creative and/or “open” to temporary working options.
since packing my full-time job away in boxes and storing it in my father’s garage (thanks dad! and i promise i’ll get my porcelain dolls from 5th grade out of there soon…<<cough>>), i’ve found myself accumulating several new, brief, job opportunities.
i have nannyed.
i have cleaned.
i have crafted.
i have edited.
i have been trained and developed.
(i have crafted some more.)
but i have never telemarketed. or come close to it.
until this week.
i was temporarily hired to help a local-ish candidate make phone calls… you know, to remind people to vote–and to see, in particular, if the called people would vote for them.
(i’m using the plural pronoun “them” on purpose because i find typing and retyping “him/her” over and over obnoxious. thanks for your understanding.)
this was my life for a several hours over the past couple of days:
“hi, my name is _________. i’m calling on behalf of _________ _________. they fight for ______________ and do lots of wonderful things in ___________ community. etc., etc., etc.,”
finishing off with, “can ___________ count on your vote?”
some typical answers were:
* yes
* no
* i’m not sure/need more information/still deciding/don’t care
* dial tone (i would say 1 out of 10 were hang ups. after the first couple, i decided not to take it personally.)
however, i did get a few interesting responses that did not fall in one of the previous categories.
(remember, i’m from the south. read the words/pronunciations the way i typed it to try and replicate the accents, if applicable. )
upon giving the schpeel to one man: “woah, ma’am. you have a purdy soundin’ voice… can you repeat watchoo jus sa-id. i jus wanna hear ya.”
(not gonna lie… that was kind of creepy.)
upon giving the schpeel to a middle-aged voter:
and my personal favorite:
upon giving the schpeel to a 90 year-old woman:
but hey, i like her mindset. i mean, if it is all about meeting the needs of the voters, she’s got the right idea, i guess. (gotta love democracy.)
in fact, i betcha that idea could take off.
maybe next election, if i’m still out of work, and all the phone jobs are taken, maybe i’ll find myself mopping the constituency’s floors…
hey, if the voters are happy, i’m happy.
because that's just the way life is . . .