Give or take a few years

A strange thing happened to me today. I was wandering around Cost Plus World Market (funny thing, only those in the West Coast retain the ‘Cost Plus,’ the ones here are just called ‘World Market.’), and strangely found myself wanting to buy a lot of stuff.

There were these plates, bowls, and all sorts of other kitchenware that I wanted. But I didn’t want them for my home now, I wanted them for my future home. As if I just bought a new apartment/house and wanted to furnish it, finally make a home something of my own for once. I found myself actually trying to picture what went with what, how this bowl would look on a table compared with that bowl.

And then I wandered into the Christmas section, and that took me back, and forward, about 10 years I’d say. I wanted to buy the gingerbread cocoa mix, the caramel apple cookie mix, the winter-shaped pasta. I wanted them because I love all things Christmas yes, but strangely I wanted to be able to take them home and make them, and share them with friends and family.

Family. Since when do I ever think about that–coming home to share something with family?

I walked out of Cost Plus empty handed today. But in a few years, I could see myself walking out with bags full of stuff.

It was weird to consciously feel myself thinking about things like that.

Calling down the thunder

In my book, there’s not much worse than talking down to somebody while masquerading as helping them.

This is especially true if you’re praying.

I mean, how insincere must you be to–after passing a condemning voice of judgment–say, “I’ll be praying that God opens your eyes.”

You just simultaneously slung mud on someone’s face since their eyes are clearly “not open,” and made yourself look oh so holy because you’re praying for said person’s soul. Sick.

I remember once I was at a meeting preparing for a conference we were holding. We were having some issues over how we were going to actually lead the small group sessions, one person, we’ll call him ‘A,’ suggested we do mock groups. Two people, ‘B’ and ‘C,’ adamantly said we just pray about it and be done with it. They argued it’s about our heart, about leaving things in God’s hands. ‘A’ said yes, but we should also take steps of our own to prepare. I’d say they should’ve just started yelling at each other. That would have been better.

But no, they decided to be super implicit about it. That if ‘A’ really had faith he’d just let it go and pray. You could feel everyone else in the room rustling and unsure of whether or not to step in. Then ‘A,’ surprisingly, had the guts to defend himself. You would have thought they would have jumped up and just got into a brawl. That also would have been better. At least they would have admitted their issues.

But no, the group decided to pray and end the meeting. And of course, ‘B’ and ‘C’ raised their hands like the good poster children they just created for everyone to see.

And they prayed that God would show everyone what was really important, that we wouldn’t worry about the things ‘A’ worried about. Well, maybe they didn’t mention ‘A’ by name, but they might as well have.

I wanted to get up and leave. I think if I was in that situation today, I probably would.

It’s dishonest. And to do it in the name of prayer, I don’t even know what to call that.