Oh no!!
The Terps have somehow convinced folks to vote them into both polls. Yeah, they've beaten 3 ranked teams this year, and the loss to Virginia is looking better (still, 31-0?!) with each Cavaliers' win. But they needed a last-second field goal to secure the home win against the Wolfpack on Saturday, and with VT (a week from Thursday, in Blacksburg), UNC, FSU, and BC (also away) left, could easily end up 6-6!
(I'm also avoiding black cats and ladders, given the team's - and conference's - recent history of folding in the face of prosperity . . . )
Monday, October 27, 2008
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
More flexibility
With an unusual (for us) ministry opportunity coming up in November, the group I've been singing with is augmenting our usual reflective, piano-only accompaniment with a fuller band. A couple of us will switch off on guitar, playing together on one or two pieces, and we'll have a drummer and another percussionist - and we'll toss in additional percussion as appropriate - as well as a bassist. We already had everyone lined up except the bass player. We have this new parishioner we haven't been able to work in much because we already have someone playing bass. His wife has been playing flute for us. I'd had him join us at an alternate Mass once, and knew he'd be perfect for this group. It looked like an ideal chance to get him plugged in with a really enthusiastic bunch of musicians. So last Monday he came to rehearse with us and meet the group, and just as I thought, we meshed really well. He was pretty excited to be working with us, too.
Well, apparently last Tuesday or Wednesday he was notified that he'd be deploying to Iraq for six months. Starting yesterday. His coworker who was supposed to go couldn't, and our bassist was the guy's last-minute replacement. I mean, what's up with that? The general couldn't find anybody besides our bassist to send?
Obviously I'm being a bit tongue-in-cheek. Fortunately, the assignment should be fairly low-risk, but it still makes for a challenging time for him and his family. I told him we'd keep him and his colleagues in our prayers, and to make sure his wife lets us know if they need anything. If nothing else, I'm hoping maybe mrs. tg can watch the kids for his wife occasionally so she can get out for a sanity break.
As for our concert, we've also stumbled upon a great backup plan. A very busy bassist we've previously worked with is - to our surprise - available that night. He'll also be able to switch off onto tenor sax on a piece that calls for it instead of bass . . .
Well, apparently last Tuesday or Wednesday he was notified that he'd be deploying to Iraq for six months. Starting yesterday. His coworker who was supposed to go couldn't, and our bassist was the guy's last-minute replacement. I mean, what's up with that? The general couldn't find anybody besides our bassist to send?
Obviously I'm being a bit tongue-in-cheek. Fortunately, the assignment should be fairly low-risk, but it still makes for a challenging time for him and his family. I told him we'd keep him and his colleagues in our prayers, and to make sure his wife lets us know if they need anything. If nothing else, I'm hoping maybe mrs. tg can watch the kids for his wife occasionally so she can get out for a sanity break.
As for our concert, we've also stumbled upon a great backup plan. A very busy bassist we've previously worked with is - to our surprise - available that night. He'll also be able to switch off onto tenor sax on a piece that calls for it instead of bass . . .
Thursday, October 16, 2008
An interesting exchange
While we were in MD for my uncle's services, we also got to spend some time with mrs. tg's folks. Her mom is battling cancer, and it was good for us to be with her. On Sunday, we went to Mass with her dad. Most weeks they pick up an older neighbor so that she can attend Mass, too, and he was filling her in on how mom is doing.
This led to a really fascinating discussion when she observed, "I just don't understand why good people have to suffer."
Dad had already reflected on the Gospel reading, in which Jesus admonished the Pharisees that prostitutes and tax collectors were entering the kingdom of God ahead of them. It was in this context that he replied with a wry, matter-of-fact chuckle, "Well, it's so bad people can go to heaven." I immediately understood he was referring to a couple of things at once: Jesus, the only perfectly good person, willingly offered himself up and suffered unspeakably for our salvation; but also, God seems to work even through our temporal suffering to help draw those around us into eternal joy. But his response really took her aback.
"Oh," she responded, perplexed, "I don't think bad people go to heaven! If that's true, what's the point in trying to live right?" She then proceeded along a tangent that isn't pertinent here.
Sitting in the back seat, I gave my wife's hand a squeeze, knowing that my only hope is that he's right and she's wrong! Fortunately, that matches what I believe, and "the point" is that "living right" is my response to the love which God has poured out in my life, which I can never deserve. Throughout Christian history, this is what we have referred to as "grace." It is also how I make myself available as a vessel through which God might pour that same love into the lives of those around me.
It was a really neat conversation to be in on.
This led to a really fascinating discussion when she observed, "I just don't understand why good people have to suffer."
Dad had already reflected on the Gospel reading, in which Jesus admonished the Pharisees that prostitutes and tax collectors were entering the kingdom of God ahead of them. It was in this context that he replied with a wry, matter-of-fact chuckle, "Well, it's so bad people can go to heaven." I immediately understood he was referring to a couple of things at once: Jesus, the only perfectly good person, willingly offered himself up and suffered unspeakably for our salvation; but also, God seems to work even through our temporal suffering to help draw those around us into eternal joy. But his response really took her aback.
"Oh," she responded, perplexed, "I don't think bad people go to heaven! If that's true, what's the point in trying to live right?" She then proceeded along a tangent that isn't pertinent here.
Sitting in the back seat, I gave my wife's hand a squeeze, knowing that my only hope is that he's right and she's wrong! Fortunately, that matches what I believe, and "the point" is that "living right" is my response to the love which God has poured out in my life, which I can never deserve. Throughout Christian history, this is what we have referred to as "grace." It is also how I make myself available as a vessel through which God might pour that same love into the lives of those around me.
It was a really neat conversation to be in on.
Monday, October 13, 2008
Being flexible
Sometimes we have to be careful not to invest too much faith in our plans. (Actually, I suppose "plans" could be replaced with pretty much anything, aside from things like "God," or "Savior".) When we can avoid that, we can end up receiving unexpected blessings.
For a month or so, mrs. tg and I had planned to host our marriage encounter group last Saturday evening. In a real leap of faith (there's that word again) for her, we'd also agreed to make a short presentation to the other couples - I simply can't convey how out of character it was for her to agree to this. So when we went to MD for Unc's services, we took along the book The Seven Levels of Intimacy, by Matthew Kelly, as our planned resource for this presentation. Rather than have her wade through the whole thing, which I'd already read (twice), I had her focus on a few sections that I thought would lend themselves well to the short time we'd have available to us - about ten minutes. Though the book's main points couldn't really be covered in less than an hour, there were a few gems that I thought might fit well together for a shorter presentation.
Anyway, mrs. tg read through the suggested pages before bed one night in MD, but we didn't have a chance to discuss it at that point. A couple days after we were back home she went through them again, making notes on things that she thought were worth sharing. It happened that we agreed completely on what we should work into our talk, and over the next couple days we were able to get things pretty well ready. The only real down side was that, while we were glad to be getting together with this group of friends, we were going to miss a parish event that was slated for the same evening.
By Friday it was looking as if only two other couples from the group would be available. Sometimes, though, the smaller meetings are nicest, a chance to really get to know one another better. But when we got back to the house late Saturday afternoon after some shopping, we had a message from one of them: the wife was sick and they wouldn't be able to make it. While listening to the message, the other couple called. A family situation had come up that required their immediate attention.
In truth, we were pretty excited about our presentation, and I'd been a little disappointed to share it with only a few people, especially for mrs. tg's sake. Now we have it tucked away for future use, hopefully with more of the group available. And since we weren't wrapped up in disappointment over our plans falling through, we realized we were suddenly free to participate in the tri-parish Eucharistic procession through the community (streets closed off, drummer providing cadence; such processions are still a key part of the Catholic experience in many parts of the world) and Benediction that evening. This turned out to be a really neat event, with dinner beforehand and dessert after and lots of nice fellowship. Oh, and our associate pastor shared his wonderful first experience of donating blood in his native India; the virtually destitute family of the young (9-year-old) recipient was so grateful they ultimately received Christ and converted!
For a month or so, mrs. tg and I had planned to host our marriage encounter group last Saturday evening. In a real leap of faith (there's that word again) for her, we'd also agreed to make a short presentation to the other couples - I simply can't convey how out of character it was for her to agree to this. So when we went to MD for Unc's services, we took along the book The Seven Levels of Intimacy, by Matthew Kelly, as our planned resource for this presentation. Rather than have her wade through the whole thing, which I'd already read (twice), I had her focus on a few sections that I thought would lend themselves well to the short time we'd have available to us - about ten minutes. Though the book's main points couldn't really be covered in less than an hour, there were a few gems that I thought might fit well together for a shorter presentation.
Anyway, mrs. tg read through the suggested pages before bed one night in MD, but we didn't have a chance to discuss it at that point. A couple days after we were back home she went through them again, making notes on things that she thought were worth sharing. It happened that we agreed completely on what we should work into our talk, and over the next couple days we were able to get things pretty well ready. The only real down side was that, while we were glad to be getting together with this group of friends, we were going to miss a parish event that was slated for the same evening.
By Friday it was looking as if only two other couples from the group would be available. Sometimes, though, the smaller meetings are nicest, a chance to really get to know one another better. But when we got back to the house late Saturday afternoon after some shopping, we had a message from one of them: the wife was sick and they wouldn't be able to make it. While listening to the message, the other couple called. A family situation had come up that required their immediate attention.
In truth, we were pretty excited about our presentation, and I'd been a little disappointed to share it with only a few people, especially for mrs. tg's sake. Now we have it tucked away for future use, hopefully with more of the group available. And since we weren't wrapped up in disappointment over our plans falling through, we realized we were suddenly free to participate in the tri-parish Eucharistic procession through the community (streets closed off, drummer providing cadence; such processions are still a key part of the Catholic experience in many parts of the world) and Benediction that evening. This turned out to be a really neat event, with dinner beforehand and dessert after and lots of nice fellowship. Oh, and our associate pastor shared his wonderful first experience of donating blood in his native India; the virtually destitute family of the young (9-year-old) recipient was so grateful they ultimately received Christ and converted!
Monday, October 06, 2008
Warming the heart
Wow. What a whirlwind.
I can't remember the last time we spent consecutive weekends in MD. I also don't know if we've ever logged 2000 driving miles in 8 days. But it was all well worth it. My mom's only brother deserved all that and more.
Unc had asked to be cremated, so we had a viewing and brief memorial service a week ago Friday (Sept 26) and an interment this past Friday. We'd originally planned only to go the first weekend, but pretty much as soon as we arrived found out that the family gathering was really planned around the interment. 'Twixt the two, we saw friends and family that I hadn't seen in decades, including a few I didn't even remember. I heard some stories about my mom's younger days, and of course a lot about Unc. His closest friend came up from Florida and regaled us with story after story about their experiences together.
The best part was probably just the incredible time with the family. Even when we've been home in recent years, there have been too few occasions on which everyone was able to be together. And I haven't been in on that amount of focused time together since we were kids. We were still missing one estranged cousin, but everyone else just really enjoyed being with each other again, with "friends and families and mountains of food" sharing "stories and memories and tales all around." (BTW, if you want to hear one of the most poignant albums I've ever heard, check out Bob Bennett's Songs from Bright Avenue; it's gotta be 20 years old now, but still as excellent as the first time I heard it. It's amazing how the greatest art and music grow out of our darkest days.) Maybe there'll be time to share a story or two here later . . .
To top things off, I was also reunited with two old friends and bandmates who I hadn't seen in about 20 and 25 years, respectively. We knew that Chris, the drummer, had a gig on Friday night within a few blocks of where we were staying, so we decided to drop in on him unannounced. We sat there for about three songs as I nodded and harmonized with the music, my smile growing wider with each number. I could tell he hadn't place me yet, smiling politely back at the patron who was so into the music. I waited until he was making eye contact after finishing a piece, then pointed at him and smiled. I thought his jaw was going to hit one of his tom pads, and he let out with a stunned "Oh. My. God," then pointed us out to his wife, who was there along with their daughter. Apparently we were the second ones to surprise him that night, as his sister had unexpectedly traveled over from the Eastern Shore.
During the first break he came over and we hugged, spending a few minutes getting caught up. He told me about my other friend, who was playing bass in a band at a gig about 10 miles away. Chris described where he thought it was, then verified it on his cell phone. So in the middle of the next set we headed out to find the place, near my stepfather's old neighborhood, passing the poorly marked bar twice before deciding that must be it. Ed recognized me as soon as we walked in the door - a fact he promised to rub Chris' nose into when he gets the chance. In fairness, the second place was better lit. On break we got to meet his wife and catch up with him a bit, too.
All in all, it was an incredible day of reunions.
I can't remember the last time we spent consecutive weekends in MD. I also don't know if we've ever logged 2000 driving miles in 8 days. But it was all well worth it. My mom's only brother deserved all that and more.
Unc had asked to be cremated, so we had a viewing and brief memorial service a week ago Friday (Sept 26) and an interment this past Friday. We'd originally planned only to go the first weekend, but pretty much as soon as we arrived found out that the family gathering was really planned around the interment. 'Twixt the two, we saw friends and family that I hadn't seen in decades, including a few I didn't even remember. I heard some stories about my mom's younger days, and of course a lot about Unc. His closest friend came up from Florida and regaled us with story after story about their experiences together.
The best part was probably just the incredible time with the family. Even when we've been home in recent years, there have been too few occasions on which everyone was able to be together. And I haven't been in on that amount of focused time together since we were kids. We were still missing one estranged cousin, but everyone else just really enjoyed being with each other again, with "friends and families and mountains of food" sharing "stories and memories and tales all around." (BTW, if you want to hear one of the most poignant albums I've ever heard, check out Bob Bennett's Songs from Bright Avenue; it's gotta be 20 years old now, but still as excellent as the first time I heard it. It's amazing how the greatest art and music grow out of our darkest days.) Maybe there'll be time to share a story or two here later . . .
To top things off, I was also reunited with two old friends and bandmates who I hadn't seen in about 20 and 25 years, respectively. We knew that Chris, the drummer, had a gig on Friday night within a few blocks of where we were staying, so we decided to drop in on him unannounced. We sat there for about three songs as I nodded and harmonized with the music, my smile growing wider with each number. I could tell he hadn't place me yet, smiling politely back at the patron who was so into the music. I waited until he was making eye contact after finishing a piece, then pointed at him and smiled. I thought his jaw was going to hit one of his tom pads, and he let out with a stunned "Oh. My. God," then pointed us out to his wife, who was there along with their daughter. Apparently we were the second ones to surprise him that night, as his sister had unexpectedly traveled over from the Eastern Shore.
During the first break he came over and we hugged, spending a few minutes getting caught up. He told me about my other friend, who was playing bass in a band at a gig about 10 miles away. Chris described where he thought it was, then verified it on his cell phone. So in the middle of the next set we headed out to find the place, near my stepfather's old neighborhood, passing the poorly marked bar twice before deciding that must be it. Ed recognized me as soon as we walked in the door - a fact he promised to rub Chris' nose into when he gets the chance. In fairness, the second place was better lit. On break we got to meet his wife and catch up with him a bit, too.
All in all, it was an incredible day of reunions.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)