On June 13, 2008 newsman Tim Russert died.  A month later, this is old news.  Yet, this is the news I have been meditating on for the last several weeks.  I did not have any close connection with this man, and only rarely did I see his face on the television screen.  When I first read the news, it seemed surprising, due to his age.  He was, after all, basically a household name and I was familiar with it.  But it wasn’t something that struck ... more

Yesterday I went to drop off two of my in-law’s clocks at a tiny workshop where a lady fixes antique time machines. The lady was a story in itself, but for this post, I want to focus on the clocks. My husband has almost a clock obsession. He has plans of someday building a clock tower attached to a chapel (that is in the plans as well). The clock will run with carved wood pieces. I am probably not technical enough to explain all this, nor do I really understand it all, but for the sake of time—that’s simple a really old way of making clocks. In fact, so old that it goes back to the monasteries.

It was the monastic life that created a need for the invention of clocks in the first place. In our fast, rushed, to-the-minute lifestyle, who could have guessed that the original purpose for the daily hours, was, well…The Daily Hours (i.e. the prayers and readings of the Church)? The mechanical time-keeper allowed nuns and monks to keep track of the hours of prayer, thus inciting the bell-ringer to call the community to worship and discipleship.

My husband recently bought a pocket-watch that is over a hundred years old. Because it was made a hundred years ago it is still working. It is a quality piece of workmanship. If you open up the back, you can literally watch time unfold. The gears click and turn, and so goes our seconds, minutes, hours. I am constantly becoming more aware of how fast time goes by as I watch it tick through its moments. The trees we plant in our yard this fall, will be full grown when I turn about sixty, and my life will be drawing to an end. It’s a sober reminder that we are but a breath and that all things pass away. ... more

In a recent sermon, I heard a minister make a point that we become stagnant in our faith if we are continually looking back in the past. This point can be critisized on various points. Scripture is constantly looking back on what God has done in order to build faith. Each juncture of looking forward also involves looking back at God's work in the past--that history is what allows us to live in the present.

"Where is my faith? Even deep down there is nothing but emptiness and darkness... If there be God--please forgive me."

Are these the words of a faithful, yet doubting Christian? Or the words of an atheist? Perhaps the writings of one who is attempting to reject the idea of God?

I've decided to take up gardening recently. In a Wal-mart-society, I think it is probably a good idea to have some sort of regular connection with the land. Gardening also teaches patience and allows one to intimately reflect on the wonders of creation. Things like gardening allow us to be co-Creators with God-- participating in the restoration of the earth as it groans in expectation for its Creator to restore all things. I've decided that I like gardening a lot.

People give you A LOT of advice when you get married. Actually, on second thought, I'd not exactly call it 'advice'--its more like they comment upon marriage as an institution so that you can get initiated into it before the wedding day. That way you know what you are getting into, or so they seem to think. My then fiance and I realized after awhile that people must have pretty awful marriages. Very rarely did anyone express genuine joy that we were getting married--instead it was all warnings and jokes about how terrible it was to marry someone. But, it also became clear that very few Christians have any idea about what marriage is all about, theologically. So, then, marriage becomes a perversion of what it should be. Not only that, we apply the wrong expectations to it--no wonder we get disappointed!