2008 in Review: Part I

Here was the introduction to a blog post written in January:

"And now for my New Year's resolutions. I usually forget about these within a week and have fun looking back on them and laughing at myself at the next new year ("I said I would do what?"). But either way, they're too fun to resist. So, here are my goals for 2008 for anyone to see (and to hold me accountable too)"

I couldn't have been more right. Looking back at my resolutions, I squirmed a bit with embarrassment and definitely laughed at myself. Here were my "resolutions," followed by the true outcome...

Resolution #1: Run a marathon.
Reality: Plans to run the NY Marathon fell through, probably for the best, but I did run an 8 mile run for a non-profit org in November, which is a start.

Resolution #2: READ MORE.
Reality: Hmm... I did post a VERY AMBITIOUS list of books I hoped to read and/or reread this year. Sadly, the only two books from that list I read were Atonement by Ian McEwan and The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath. I did, however, get to read some other good ones, like High Fidelity by Nick Hornby, that were unexpected but very worth while.

Resolution #3: Attack my scrapbooking box. I don't expect to be a master scrapbooker (in fact, I hope to never become a super scrapbooky person... it's just not me) but I need to at least sort through all that STUFF this year.
Reality: HA HA HA.

Resolution #4: Cut back on my "addictions" ... caffeine, gum, and chocolate.
Reality: Although moving to a country for 5 months that does not sell Vault Zero or sticks of Polar Ice gum does naturally help you cut back on those products, I developed new tastes and addictions. I instead discovered a love for lattes and Diet Coke, and ate Cadbury chocolate by the pound. And now that I'm back in the States, I'm chewing Polar Ice more than ever.

Resolution #5: Wear my retainer!
Reality: I think I actually improved in this category, but not as much as I'd hoped. Instead of wearing it the usual 4 times a year average, I might have broken in double digits... but definitely not more than 12 times.

Resolution #6: And, this one should be automatic, but I need to spend more time with God.
Reality: Yes, and no. England didn't exactly help my faith, but it did help me realize all the spiritual comforts of fellowship I take for granted. I also had the blessing of a Bible Study that was very beneficial while it lasted, but sadly, has had to dissolve since most of the members moved away.

Despite these shortcomings, I still feel drawn toward coming up with more goals for 2009. Maybe this time I'll just set the bar a lot lower. =)

of life, and death, and the life after death

The last thought I held in my mind as I fell asleep last night was that I just don't make any sense.

This isn't exactly a new revelation, just a thought that was confirmed in the light of some recent insights. Last night Zach and I went to see Fincher's "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button." The movie was pretty good, but definitely had it's faults which I won't get sidetracked into discussing here. But the point is, this movie brings up over and over the problem of aging, and death, and the fact that nothing ever lasts...

This got me thinking about, you guessed it, life, and death, and aging, and the sad reality that nothing on this earth lasts. And this is where I become confused and conflicted.

I believe in heaven, in redemption, in eternal life after this flawed existence, but for some reason, I still hang on to this life more dearly than I ever should. I feel like that truth that "nothing ever lasts" should come as a comfort, not a burden... This troubled life won't last forever; there is a new and perfect life to come. But it really doesn't. I don't know at what point in my life I stopped looking forward to heaven, but when I think about heaven now, I feel nothing. I have no dislike or fear of heaven, nothing that would ever make me not want to be there after this earthly life, but I don't have any desire for it either. It feels blasphemous to even say, but it's true.

I'm too attached to this life, too wrapped up in the beauty and tragedy of it all. It saddens and confuses me that we have the capacity to feel such pain and such passion in a life that is so temporary. It's not that I think this life is fantastic, or so purely happy that I just want to keep living forever. I am quite often hurt or jealous or unhappy. But all those moments of pain just make everything else more beautiful. And there is definitely a self-pitying component of my personality that doesn't mind any sort of suffering, because it just gives me an "excuse" to wallow, or lets me feel like my life is more dramatic than it actually is. Pathetic.

But this is where things start to get complicated... When I was a child, I used to pray that I would die before I got too old. I didn't want a long life. I was scared of being a very old person. The thought of having most of my life behind me scares me. So while I don't want to age, I also don't want this life to end.

It seems that what I like about this life is the combination and contrast of the happy and the sad. I appreciate the complexity; and at times I crave the drama. But what confuses me is that while I find a strange satisfaction in wallowing in unfortunate events, there are certain things in life that terrify me because they seem to involve quite a bit of pain or sadness. Marriage, for example. Obviously I haven't experienced it myself, but despite all the "happily ever after" goop I have been spoon fed by fairy tales, novels, and romantic comedies from age 2, I have seen enough examples of relationships gone bad (fictional and non) to leave me extremely pessimistic. I find myself asking, is marriage ever worth it? Didn't all those now divorced couples start out with the same emotions of love and optimism I feel now? In fact, sometimes my cowardice is so crippling I convince myself it would be better to never experience marriage, and therefore bypass any unnecessary risk of pain. But that seems to go against everything I've just said about myself, doesn't it?

What confuses me even more is that one of the reasons I'm skeptical about heaven is because, from my understanding of the scriptures, there will be no marriage in heaven. While the prospect of a temporary earthly marriage occasionally induces feelings of strong anxiety, the thought of no such eternal relationship deeply saddens me. What? How does this even make sense? The rate at which I switch back and forth between a hopeless romantic and a crippling pessimist baffles me. One moment I'm embracing life and everything about it, the next I want to shut myself off from any risk of feeling emotion. How does that work? And which is the true me?

At a point in the movie, as became a bit overwhelmed with sadness at Benjamin Button's predicament of growing younger while all those he loves are aging and dying, I remember thinking, "But this shouldn't bother me, I'm a Christian. I know that there's more than this life." But I couldn't help crying. I couldn't help feeling so burdened by the shortness of this earthly life, and sad that the reward of heaven is not as comforting as it should be.

boxing day

"Take it all down, Christmas is over
But do not despair, but rather be glad
We had a good year, now let's have another
Remembering all the good times that we had
Oh no more lights glistening
No more carols to sing
But Christmas, it makes way for spring
Though hearts of man are bitter in weather
As cold as the snow that falls from above
But just for one day we all came together
We showed the whole world that we know how to love
Oh no more lights glistening
No more carols to sing
But Christmas, it makes way for spring
Oh no more lights glistening
No more carols to sing
Christmas, it makes way for spring
Oh remember that Christmas, it makes way for spring..."

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yEb3_du_5sk

Just thought I'd share my favorite Boxing Day song with anyone who's a bit sad that Christmas has passed.

white Christmas

Sometimes I still find the midwest a bit of a novelty. I grew up on a busy street with a fenced in yard. I was never allowed in the front yard alone as a child, not even to get the mail. We rarely spoke to our neighbors, partly because I'm not sure they all spoke English, let alone invited them in or had them over for supper. I didn't realize that kids still delivered newspapers--I thought that was something that only happened in the towns where Leave It to Beaver or Lassie took place. White Christmases were something I had only ever seen in the movies. 

But then I moved here, to Eau Claire, Wisconsin. I've lived here for six years, but it still manages to catch me off guard and charm me. 

Today, for example... When I put on a hat and mitten to go shovel the snow off the front driveway, I felt like I had walked out into a Norman Rockwell painting, or the Charlie Brown Christmas special, or one of those little collectible Christmas villages middle aged women collect and arrange on their living room tables for the winter. The visiting grandkids of the elderly couple across the street were playing in the snow with their golden retriever puppy. They had skis attached to their feet and were clumsily making their way to the park across the street with their mother. As their dog, Tango, ran up to greet me, slipping and snuffling, they waved to me, calling out "How are you?" and "Beautiful day, isn't it? Merry Christmas!"

Even after six years of negative temperatures, vehicles rusted by salt, potholes, and humid summers riddled with gnats... Wisconsin still manages to surprise and charm me.