Live Poetry from the Blood-Moon Eclipse

A smudge of gray appears at the moon's edge
Marring its white, round brilliance.
The shade creeps inward. 

Now only half a circle of suspended light
Shines glory in the navy sky.
Red-brown shade claims half the moon,
The color of dried blood.

Soon night's lamp (and mankind's muse)
Reveals its cold, brown heart.
It's just a rock - it's nothing more -
Eclipsed by lesser lights.

Zaphod Beeblebrox for President?

Today, to fill your insatiable desire to know what I think about the presidential candidates, I'm going to feature some quotes and descriptions of the man I believe to be the most memorable president of all time: Zaphod Beeblebrox.

Zaphod Beeblebrox is the egotistical golden boy who, in The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, somehow ends up as the President of the Universe, in addition to running a very successful secondhand ballpoint pen business.

As you read these quotes, please keep in mind that any resemblance between Zaphod, a fictional two-headed egomaniac, and Donald Trump, a well-known one-headed businessman hoping to lead our great nation, is purely coincidental.  

It was for the sake of this day that he had first decided to run for the Presidency, a decision which had sent waves of astonishment throughout the Imperial Galaxy — Zaphod Beeblebrox? President? Not the Zaphod Beeblebrox? Not the President? Many had seen it as a clinching proof that the whole of known creation had finally gone bananas.

Trillian: "Can we drop your ego for a moment? This is important.''
Zaphod: "If there's anything more important than my ego around, I want it caught and shot now.''

He had rather liked Zaphod Beeblebrox in a strange sort of way. He was clearly a man of many qualities, even if they were mostly bad ones. 

One of the major difficulties Trillian experienced with Zaphod was distinguishing between him pretending to be stupid, just to get people off their guard, pretending to be stupid because he couldn't be bothered to think and wanted someone else to do it for him, pretending to be outrageously stupid to hide the fact he actually didn't understand what was going on, and really being genuinely stupid.

The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy describes Zaphod as follows (quotes collected from this site):

• "Adventurer, ex-hippy, good timer (crook? quite possibly), manic self-publicist, terribly bad at personal relationships, often thought to be completely out to lunch"
• "Clever, imaginative, irresponsible, untrustworthy, extrovert, nothing you couldn't have guessed"
• "The worst-dressed sentient being in the known universe."

Once again, remember that this is a post about Zaphod Beeblebrox, NOT DONALD TRUMP.  And do read the book if you ever have time -- it's a quick and clever read!

[In the Style of a Pirate] Good News

Ahoy!  This here be International Talk Like a Pirate Day.  Ye lads and lasses know I take a likin to all things International.  And on this great, grand holiday I be thinkin how I could reach me fellow pirates with the good news from the good Booke.  Aye, the Booke you be findin in yarr churches.

"Matey," I'd say.  "Did ye ever do a thing that warn't right?  Aye, I know ye did.  We be scallawags from the bow to the stern, from the hold to the jib.  There be that time we came across Tall Bob Diamond's ship and stormed it, loaded to the gunwales with grog, but fightin like we meant it all the same.  And we sent those lily livered land lubbers marchin off the end o' the plank.

"Then there was the wench we met ashore.  I stole her purse for a piece of eight and paid no mind to the little lassie cryin at her side.  You were there!

"But then I read in yon good Booke that all of us be scallawags, not one of us worth the gold doubloons we pillaged from Scarface Sal.  It be thar in Romans 3:23.

"And then I be readin in Romans 6:23 that every scallawag goes straight down to Davy Jones' Locker.  Matey, I read that and my timbers shivered like they had never shivered before, for I was the scurviest scallawag on ship and bound for the cat o'nine tails or worse.

"Then a tale of one Captain Saul of Tarsus reached me ears -- the bloodiest pirate on the high seas suddenly turned clean and set to writin letters about the Good Lord.  And right thar in Romans 6:23 I read about Dread Jesus of Nazarreth, the hearty who walked the plank in his place.

"Avast!  Did ye hear that, matey?  Dread Jesus walked the plank straight down to Davy Jones' Locker and Captain Saul walked free.

"And he did it for me.

"And He'll do it for you.

"Drop to your knees, you landlubber, and by the blood of the Nazarrene you'll be walkin free.

"Arrr!"


And that's how I'd share the gospel with a pirate. :)

Learn about the Migrant Crisis with Me

Hey readers.  Let's talk about refugees.

Let's talk about normal people who want to live normal lives but got stuck in countries where that’s no longer possible.  Let's talk about men, women, families, and teenagers putting their lives at risk to leave places where their lives are even more at risk.  I once heard a quote about refugees that went something like this:  "Why do middle-class people put their families on leaky boats with shady people promising to get them to another country?  Because they believe that boat is safer than where they are now."

The violence and instability in the Middle East have caused millions to escape across borders into neighboring countries, and now many are journeying through Europe toward safer lives in Western Europe. And yet, they are often being treated like criminals! Good grief! Being a refugee is not a crime, even if it means you made an illegal border crossing.

Let's do this:

Check out THESE PHOTOS of the migrant crisis from Time.  Here's one, a Syrian man who arrived in Greece last week.  But all of the photos are moving, and if you click on only one of my multitudinous links this post, click this one.

Follow the journey of THIS SYRIAN PHARMACIST who made it safely to Europe and told the story of all the perils along the way, using the map below:

Watch CNN's interview with THIS SYRIAN SURVIVOR, whose toddler made international news for being photographed dead on a Turkish beach, where he washed up after their boat capsized and his father couldn't save him.

Check out THIS PHOTO COLLECTION of the items in refugee's bags -- the only things they carried from their homelands into freedom.  Interestingly, several took things like hair gel because they wanted to look like residents (rather than refugees) in order to avoid arrest while traveling through Europe.

Shake your head over Hungary's treatment of refugees passing through their country, detailed in THIS BBC VIDEO.   (Click the text link to view)

Learn more about the EU migrant crisis in this quick article, MIGRANT CRISIS BY THE NUMBERS.

Most importantly, feel compassion.  And then do whatever your compassion leads you to do.

Pray.

Give.

Go.

Pray for the EU as they decide what to do about the migrant crisis.  Pray for world leaders to have some idea how to weaken evil groups like ISIS.  Pray for the men of ISIS themselves to repent and submit their lives to God.  Pray for peace.

Befriend some refugees where you live.  Learn and tell the stories of men, women, and children in crisis around the world.  Ask your government to accept more refugees.  Support an overseas worker in the Middle East.

Probably most of us won't do enough, or won't do it well.  But hey -- at least let's do something.

#WelcomeRefugees.

The Gift of Acknowledgement

This year I've been stalking my acquaintance/friend Sarah as she wrote some beautiful articles on the topic of singleness for an online magazine called Single Matters.  In particular, I loved When Love Came Down ("It's me and you, Jesus.  It's been me and you for a long time...") and Your Wisdom About Love is Not Limited By Singleness, which I'd already been thinking about through my essays on what love looks like in the single life.

Anyway, go read all of Sarah's articles.  And then if you have time, stop by to read an article I just contributed to Single Matters, on the topic "The Gift of Acknowledgement."

That's it for Singleness Week on my blog!  Thanks for reading and commenting.  Find the whole collection here.

[In the Style of Bridget Jones] Single on a Sunday

I typed out this diary entry in the style of Bridget Jones after reading a Bridget Jones's Diary book last summer.  She is one funny fictional Brit.  The actual events I described below were mostly all true. But the thoughts and conclusions were mostly all not -- They are much more Bridget-ish than Alison-ish. Enjoy!


Current weight: Not reported. Number of cigs smoked: 0 (as per usual). Number of bathrooms cleaned: 2 (v. good). Number of floors swept: At least a million (v. v. good). Batches of cookies mixed: 5. Batches of cookies baked: 0. Number of boyfriends: 0 (as per usual).

Alarm set for 4:05 this morning to drive roommate and church staffers to airport for conference in California. Roommate says we are leaving at crack of dawn. I point out it’s another three hours before dawn cracks.

5:30 a.m. Got back from airport and went to sleep for next four hours (unlike me to sleep so late, but v. tired lately). Dreamt was in California with church staffers attending a backyard Mexican barbecue. All were very impressed when I saw them and announced with perfect Spanish accent, “Es mi grupo.” Spent most of dream looking on Google maps to find nearest beach. Awoke to beautiful day in Iowa.

10:00 a.m. Normally would not spend all of Sunday morning un-showered in my pajamas reading “Bridget Jones: Edge of Reason.” Found it on bookshelf last night and laughed out loud through first two chapters, so really do have to finish book to see how it ends. Will be up and showered by 11. Now I’ll just warm up some leftovers and get on to Chapter Three…

Gah! 12:30 already! At least book is finished (v. humorous, if a little crass), so now can be extra productive through rest of day. Also have plans to talk with gentleman from online dating site this afternoon. But first, will go for run and then start big cookie baking project.

1:30 p.m.: Finished running! Finished showering! Even shaved my legs! Hoorah! Am a responsible, productive adult and will continue doing important chores and creative ventures throughout day.

2:30 p.m.: Let’s see… Got these cookies all mixed up so they just need to pop in the fridge for a cool-down before baking. Roommate walks in and I tell her I’m baking cookies for the church marriage conference next week (v. selfless of me).

Selflessness continues with extra-thorough cleaning of house, including two bathrooms, several floors, and own room. Still counts as selfless even though I live here, right? Resolve to continue cleaning bathrooms weekly so they do not become scary, hair-filled, moldy disasters as in last house rented.

3:30 p.m.: Will bake cookies after gentleman from the Internet gives me a call. For now will just walk down to coffee shop for some free wi-fi. Beautiful walk. Best neighborhood ever!

Hm. Nothing interesting on the Internet. E-mail may not be working, as no new messages are in inbox. Phone also possibly not working, as has not rung all day. Look at phone: Appears to be in working order. Will go home and re-learn how to crochet while waiting for gentleman caller.

6:00 p.m.: Yes, this is absolutely best day ever. Sitting in my clean room with vanilla candle burning, relaxing on perfectly made bed making a lovely scarf. Do not actually remember how to crochet exactly, but confident it will turn out all right in the end (yarn is quite bulky so v. forgiving of mistakes). Let’s see, eight rows in… better hold it up and take a peek…

Gah! Scarf is not supposed to look like pregnant “S.” Should be straight and neat. Pull out four rows and leave on bed so can scrounge for some supper.

7:30 p.m. Phone rings! Is not technically “afternoon” anymore, but can forgive Internet gentleman for that. Oh, but: “Hi Alison! It’s Mom! Just calling to say hi. So anyway, what did you do today?” Talked to Mom for thirty minutes. Had planned to call her myself (resolve to be more attentive daughter) but wanted line free in case needed for online dating purposes.

Will randomly text half a dozen friends to stave off boredom.

8:00 p.m. Read several pages of First Kings. Continue to be confused by incident with Elisha and bears. Nonetheless, reading Bible and praying always v. good idea. Should probably have done before finishing Bridget Jones.

Friend calls. Discuss her online dating experiences in detail. Nothing to report on this end.

Hmm.. 8:45. Will just text Internet gentleman to let him know I’m still free.

8:50 p.m. No response.

Will complete urgent project of going through digital photos from last three months.

9:10 p.m. Still no response. Will just pop off to McDonald’s for some free wi-fi. (Side note – really would be more convenient to have Internet in house.) Should get salad as have not had anything un-cheesed or un-fried all day.

Oh, though. They have chocolate twist cones! Should get one as they are only $1 and will be nice cheap way to justify sitting in booth for an hour mooching wi-fi. Log into my online dating. Interesting dorky minister dude sent questions; will reply.

9:55 p.m. Phone still silent. Composed humorous haiku regarding sitting under freezing air conditioning while eating twist cone and posted on Facebook. Facebook did not appreciate, as still no response. Possible that “like” button not functioning tonight.

10:10 p.m. Was v. productive day! Did some cleaning! Went for a run! Attempted a creative venture! Does not matter that entire population of Internet males save one dorky minister dude, as well as Facebook audience at large, did not contact at all! (Feel sorry for all females not so understanding and self-assured). Am responsible, productive, attractive adult. Will go to bed at reasonable time. Will bake five batches of cookies on Thursday.


It's  Singleness Week on the blog!  Find the whole collection here.

#tammy

Having the perfect hashtag makes any situation better.  I would like to introduce all my single friends to two useful hashtags for all your singleness needs.

The first one is my very own creation: #reallifeinthetrenches

It was birthed a couple years ago when I attended a bridal shower where everyone was asked to give relationship advice to the bride-to-be.  I had none.  So I told them about my most recent dating experience, where I went out with a man who, days later, moved to the Arctic Circle for the rest of his life.  So the best advice I could offer was not to get relationship advice from me.  People laughed.  "This is real life," I told them.  "Real life in the trenches."

Can I suggest some real-life situations where you may find my hashtag helpful?

• At a wedding.  All your acquaintances there are married, except one single lady who was supposed to attend.  The bride thoughtfully seated you next to her.  But she had a family emergency and didn't come, so you sit at a table of couples next to the only empty chair in the house.  #reallifeinthetrenches
• On the eHarmony.  Your friend hijacks your profile to message a cute guy on her own behalf.  She accidentally clicks the box that says, "Alert me when So-and-So responds."  eHarmony immediately charges $7.99 to your credit card for its alerting service.  So-and-So never responds.  (You bought the service.  You would know.)  #reallifeinthetrenches
• In the kitchen.  Mousetrap snaps and a little rodent squeaks its last.  No one to clean that thing up but you.  #reallifeinthetrenches
• At the dinner table.  Someone mentions a mutual acquaintance she thinks is attractive.  You stop and do the math.  He is closer to age 12 than the ages of two thirds of the single women at the table.  #reallifeinthetrenches
• On the living room couch.  Your roommate is making brownies and walks in with a spoon for you to lick clean.  This literally just happened.  #reallifeinthetrenches

So maybe real life in the trenches is not all that bad. 

Anyway, the next hashtag requires a quote and a story.  One of my single friends did some volunteering a few months ago and got to know a lady named Tammy.  She ran into her a few months later, and Tammy had this to say:

"Girl, I know I recognize you.  How do I know you?!  Oh yeah!  You're that loud mouth girl that brings me food sometimes!!  You done put on some weight, girl!  What, like 20, 30 pounds?  Don't chu worry though, girl.  You were blessed by the good Lord with hips and an ass.  Let me see your stomach.  Yeah girl.  Here's what you do.  Knock 15 points off that body and the boys will come running.  You single?  Yeah... that's cause you let yourself get fat.  But don't worry.  Tammy got chu, girl."

As my friend said, "Tammy gives zero cares about my feelings."  We all agreed the world needs more people like Tammy.  Now when we come across prime singleness moments, we just say "#tammy."

Someone at work reminds you that you better start having kids soon if you ever want to have them?  #tammy

Run across some girl cursing out her bicycle because she doesn't have a boyfriend to curse out? #tammy

Ready to send out a stack of four RSVP cards, after writing four "one"s in a row?  #tammy

Once I texted my roommate in the midst of a stressful singleness situation and asked her to pray for me.  Her response?

Oh boy.  #reallifeinthetrenches

I think Tammy would approve.


It's  Singleness Week on the blog!  Find the whole collection here.

[Love Looks Like] Junk Mail and Zucchini Bread

Here's a favorite from the archives: An essay I wrote about a family visit a couple summers ago.

I read a blog where the writer has a series called “Love Looks Like.” She writes about her husband of fourteen years and the marriage they have built together. The writing is beautiful; the essays speak of tired and tender moments, the sacrifices they have made for each other, and the memories that keep them warm. They are college sweethearts enjoying the middle years of their marriage. Each post ends with the short explanation, “I write now and then about what love looks like for us.”

Tonight I read another one and thought, “What does love look like for me?”

I've been single my whole life.  So what does love look like for me? Love does not look like:

• Flowers at work on my birthday
• Online countdowns to my upcoming wedding, anniversary, or baby
• Flipping through old photo albums of my budding romance
• Planning my future with someone
• Building a family

Right now, love doesn’t look like any of the things I see in those wonderful blog essays. Yet, it seems that in spite of my current solidly single status, God had not intended me to live a solidly loveless life. Thank goodness.

This weekend my parents came down for a visit. The first thing my mom handed me when she got out of the car was a Tupperware of potato salad. No explanation was needed; Mom just likes to feed her kids. The salad was followed with a loaf of zucchini bread and an apology for forgetting to bring a few bags of frozen sweet corn.

They stayed the night, with my parents sleeping in my bedroom on my cheap (and only) set of sheets while I bunked on the couch. The next day we went downtown to the farmer’s market to carry out our mission of getting fresh flowers for my sister. The big event of the weekend was my sister’s “white coat” ceremony, which, in terms of length and excitement, reminded me of my college graduation years ago: badly pronounced names droning on as a steady stream of students walked smartly across the stage.

We went out to eat and then returned to the rental house I share with several friends. My dad had brought a rubber mallet to help me install some new hubcaps he helped me buy online. Mine keep falling off, even though I’m certain I haven’t driven into anything! He crouched beside my car in the 95-degree heat, moving a little slower than usual because of a few broken ribs that were still healing, and he helped me put on four new hubcaps.

Just before my parents left, my mom handed me a plastic bag filled with mass mailings addressed to me. I still get mail at my parents’ house even though it’s been over a decade since I lived there. My mom either stacks it on my dresser for when I come home or brings it to me if she sees me in between my visits. It was really nice to have an address to use for all my mail during a few years I lived overseas, which is probably why I yet haven’t gone to any great effort to get things re-directed to where I live now.

Tonight I’m thinking that love looks like a bag of junk mail and a loaf of zucchini bread sitting on my kitchen table at this very moment. (I’ve already eaten half the bread.)

Love looks like having a permanent address, even though I haven’t had a permanent home since I graduated from high school.

Love looks like my dad carefully tapping my plastic hubcap into place while my mom pulls the next one out of its sleeve and we all stop to wipe off the sweat condensing on our temples.

Love looks like sitting through a two-hour long ceremony so my sister has a white coat and family support for embarking on two years of physician assistant school.

Love looks like me getting a mediocre night’s sleep on my couch so my parents could have a mediocre night’s sleep on my bed, and it looks like the overly gracious “Thank you for you hospitality” e-mail that just appeared in my inbox from my mom.

It's  Singleness Week on the blog!  Find the whole collection here.

It's about to get real up in here... Real single.

Hi guys!  This month I have an article coming out in an e-magazine called Single Matters.  In celebration, I'm declaring it Singleness Week here on the blog.

The peril of writing about singleness is, of course, VULNERABILITY.

If I talk candidly about being a single woman in my thirties, what will you think of me??

Will you misunderstand me?
Will you feel sorry for me?
Will you think I'm kind of whiny?
Will you think I'm desperate?
Will you think my jokes are pathetic?
Will you buy me a household of cats?

So before we launch Singleness Week, I need you to not assume that I'm secretly depressed.  (I'm not.)  I need you laugh at my jokes.  (They'll be super funny.)  I need you to buy me only one cat.  (A calico.)

We good here?  OK, thanks.  Enjoy Singleness Week!  (Find the whole collection here.)