Feb 5, 2012

A visiting poet

Jeff Gundy will be conducting a workshop tomorrow, to which I was invited--hooray!--and will be giving two lectures, one a reading of his poetry, the other entitled "Songs from an Empty Cage: Some Notes on Theopoetics." I am excited to learn from him. Check out one of his poems:


Second Morning Song from Oneonta

So early the black flies are still asleep.
A high scruff of rock where lovers

carved their names and then slipped back
into the soft needles under the trees.

Already the valley hums and crackles
and the last rolls of mist hang over

the smokestacks like those fine scratches
that pile up on your glasses. God said,

the places you love will often
be difficult to find. God said, sweat

is a good sign but not reliable.
God said, hold this day like an egg,

hold and cherish it as you dream
of being touched yourself. Break the day

but gently as the great chef breaks eggs
for the dishes you cannot name or afford.

God says all this has been given you,
the whine of the crane and whirr of engines

pulling tired women to their bad jobs
and the drumlin where the last glacier

gave up its journey and grumbled away.
God says remember, God says
don't give up. God says give up.

Feb 3, 2012

I spend my evenings in Egypt

The air scented with cardamum, cinnamon, and coffee, a haunting melody sung in Arabic, lush, red fabrics draped over beautifully carved wooden furniture, a sponge in my hand and a pile of dirty dishes before me: I have the best college job one could possibly want (and possibly I am the only one who would love it, but I do). I get to wash dishes and tidy up a kitchen, polish furntiure, vaccuum, organize and sweep. Not only is this quite fun--and a luxurious break from homework--it's for a really kind woman from Egypt.

The first night I worked there, I forgot what continent I was on. The scent of foreign spices in the air, the constant sound of spoken and sung Arabic coming from either the television or conversations between my employer and her mother, and the gorgeous decoration of their home transported me far, far away from lowly Hillsdale, MI.

The first night I worked there, she explained to me in her pleasing accent what I was to do, and I set to work. She offered me dinner, but I had already eaten. I finished what I was to do a few minutes early, but that didn't phase her a bit. She went to her purse, paid me in cash and I was on my way. I hadn't made it to the door before she darted to her cupboard, peered around and grabbed a bag of almonds, "Do you like these?" My goodness! I love almonds and have been slowly enjoying the gift ever since. Another day it was a box of fresh strawberries--what a treat!

I am learning a lot about hospitality from her. Apparently, in Egypt it is considered rude to ask someone if they would care to eat: you just put food down in front of them. The reason for this being that in the past, one would have to travel a long distance to arrive anywhere and therefore would certainly be hungry. Asking someone if they'd like to eat signals an unwillingness on the part of the host. Needless to say, I have had a few delicious meals over the last couple of weeks.

In these waning college days, and the hopes (though not my own) of a "ring by spring," I should probably make my friends aware of a requirement: perfect coffee making. In Egypt, when a man is to marry, he visits the homes of a few elegible girls with his mother, and perhaps other family members. They arrive at the girl's house and she must serve the mother, and likely the son, the perfect cup of Turkish coffee. I now know how to make that! So useful, I know. It is delicious, with the finely ground coffee settling to the bottom of the cup with the rich, dark froth on top.

Now if you pass the coffee test and get married, beware if you burn the food you prepare for him! He may just send you back to your family and if you learn to cook and he forgives you, he may just take you back.

What a perspective on the duties of women! "The Nature and History of Manhood" class that I'm taking examines the duties of men and women in American society: this burning food concept is pretty foreign.

This is a direct answer to prayer and I couldn't have imagined a better job. I'm thankful.

Jan 7, 2012

Sometimes I yell to hear the echo
Its muted voice
confirming my solitude.
Remaining silent,
I could deceive myself
But the stillness would likely smother me
So I yell.
Pronouncing my being,
both its pain and purpose.
Affirming my lungs.
The voice urges me homeward.

Turn to me and be gracious to me,
         
For I am lonely and afflicted. 
    
The troubles of my heart are enlarged;
         
Bring me out of my distresses.
                                        Psalm 25:16-17



From September, 2010.

Jan 4, 2012

Still dabbling in poetry


John 14:1

Let us consider that he may
not have been taller than my brother, nor stronger than
your father. The
heart is his battleground yet.
Be still, you of
troubled minds.
Believe.

Dec 28, 2011

Life Magazine 1956 -- "Operation Auca"

The Life magazine article from January 1956 about the spearing martyrdom of Jim Elliot, Nate Saint, Roger Youderian, Peter Fleming and Edward McCully in the Amazon jungles of Ecuador. I had wanted to see this and finally came across it:

'Go Ye and Preach the Gospel' Five Do and Die