It has been several weeks since we last posted (which is a euphemistic way of saying it's been over a month). However, our readers can rest assured, "no news is good news." To say it another way, good news is unknown news, simply because there has been so much happening, I haven't found the time to tell about it. But now I have. So here goes.
What has happened in the last 40 days?
The last post left me in a state of sick stupor. I am happy to say, that subsided, and I have been quite healthy since. But the story that goes with that is worth telling.
During the summer, of course, we had one family we nannied for, but there is another family that we have nannied for since. The kids' names are Sam (who's in 3rd grade) and Sarah (who's in Kindergarten). The Saturday before I got sick, we were babysitting them while their parents went out. When it was the kids' bedtime, Jill and I went to check on them to make sure they were getting ready for bed. When I stepped into the bathroom to see if Sam was brushing his teeth, he was on the floor, crawling. "There's a lizard!" he said. Sure enough, a tiny, orange-ish lizard was clinging to the counter underneath the sink. So, Sam and I made several attempts to catch him with a Dixie cup, until finally, I caught him. Well, I caught most of him. Unfortunately, I think I knocked the tip of his tail off, which was left behind wriggling and writhing on the bathroom floor. Sam thought that was cool.
We put another cup over the cup we'd caught the lizard in, Sam brushed his teeth, and I put him to bed. As he lied down to go to sleep, he said with enthusiasm, "I'm going to catch bugs tomorrow to feed him!" Jill and I then watched TV (one of the perks of the job) until the parents returned, and then we left. I found out later that the lizard had escaped the next morning, which isn't surprising...Dixie cups apparently don't make very good cages.
The next weekend, we were supposed to take care of the kids that Saturday, too, but since I was sick (and Jill was starting to feel sick), we told them we couldn't. And it worked out, because apparently Sam had become sick as well (with something unrelated). Their parents told us later, however, that when Sam had discovered I had become sick, too, he asked them, "you think maybe the lizard got us sick?"
Taking care of the kids has been delightful, and while Jill is usually the one to do it after school, I get to help sometimes. On one such occasion, Jill and I had the opportunity to pick up Sam and 3 of his soccer teammates in their SUV, dropping them off at their respective houses all around the Highland Park area of Dallas. It was almost surreal having 4 boys (and Sarah) in the backseat singing goofy YouTube parodies of Lady Gaga and Ke$ha at the top of their lungs. I guess I know now what it feels like to be a soccer mom...
Now for DTS.
Orientation was fascinating. Having taken courses online last semester, it was strange seeing professors I felt like I knew. Dr. Bailey (the President of DTS) taught the online course of Bible Study Methods I had taken, and when he stood up at the podium to welcome us to DTS, I felt at home--except that I'd never met him before. It's a very odd feeling being happy to see someone you haven't ever actually met.
I experienced this "celebrity-professor" sensation many times throughout the first few weeks, seeing face-to-face the professors I'd experienced only online. In one of the first chapels, I found myself sitting two rows away from the podium while Chuck Swindoll spoke on the challenges of seminary. But it was an ironic message for what I was experiencing. He talked about how there might be somewhat of a "disappointment" for some of us now that we're here--because it's beginning to sink in that these "hallowed" professors are human, too. And he's right. Since I've been here, I haven't seen any burning bushes around campus. Nobody walks on water in the fountain. And water doesn't automatically turn into wine (I'm pretty sure there isn't supposed to be wine on campus, anyway). We are all human, here--even Chuck Swindoll--and it's fascinating to see how such "disappointment" can turn your eyes to God. We're on an even plain before Him (and I'm not just talking about the Texas landscape), none of us any higher--or lower--than anyone else. It's humbling, really.
Humbling...that's a good word for the experience thus far. Almost as soon as class set in, I remembered how intensive this all can be. I've already carefully yet swiftly read I and II Samuel, I and II Kings, and I and II Chronicles (yeah--Chronicles!), made an Old Testament Chronology Chart, and completed several other books, assignments, and quizzes. And that doesn't include the things I'm supposed to have done by now (none of which is due...yet).
My head is still above water, however. And I am making good grades (that O.T. Chart was 30% of my grade...and somehow I got a 100 on it. Which is weird. I did it the week it was due...and guessed on some of the information). One of my hardest classes, however, is creative writing. In some ways, this doesn't surprise me. I haven't done the hard task of pouring myself out on the page for others to see for awhile--not since 2007, really. And yet, at the same time, I've been yearning to get full-fledged back into writing ever since then. Now that I have, it's hard--but that excites me. I'm discovering things about writing I never knew before! And I'm reminded over and over again just how much I love it! (For your reading pleasure, I've included two of my writings at the conclusion of this post).
God continues to be very good to us. One of the biggest blessings is the community we're discovering here. Through a connection at her school, Jill has found a Bible study that meets here in Swiss Tower and merges all 3 of our "worlds" here in Dallas: The group is established by Northwest Bible Church (where we attend), including people from DTS (school) and from Cambridge (work). And these people are quickly becoming some very good friends--we've already had several get-togethers. Jill is thrilled with the level of community she's finding at work, as well--she had an "all-school retreat" this week, and she told me how freeing it was, riding back with her fellow faculty simply discussing passages from the book of Romans. And for me, my "spiritual formation" group has started. Spiritual Formation at DTS is a two-year (four semester) small group to provide a context outside of the classroom for spiritual growth and fellowship. I have 6 other guys that I meet with every Thursday to discuss how we're growing spiritually and how to pray for each other.
On the flip-side of all this, however, I've just now begun to realize something about city-life that I hadn't realized at first. When we moved here, I didn't think much about the fact that we didn't know people. I expected that. What I didn't expect is that, even after living here three months, I still don't know the majority of people here. I don't think I expected to know everybody, and yet, I'm not sure I even really considered it, coming from a place (The King's Academy) where I did know everyone (or at least most everyone). But, of course, it isn't completely possible here--even in our apartment building. I had an ideal in my mind of what apartment community would be like, and it's just now started to hit me that I don't even know everyone who lives on our floor, let alone the other 9 floors in the building. Which is to say nothing of the countless people who commute to DTS--or go to Northwest Bible Church. It just intrigues me to realize that I don't know everyone here--not even half of them--and I probably never will. Interacting with people this way is something I, the East Tennessee home-body, am having to learn. But I am learning. And it's fascinating!
That's about it for now. Oh, but here's two samples of my wordplay I promised you:
To Write
To write is might—to write what's wrong, and what makes right—to write a song,
To take the notes of life in time—the ones lived short, the ones prolonged—
The discord, rhythm, noise, and flow; the crashing gongs, the crescendo;
The dark descent of sudden strength; the movement New, beginning slow—
From entropy, cacophony, to melody, to harmony:
An old refrain, remade, renewed—to feel, to taste, to hear, to see—
To contemplate, to orchestrate, to fall in love and out of hate,
To meet with God, to search for Christ, to rendezvous your faith with fate,
To take a pen up in your hand, to tap your wand upon the stand,
To raise your arms, to hear the pause, to hold your breath in silence grand,
And then release the prisoned bird; the noise dispelled, the beauty heard:
To write the might of life in time—a symphony, the written word.
Cavatica’s Catch
A sudden shock of suspension and the fly turns frantic in a frozen flail. Caught, stuck, doomed in the silky, sticky symmetry, the heart of the captive races at the speed of the silent scurry approaching. The delicately sinister lady nabs the panicked prey and thwips it about until cocooned. With a prick and a plunge, she feeds her liqueur down her syringe, then sips and slurps and sucks. As the tangy whiff of death fuels her hunger, she spins the corpse in her wet, nubby fingers and drains the dregs from the vacant shell. And as she swallows the silent, liquid heart, she swiftly returns to weaving the recent writing for her friend: the letters S-O-M-E-P-I-G.
