I took a walk this morning down by the lake. It's the highest I've ever seen it -- such a contrast to the dry lake bed of just a few months ago!
[Why does my cursor look like it's going back to the beginning of the paragraph I just wrote, rather than scrolling down to where it finally appears once I start typing a new paragraph?]
[As you can see, I'm feeling deeply philosophical this morning.]
On my walk this morning my mind was a jumble of thoughts. About things happening in our little body of believers. What color I'd like to paint the study and laundry room in Sta. Rosa once the roof is fixed. Thinking that I need to print out the next lesson on Romans that I'm doing through Women of the Harvest (they're on to another study now, but I preferred to go back and do Romans). Wondering what we can fix for lunch. And supper. Without having to go to the store. I need to ask Ivan when we can plant our winter garden. Trying to decide if it is safe to store away window fans.
[That weird cursor thing is very distracting.]
I've started my list for Cordoba since tomorrow is the day for our monthly marathon. We didn't have time to do much last month -- the day we went in, we spent 90% of it getting our D.N.I.s handled. I'm thinking we may need to lower our expectations because I don't see how we can get through everything on the list. Maybe focus on the things we need to do together and leave the rest for Ivan on another day.
We've settled on Wednesday afternoons for the English conversation group. Spanish is Tuesdays and Thursdays. By May I'd like to offer either a class on cooking or quilting, but I have to figure out where I can best fit it in. AND decide which it will be. Cooking would be easier and take less preparation, which is appealing at this point.
I'm reading A Circle of Quiet by Madeleine L'Engle in which she states that our children have a "passionate need for the dimension of transcendence", but that "the tendency of churches to be relevant and more-secular-than-thou" does not answer this need. Then she quotes George Tyrrell, a Jesuit priest (1861-1909) who I'd probably disagree with on most things but I think he's spot on with this statement:
If [man's] craving for the mysterious, the wonderful, the supernatural, be not fed on true religion, it will feed itself on the garbage of any superstition that is offered to it."the garbage of any superstition" We certainly see that here. What's funny (not haha funny, but weird funny) is that so many take a mix of New Age thought, throw in ideas from various 'religions' and cults and create a big pot of "stew" that forms their belief system. No matter what you say you believe, people will agree with you. But they'll also agree with half a dozen others with totally conflicting sets of ideas.
It reminded me of how a college student responded when our pastor in Michigan asked why they came all the way out to our country church, by-passing many other churches on the way. The student replied that our church preached the Word of God, unadorned and without pretense; there was no "fluff".
[Obviously that jumble of thoughts has continued long after my walk this morning.]
[But that's okay, because this is Monday "meanderings".]
[Now I'm going to meander to the washer and proceed to hang out a load of clothes.]
[And hopefully the cursor will behave itself the next time I want to post.]