This post has been marinating in my brain for several months now; no doubt it will end up saying less than I wish.
But, given that my fellow 2010 MA Publishing students officially graduate tomorrow, my thoughts again return to England and Oxford, and I have to admit that I'm homesick. That's not to say I don't enjoy Colorado and my work here. On the contrary--lately I've started taking walks in the evenings when I get home from work, and the beauty of the Rockies makes me stop and stare every time. The crisp air tinged with woodsmoke. The fleeting sight of deer running like shadows over a neighbor's lawn. The rugged, undiluted Western beauty of this place cannot be denied.
It is still not home, though. Even when I was in England, I tried to figure out what made me love it so much. The best way I can describe it is peace between you and your surroundings. It's almost as if that place has a personality, that it understands you, reaches out and touches you.
Recently I read a question in a book-discussion guide. It asked if you would be willing to die to defend a piece of land. Would it be your country? State? The home you grew up in?
I've been listening to The Grapes of Wrath on CD as I drive to and from work, and Steinbeck's description of the land...the land your ancestors have bled and died on, the land you've worked with your bare hands, that has fed you and your family...that is land you will fight and die for. That land is part of you.
I guess the closest thing I have to that is Oxford.
Friday, April 15, 2011
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Motivation
I know, two posts in two days...what is the world coming to?
But I feel strangely motivated to write. No doubt this will be short-lived...but here's one thing I hope is not.
Tonight I went to a discussion group hosted by a few members of the Anglican church I started going to a couple months ago. The group is loosely based around the books Radical by David Platt and Christianity Beyond Belief by Todd Hunter. I found this time immensely refreshing on several levels. Following a challenge from David Platt, several people in the group are reading through the Bible in one year.
So I decided I want to try. There's several reasons, probably, but foremost is that I am not doing a very good job without a plan. Last night I spent about thirty minutes reading Gods and Generals and about thirty seconds glancing at the Psalms before I decided to go to sleep. Also, and this is slightly concerning to me, but I am the sort of person who likes lists and plans. I like getting a syllabus at the start of a class--marking off the reading chapters, knowing exactly how much I have to accomplish and when in order to reach a goal. Now I readily admit that is often a weakness. You can't chart out a relationship, especially with God, in this way--ticking off chapters is no sign of real commitment or change. But even relationships have their disciplines and habits. And I've neglected this one long enough.
So here's to motivation, and the chronological reading plan I'm starting...now.
But I feel strangely motivated to write. No doubt this will be short-lived...but here's one thing I hope is not.
Tonight I went to a discussion group hosted by a few members of the Anglican church I started going to a couple months ago. The group is loosely based around the books Radical by David Platt and Christianity Beyond Belief by Todd Hunter. I found this time immensely refreshing on several levels. Following a challenge from David Platt, several people in the group are reading through the Bible in one year.
So I decided I want to try. There's several reasons, probably, but foremost is that I am not doing a very good job without a plan. Last night I spent about thirty minutes reading Gods and Generals and about thirty seconds glancing at the Psalms before I decided to go to sleep. Also, and this is slightly concerning to me, but I am the sort of person who likes lists and plans. I like getting a syllabus at the start of a class--marking off the reading chapters, knowing exactly how much I have to accomplish and when in order to reach a goal. Now I readily admit that is often a weakness. You can't chart out a relationship, especially with God, in this way--ticking off chapters is no sign of real commitment or change. But even relationships have their disciplines and habits. And I've neglected this one long enough.
So here's to motivation, and the chronological reading plan I'm starting...now.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Light
Candles are forbidden in dorm rooms. On both sides of the Atlantic.
So in the last few months, after moving into a real house, I've been making up for lost time. Early in December I bought one of those evergreen-scented candles, one of my few attempts at Christmas decorating.
I've been in the process of settling into a new room, and along with a bedspread and bookshelf, I bought a candle that I burn nearly every night when I get home. What's interesting to me, though, is why a little flame in a glass jar is so appealing to the modern homemaker/newly hatched college student. It serves almost no practical purpose. My bedside lamp provides all the light I need, and if I want my room to smell like sandalwood, I can buy Febreze and not bother with matches and lingering hints of sulfur.
Why the entire aisles devoted to candles? Like a real wood fire, why do they mean cozy, romantic, comforting ... even mysterious?
Is it nostalgia--a longing for a past time? Yet I'm sure none of us seriously want to go back to lighting our homes with oil lamps. If it is nostalgia, it is very confined. Odd how the old-fashioned things become luxuries ... candles are far less efficient than light bulbs. Baking bread costs more than buying it. And don't get me started on ebooks.
We'll move past the 40-watt bulbs, too. But even then I doubt they'll gain the allure of the candle. There's something about the living flame.
So in the last few months, after moving into a real house, I've been making up for lost time. Early in December I bought one of those evergreen-scented candles, one of my few attempts at Christmas decorating.
I've been in the process of settling into a new room, and along with a bedspread and bookshelf, I bought a candle that I burn nearly every night when I get home. What's interesting to me, though, is why a little flame in a glass jar is so appealing to the modern homemaker/newly hatched college student. It serves almost no practical purpose. My bedside lamp provides all the light I need, and if I want my room to smell like sandalwood, I can buy Febreze and not bother with matches and lingering hints of sulfur.
Why the entire aisles devoted to candles? Like a real wood fire, why do they mean cozy, romantic, comforting ... even mysterious?
Is it nostalgia--a longing for a past time? Yet I'm sure none of us seriously want to go back to lighting our homes with oil lamps. If it is nostalgia, it is very confined. Odd how the old-fashioned things become luxuries ... candles are far less efficient than light bulbs. Baking bread costs more than buying it. And don't get me started on ebooks.
We'll move past the 40-watt bulbs, too. But even then I doubt they'll gain the allure of the candle. There's something about the living flame.
Saturday, November 6, 2010
Hello, Wild West
The new blog design reflects a similarly drastic change in my own surroundings.
A week ago I left Washington State (after only about 20 days at home) for a new job in Colorado Springs. It's with a Christian publisher called David C Cook, and truly, I could not have designed a more ideal "first job." It's exactly what I've wanted to do ever since I was 15 and discovered the world called publishing. In many ways, it's the culmination of many years of study, both as an English major at Grove City College, and my somewhat strategic pursuit of a Digital Publishing MA at Oxford Brookes.
I'm overwhelmed with how quickly God brought me to this next stage, and how He continues to demonstrate His absolute and intimate knowledge of me. Of course the transition was hard -- I expected to have several months back in Washington to catch up with friends I hadn't seen since I left for England. But in other ways I think this is for the best.
Sitting at my desk this week, I had to laugh when I realized that I am being paid to read and edit books all day. And not just any books -- books that have a deeper purpose than the publisher's profit line or tuning out the world for a few hours. Of course there's nothing intrinsically wrong with those things, but it is deeply satisfying to know these books have the potential to communicate the love and truth of Christ, to transform their readers.
And maybe their copy editors.
A week ago I left Washington State (after only about 20 days at home) for a new job in Colorado Springs. It's with a Christian publisher called David C Cook, and truly, I could not have designed a more ideal "first job." It's exactly what I've wanted to do ever since I was 15 and discovered the world called publishing. In many ways, it's the culmination of many years of study, both as an English major at Grove City College, and my somewhat strategic pursuit of a Digital Publishing MA at Oxford Brookes.
I'm overwhelmed with how quickly God brought me to this next stage, and how He continues to demonstrate His absolute and intimate knowledge of me. Of course the transition was hard -- I expected to have several months back in Washington to catch up with friends I hadn't seen since I left for England. But in other ways I think this is for the best.
Sitting at my desk this week, I had to laugh when I realized that I am being paid to read and edit books all day. And not just any books -- books that have a deeper purpose than the publisher's profit line or tuning out the world for a few hours. Of course there's nothing intrinsically wrong with those things, but it is deeply satisfying to know these books have the potential to communicate the love and truth of Christ, to transform their readers.
And maybe their copy editors.
Friday, September 17, 2010
Goodbyes
With a sigh
You turn away
With a deepening heart
No words to say
You will find
That the world has changed forever
The trees are now turning from green to gold
And the sun is now fading
I wish I could hold you closer
(Howard Shore, "Arwen's Song")
You turn away
With a deepening heart
No words to say
You will find
That the world has changed forever
The trees are now turning from green to gold
And the sun is now fading
I wish I could hold you closer
(Howard Shore, "Arwen's Song")
Monday, August 16, 2010
The End is Near
In just over two weeks I will hand in my major project and freedom will commence. After spending most of July and the first part of August locked in the computer lab, I'm pleased the ebook files I've created are working! Earlier today I was able to read one of them on an iPad...very gratifying.
I'll be leaving England and flying back to Seattle on September 20th...a bittersweet prospect. But I have most of September to say my goodbyes and pack in as much travelling as possible, including just over a week in Ireland. I'm going to take a two-day horseback riding trip around the Dingle Peninsula, then spend a few days in Dublin, Belfast, and surrounding areas.
On the day I fly out, I will have spent exactly a year and a day in England. Oxford will never again be just a word on a page -- I know it now. And part of me will never really leave -- or maybe it's better to say part of it will never leave me. You can never really go back once you've been so touched, so changed by a place. Although changed might not be the right word. Renewed, reborn, restored to what I thought was lost and dead.
Before I left the States I wrote a post about time and how it puts more distance between me and my best memories while carrying me into unknown trials. In those months I dimly guessed that there might be good things ahead, but in my mind they would never live up to what was gone. If only I could have known how every joy of the old days would be swallowed up and fulfilled in what lay ahead.
I will not fear time again. It might bear me away from Oxford, but I'm still on my way home.
Switchfoot says it better.
I'll be leaving England and flying back to Seattle on September 20th...a bittersweet prospect. But I have most of September to say my goodbyes and pack in as much travelling as possible, including just over a week in Ireland. I'm going to take a two-day horseback riding trip around the Dingle Peninsula, then spend a few days in Dublin, Belfast, and surrounding areas.
On the day I fly out, I will have spent exactly a year and a day in England. Oxford will never again be just a word on a page -- I know it now. And part of me will never really leave -- or maybe it's better to say part of it will never leave me. You can never really go back once you've been so touched, so changed by a place. Although changed might not be the right word. Renewed, reborn, restored to what I thought was lost and dead.
Before I left the States I wrote a post about time and how it puts more distance between me and my best memories while carrying me into unknown trials. In those months I dimly guessed that there might be good things ahead, but in my mind they would never live up to what was gone. If only I could have known how every joy of the old days would be swallowed up and fulfilled in what lay ahead.
I will not fear time again. It might bear me away from Oxford, but I'm still on my way home.
Switchfoot says it better.
Sunday, July 11, 2010
From the Trenches
Apologies again for the long break.
The July sunshine is streaming through my window, making my keyboard hot to the touch. People who say it rains all the time in England obviously haven't lived here in the summer. It has been an idyllic one with long hot days and peaceful nights. Last week was the 4th of July, which obviously isn't recognized over here by the Brits, but nonetheless there was a carnival in a nearby park that some American friends and I co-opted for our own celebration.
Most of my time is now consumed with my major project (on ebook construction) and job hunting. Both are draining and frustrating processes at times. I've had to confront my various reasons for wanting to stay in the UK and the practical/emotional call of returning to the States. All that to say I still don't know where I will be living in two months, which is definitely a new experience for me -- so used to having life planned out months/years ahead. It's an exercise in trust and remembering the thousand ways God has proven His love and care over the years. How can I not trust that the same Father who brought me here to Oxford will lead me to the next phase of the adventure?
Last year I received a special graduation gift from some dear friends -- a book of Puritan prayers called The Valley of Vision. Various passages from this book have spoken to me over the months, but today I wanted to share the end of a prayer called "Contrition."
"In all my affairs may I distinguish between
duty and anxiety,
and may my character and not my
circumstances chiefly engage me."
That prayer reflects the same desire that awoke in me when I read this description of Brother Lawrence in Practicing the Presence of of God (find a copy and read it!) :
"He was neither hasty nor loitering, but did each thing in its season, with an even, uninterrupted composure and tranquility of spirit."
That's what I hope to do and be in my (possibly) last few weeks in Oxford...and with the rest of my life.
The July sunshine is streaming through my window, making my keyboard hot to the touch. People who say it rains all the time in England obviously haven't lived here in the summer. It has been an idyllic one with long hot days and peaceful nights. Last week was the 4th of July, which obviously isn't recognized over here by the Brits, but nonetheless there was a carnival in a nearby park that some American friends and I co-opted for our own celebration.
Most of my time is now consumed with my major project (on ebook construction) and job hunting. Both are draining and frustrating processes at times. I've had to confront my various reasons for wanting to stay in the UK and the practical/emotional call of returning to the States. All that to say I still don't know where I will be living in two months, which is definitely a new experience for me -- so used to having life planned out months/years ahead. It's an exercise in trust and remembering the thousand ways God has proven His love and care over the years. How can I not trust that the same Father who brought me here to Oxford will lead me to the next phase of the adventure?
Last year I received a special graduation gift from some dear friends -- a book of Puritan prayers called The Valley of Vision. Various passages from this book have spoken to me over the months, but today I wanted to share the end of a prayer called "Contrition."
"In all my affairs may I distinguish between
duty and anxiety,
and may my character and not my
circumstances chiefly engage me."
That prayer reflects the same desire that awoke in me when I read this description of Brother Lawrence in Practicing the Presence of of God (find a copy and read it!) :
"He was neither hasty nor loitering, but did each thing in its season, with an even, uninterrupted composure and tranquility of spirit."
That's what I hope to do and be in my (possibly) last few weeks in Oxford...and with the rest of my life.
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