I’m a sucker for nostalgia. I’ve always been moved by places, or remembrances, or scents, or sounds that transport me to another place and another time; usually a better one. When Granny Spurgeon died a few Februaries ago, I flew out to Oregon to say goodbye and share emotions with my family. In the rental car, during the drive from Portland to Gold Beach, I was overwhelmed by the sights and sounds on the Umpqua River, and over Humbug Mountain near Port Orford. So much green. Huge old myrtles, heavily mossed, down the river roads, made me remember Granny with a depth and poignancy that I would have never experienced if I were left to mourn her passing in Virginia.
I love you guys. Have I mentioned that?
I’m worthless at work today. I decided to treat myself to a day of escape, after the events yesterday. For those of you who don’t read my blog, or who read it while you’re asleep, I’m referring to the “official” demise of my alma mater, Bethany University. The meeting was live-streamed. Judi watched the event. I couldn’t bear to see the thing. Continue reading I Need a Break.
Last Monday, my alma mater announced it was closing its doors because it couldn’t afford to keep the lights on anymore. It had struggled for decades with financial instability, going so far as trying (in the early 1990s) to sell the entire campus and move 200 miles to Sacramento. Continue reading A Straw Man, Pilloried, is Still Only a Scarecrow
What can I say that would add to the thousands of posts about my alma mater, Bethany Bible College? Its Alumni site on Facebook has been inundated since last Friday (June 10, 2011), with every manner of lament, reminiscence, epithet, query, and joke. Its origins and problems have been scrubbed over a washboard and re-examined like a soot-covered shirt, and then vigorously cleansed a second time. Emotions run the scale from laughing, angry, crying, and hurt. It’s like a block party, with 1600 people, only nobody’s serving potato salad and barbecue ribs. Continue reading The Big Goodbye
I’ve never reblogged before, but it felt important. This symphony has its fingers all over my mood today, one of pain and reflection, and a little hope, as I received the news last night of the death of a 92-year-old friend.
Górecki’s 3rd is simply stunning. I’ve listened to it dozens of times over the years. Maybe I discovered it then because God knew I needed to hear it today. Continue reading Górecki’s Symphony No. 3 (Symphony of Sorrowful Songs) (via Dover Beach)
I stare in awe at the slate-gray sky this morning. The trees are newly-green. Just two weeks ago, they’d have been more twigs than leaves. It’s late April, and I just got news that over 100 people have died in the tornadoes that plowed through Alabama. They are truly magnificent, dangerous weather phenomena, and it sounds like, from all accounts, they will be visiting Northern Virginia this morning. Continue reading I Feel the Earth Move Under My Feet
Today I no longer want to think about openings, or closings, or doorways. It seems that my mind occupies itself with matters of passages recently and it’s tough for me to get the concept out of my head. Passageways are scary places: leaving your comfort, and embarking into the unknown.
Later today, Bethany will remain open. Or it will close. Either way, there will be a gateway to pass through: a future. Hey, folks. Future is good. Bethany or no Bethany, God is in control. God is good. The future is bright. Continue reading Passing through