Edge of Your Seat Fun for All Ages

You've played it before... ever-so-carefully removing a wooden block from low in the structure and replacing it on top. In college, we turned it into a drinking game: each block had some silly "truth or dare" or an amount of alcohol you were supposed to imbibe written on it in sharpy, and if you knocked the tower over, you had to kill your drink. Ah, Jenga... you've brought joy to umm... thousands(?).

As I was killing time on Amazon at work one day last week, I came across my next fictional indulgence: Lucky Dog by Mark Barrowcliffe. I love being able to preview the first few pages of the book before I commit to buying it. Granted, you can't always judge a book by chapter 1, but it at least gives you an idea. As I was reading the introductory pages of Lucky Dog, I ran across something that gave me pause, and is finally resulting in this post on the blog. The main character's mother has just been buried (earlier in the day):

"I could have done with a break that afternoon, from difficulties, from stress, from other people's problems and from my own. God, however, occasionally plays Jenga with our souls, seeing how much he can challenge the foundations of our beings before they collapse."

Jenga with my soul, indeed. I have always known that God has a very silly, sometimes twisted sense of humor. And I, having a sense of humor of my own, have come to appreciate God's little jokes. Unfortunately for me, my patience is wearing a bit thin. Most of it's in my head, I'm sure, but it appears that nothing in my life these days makes sense. Am I doing what I'm supposed to be doing? Was it wrong to move to Boston? Should I have taken that middle-management gig at my office (...sorry... I just vomited a bit in my mouth... better now...)? Uncertainty... I hate it. It causes the OCD tendencies of my personality to overwhelm the rest of me. It makes me not a nice person.

I feel like this is the point where the only piece left to remove is one of the center blocks about halfway up the tower. *Tap* it moves a bit. *Tap tap* almost out...

I think I should switch to Operation... or Hungry Hungry Hippos. Then again, maybe Chutes and Ladders is more in my wheelhouse these days.

Alleluia! The strife is o'er

"Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away; for lo, the winter is past,

the rain is over and gone; the flowers appear upon the earth;

the time of the singing birds is come." -Song of Songs 2:10-12

I cannot describe to you how happy I am that it's Easter (aside from the fact that no store in the Boston Metro area has a single Cadbury Cream Egg and that it is supposed to snow later this week...). Normally, I love Lent. A strange sentiment, I know, but I think the introspective, self-examining nature of Lent usually suits me. But this year, Lent has been tough on me. Maybe it was a bit of Seasonal Affective Disorder wreaking havoc with my neurotransmitters or something, but life has been very dark for me these last 40 days (plus Sundays). Unfortunately for me, I feel like I fell into the trap this year, that makes an idol of penance. I got so caught up in my own wretchedness and self-denial, that I ended up throwing a month-long pity-party.

The term 'Lent' is from an Old English word for "lengthen." It indicates the lengthening of daylight hours that coincides with the buildup to Easter and spring in the Northern Hemisphere. As I walked the pilgrim way of Lent, I managed to ignore the building light, both figuratively as we approached the Resurrection and literally as the Vernal Equinox came and went. My own navel-gazing and self-indulgence (which is really contrary to the aim of Lent, isn't it?) prevented me from actually growing during the experience.

The good news is: I finally snapped out of it. It took my washing the feet of 1/3 of the Maundy Thursday congregation, spending the night in church and walking the stations of the cross with about 30 kids, and standing with my new friends as they were baptized and confirmed at the Easter Vigil to remind me what I was supposed to be doing all along.

Alleluia! Christ is risen!

The Lord is risen indeed! Alleluia!!