In verse 25 Mark introduces the bleeding woman by describing her as a woman with a “flow of blood.” The Greek noun used for the word “flow” here is ῥύσις (rhu’-sis), which has a connotation of defilement and uncleanness. This word is etymologically related to the words ῥυόω (rhu-ah’-oh), meaning “to defile, make dirty, or pollute,” and ῥύπος (rhu’-poss), meaning “the refuse part of soil, uncleanness, foul dark juice.” Later in verse 29, however, Mark uses a completely different noun for “flow.” Here, πηγή (pay-gay’) plainly means “spring, fountain.” There is absolutely no sense of defilement, uncleanness. What is fascinating is that the flow is given a different noun after the woman touches Jesus’ cloak. Mark’s change in vocabulary mimics the exact same immediate purification that the woman herself received. The woman was immediately made clean, and if there was any doubt about it, Mark solidifies it with his vocabulary.

Another fascinating element in the Greek was the verb for “touch” in verse 27, ἅπτω (hop’-tow). While this verb can generically refer to simple touch or physical contact, it is also the very same verb used repeatedly in the gospels to refer to miraculous healing. The BDAG Greek Lexicon (the “authoritative” dictionary for New Testament and Early Christian Greek) specifically gives a definition for ἅπτω as “touch as a means of conveying a blessing” or healing. Usually when this sort of healing scenario occurs in the New Testament, it is the healer who does the touching. Here, however, the healee, the bleeding woman, is the one who does the touching. It is an explicit reversal of the typical healing picture. Furthermore, in Jewish culture when an unclean person touches a clean person, it unambiguously defiles the clean person. This is absolutely not the case in this scene. The unclean woman touches Jesus, but rather than Jesus himself being defiled, Jesus’ overwhelming cleanness reverses the defilement. Not only is he not defiled, the power flows in the opposite, unnatural direction and un-defiles the woman! This is the very image of death and corruption being reversed.

Later in the same passage about the woman realizes that Jesus is absolutely aware of the healing touch, and that she cannot hide from him. Verse 33 describes her as φοβηθεῖσα καὶ τρέμουσα (fo-bay-thay’-suh kye trem’-oo-suh), “fearing and trembling” because she knew what had happened to her. Fascinatingly, these are the same exact verbs Paul used when he entreated the Philippians to “work out” their salvation! Philippians 2:12 uses the words φόβου καὶ τρόμου (foe’-boo kye trah’-moo), “fear and trembling” to describe the working-out of salvation. Could not this be what the bleeding woman was doing at this point in the narrative? It seems that rather than truly dreading the consequences of her action, the participles of Mark 5:33 actually indicate that the woman has the right heart before God, and in a sense, is working out her salvation.

Finally, turning to the portion of the narrative in which Jesus brings Jarius’ daughter back to life, it is critical to realize that in verse 42 when Mark says the girl “rose up,” he uses the verb ἀνέστη (ahn-ess’-tay). In early Christian literature this verb carries the very specific and heavy connotation of the Resurrection of Jesus Christ.  This verb does not appear anywhere earlier in the gospel of Mark.  Jarius' daughter, therefore, is actually the first person “resurrected” in the gospel!

Now to review what all of the above implies: Mark 5 tells of two women—one older, one younger—who are the first people to singlehandedly experience physical representation of the holistic Christian hope. The bleeding woman experiences Redemption, in the sense that her impurity and her affliction is reversed merely by touching and grasping at the fringes of Jesus’ being. The young girl experiences the Resurrection, in the sense that she is raised up from the most hopeless and irreparable situation.

So what then is significant about this passage? The very first instances of Redemption and Resurrection in Mark’s Gospel (which is also believed to be the earliest written gospel in the New Testament canon) were experienced by WOMEN! Additionally, these women themselves bookend the two extremities of life—youth and old age. Men function only as onlookers. What does all this mean? I cannot be certain, but it is nonetheless intriguing for the history of women in Christianity.

Furthermore, the “chiasmic structure” (i.e., starting with one story, then starting another, ending the second story, then finally ending the first) of this event inextricably relates the two into one event or action. Redemption and Resurrection are two but one. And as the word “chiasmic” suggests, the structure resembles the Greek letter “chi,” which is essentially a big X, two lines crossed. Whether or not Mark intended it, the structure indeed vaguely mimics a cross…which begs the question of whether this story may foreshadow the Cross itself, where Redemption and Resurrection for all are actually accomplished.

All sacrilege aside, the fictional but indeed legendary Barney Stinson articulates the interesting parallel between the Dating World’s Three Day Rule and Christianity’s Easter period:

Numerous Christian thinkers have pondered the perfection of the three day period between Jesus Christ’s death and resurrection, but none so beautifully and succinctly as the fourth century Athanasius:

 “It was, of course, within His power thus to have raised His body and displayed it as alive directly after death. But the all-wise Saviour did not do this, lest some should deny that it had really or completely died. Besides this, had the interval between His death and his resurrection been but two days, the glory of His incorruption might not have appeared. He waited one whole day to show that His body was really dead, and then on the third day showed it incorruptible to all. The interval was no longer, lest people should have forgotten about it and grown doubtful whether it were in truth the same body. No, while the affair was still ringing in their ears and their eyes were still straining and their minds in turmoil, and while those who had put Him to death were still on the spot and themselves witnessing to the fact of it, the Son of God after three days showed His once dead body immortal and incorruptible.” (De Incarnatione 5.26)

Let me be the first to point out the spooky similarities between Athanasius' christological arguments and the fictional Barney Stinson's comedic non-Christian rationality of the three days between the death and resurrection.

Whether causatively linked or not, the Christian paschal weekend does indeed appear to be a type for the modern dating world’s Three Days Rule, and the parallel between the two has largely made me reconsider the value of the latter in light of the former. While I’m not ready to justify the conventional sexism of the Three Days Rule by pointing to the sexist connotations of the Biblical schema (Christ is the groom and the Church is his bride), I am nonetheless forced to reconsider and to search for purpose in the three day waiting period in which I find myself.

So if nothing comes to fruition from my repeatedly waiting three days after a date, at least I have hope in the resurrection... wherein, “FYI,” Jesus apparently “invented the high-five...”

True story.

Since my high school years I have felt helplessly incarcerated by various sinful thought patterns and habits, and last weekend marked the end of that feeling, the end of my perceived (and therefore actual) incarceration. The Holy Spirit breathed these exact words into my soul after having read SO MUCH of the New Testament and having spent so much time in prayer and fellowship with other team leaders: "Hannah, you are clean. You are free.  I have already forgiven you these sins, so stand up, stop trying to carry these burdens yourself, and live free as I have made you"

I know many people are skeptical when someone claims to have heard actual words from the Holy Spirit, but these words were so real to me (not that I actually received them through the physical aural sense... my mind repeatedly perceived them in some inexplicable supernatural way, and I am now failing miserably at recounting the experience with some degree of coherence).

Luckily, I know that these words ARE from the Holy Spirit, because they are deeply backed by scripture.  The following are all the passages through which the Holy Spirit spoke to me and my specific situation:

• "It is for freedom that Christ has set us free.  Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery... You, my brothers, were called to be free."  Galatians 5:1,13a
• "You were taught, with regard to your former way of life, to put off your old self, which is being corrupted by its deceitful desires, to be made new in the attitude of your minds; and to put on the new self, created to be like God in true righteousness and holiness."  Ephesians 4:22-24
• For you were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord.  Live as children of light (for the fruit of the light consist in all goodness, righteousness and truth) and find out what pleases the Lord.  Have nothing to do with the fruitless deeds of darkness, but rather expose them.  For it is shameful even to mention what the disobedient do in secret.  But everything exposed by the light becomes visible, for it is light that makes everything visible.  This is why it is said: 'Wake up, O sleeper, rise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you.'"  Ephesians 5:8-14
• "When you were dead in your sins and in the uncircumcision of your sinful nature, God made you alive with Christ.  He forgave us all our sins, having canceled the written code, with its regulations, that was against us and that stood opposed to us; he took it away, nailing it to the cross.  And having disarmed the powers and authorities, he made a public spectacle of them, triumphing over them by the cross."  Colossians 2:13-15
• "'Return, faithless Israel,' declares the Lord, 'I will frown on you no longer, for I am merciful,' declares the Lord, 'I will not be angry forever. Only acknowledge your guilt... Return faithless people; I will cure you of backsliding."  Jeremiah 3:12-13a,22
• "If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness"  1 John 1:9
• "Create in me a pure heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me. Do not cast me from your presence or take your Holy Spirit from me.  Restore to me the joy of your salvation and grant me a willing spirit, to sustain me"  Psalm 51:10-12
• "I waited patiently for the Lord, he turned to me and heard my cry.  He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire; he set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand."  Psalm 40:1-2
• "Blessed is he whose transgressions are forgiven, whose sins are covered.  Blessed is the man whose sin the Lord does not count against him and in whose spirit is no deceit.  When I kept silent, my bones wasted away through my groaning all day long.  For day and night your hand was heavy upon me; my strength was sapped as in the heat of summer.  Then I acknowledged my sin to you and did not cover up my iniquity. I said, 'I will confess my transgressions to the Lord'--and you forgave the guilt of my sin."  Psalm 32:1-5

I cannot articulate what happened this weekend, other than that I finally laid down the burden of the sin I had been choosing to carry around myself.  Though before I would confess my sins to God, I would never give them up... I constantly held onto the guilt.  I let the guilt define me, and let it be my excuse and justification for falling right back into the same sinful decisions and thought patterns.  During the team leader training weekend, all the leaders and exec staff wore 5lb. ankle weights for 24 hours, and removed them as a symbol of leaving all of our hangups and burdens at the altar.  I realized so much through that physical experience that I constantly reapply the "metaphysical" weight of my sin when I could simply be living in the freedom Christ died and resurrected to give me. 

As a result, my self-talk is unbelievably different.  Actually, everything is unbelievably different.

My fourth semester has officially come to a close, and I am mostly satisfied with what I have accomplished over these past four months.  I may be less satisfied, however, once my Greek final grade is posted--I'm sitting on the border between an A and a B+.

BIGGEST NEWS SO FAR: I will be studying at the University of St. Andrews with Baylor in Spring 2010.  Scotland, here I come!  Not only am I eager to take advantage of St. Andrews's extremely reputable divinity school, I am anxious to take two modules titled "Scottish Music" and "Scotland and Cinema."  I plan to enjoy Scotland as much as possible, and this demands that I inundate myself in all things Scottish--an endeavor which naturally includes hitting up a few pubs and staking out Loch Ness with my beautiful Plum 10MP Nikon Coolpix camera.  

God stopped me in my tracks via the influence of some good professors here at Baylor, and set me on the path for becoming a different kind of doctor.  The pieces had been falling together all along.  I loved learning, love learning, and will always love learning.  Immediately at Baylor I flourished intellectually in mulling over, discussing, and wrestling theological subjects.  I found a passion I never had for studying science.  I found fulfillment, I found myself. 

For the past two semesters (counting summer session as one of them) I have been absolutely on-board and excited about heading in the direction of a Ph.D.  But something changed in my in the past few weeks:  I've made theology mine.

Now let me articulate what I mean by this.  Rather than seeing theology as my future discipline, I see it as my present and continuing discipline.  I no longer see myself as somebody who is going to be a theologian, but somebody who already is a theologian.  For the first time, in conversation, I called theology “my discipline.”

I find that exciting.  I am owning it!  

And it only took me eleven months to get here!

So far, these are the things that have gone wrong (not in chronological order, of course):

• A/C broke (froze over) the hottest week of the summer, and it took maintenance 2 days to do anything about it
• A/C broke and flooded the kitchen the week we moved in because maintenance did not replace the filters when we requested it... they insisted that because the complex is "practically brand new" (OR IN REALITY, built several decades ago) that they wouldn't need to be replaced.  after it flooded, they replaced all the filters in the complex, and never since. 
• Refridgerator/freezer broke while my roommate and I were both out of town for Christmas vacation... we return to find room-temperature food and condiments.  gross.  Maintenance guy said it just ran out of freon, so he added more.  Had he figured out WHY it ran out of freon, he would have discovered a freon leak and would have prevented...
• Refridgerator/freezer broke again (today).  the other maintenance guy did a bunch of poking and prodding and determined that it was out of freon, and when we informed him that the same thing happened a month ago, he deduced we must have a leak.  He left and never fixed it.  We have to throw all the food away, now... and we JUST spent over $150 on groceries.
• Our microwave lost power randomly
• The washer somehow fell off of the wooden board that was suspending it, and fell over... apparently it was off-balance, and it took maintenance a week to come and fix it.  This naturally coincided with the same week Jess and I both ran out of clean clothes (last week)
• my toilet (the downstairs toilet) has been perpetually broken since we moved in.  maintenance keeps replacing various parts with toilet components that clearly are not made for the toilet, do not fit the toilet, and therefore do not fix the problem.  It has flooded the bathroom twice, causing the already-peeling up lineoleum floor to begin rusting. lovely.
• I took the lid off of my toilet today to figure out if I could get it to stop constantly running (because it broke again today), and then suddenly some hose came detached and started spraying the ENTIRE bathroom and a little of the bedroom outside the door with toilet water.  disgusting.

None of the maintenance requests I've ever submitted online have ever been acknowledged, even though I receive a confirmation email.  I have to physically drag the maintenance people over to our apartment, and sometimes involve an angry phone call from one or both of our fathers.

Praise the LORD I am getting out of here in 4 months.

8.5 more pounds, and I will weigh less than I have in over two years.  I know better than to expect this rate of change for the rest of my dieting, though... I didn't plan to have reached the 17 pounds-lost mark until March, but part of me really feels that I can make it happen faster.  Maybe I've undershot my timeline.  Who knows?

So what's the magic diet?  Well, I read Jillian Michaels's book, Winning by Losing, because I am such a fan of The Biggest Loser, and pretty much adopted her suggestion of the nutrient ratios 40% carbs, 30% protein, 30% fat for a balanced oxidizer, which apparently I am, according to the quiz in her book.  That being said, I still have to count calories and study the nutritional label of everything I eat, and I still have to pick wise choices to achieve the 40-30-30 ratio.  But for the first time in my life, no single nutrient group is off-limits!! (Yes, I'm speaking to YOU, Atkins diet). 

Y'know... this diet is probably along the same concept as Weight Watchers, of which I was a member 100 pounds and maybe 10 years ago.  I even remember being able to lose weight on that plan, but I resisted the counting system with my whole being.  I suspect that the biggest difference between then and now is the advent of smartphones with internet access.  I no longer have to lug around some stupid book with point values to tell me how good or bad something is... all I've gotta do is Google it on my phone!  And with fitday.com, I don't even have to write down everything I eat.  I simply type it in.  Another thing less to lug around.  Plus, I'm older, and I'm ready to take control of my life.  I'm no longer some stupid slightly-overweight preteen who wants to hold on to the few extra pounds because she seeks a reason to hate the world.

I also find it hilarious that I've essentially combined the Special K and Subway diets.  Eating Special K is awesome, because one of my resolutions is to eat breakfast rather than skip the meal to get a few more minutes of sleep, and it is low-calorie, low-fat!  Subway is awesome, because one of my resolutions is to exercise more, and if I walk a specific route to the Subway on the other side of campus, I get 2 extra miles of walking, in addition to a smart lunch. 

Well, now that I've wasted another 15 minutes of our time...

Meanwhile, I have--for the first time in my life--made New Years resolutions.  And the surprising thing is that I have obsessively been faithful to them (well... except for one which I am breaking right now, but more on that in a moment).  Some of them may seem silly, but life-changes happen in small steps, no?  Here is my list:

• Actually eat breakfast
• Lose weight (goal: 70 more pounds by October 1, which means 2 pounds a week) by monitoring my calorie intake and beginning an exercise regimen.  I found this free website www.fitday.com which is helping me immensely.
• Exercise!  I hope to walk the Bear Trail at least three times a week, if not five.  I also decided that I will be frequenting the Subway on the other side of campus, but take either the south half or the north half of the Bear Trail to get there... killing two birds with one stone! 2 miles of walking plus a smart meal.  In addition, I plan to get over my fear of the SLC and exercising in the presence of guys my age.
• Drink less soda, if any at all.  Drink LOTS of water.
• Brush my teeth more (I don't think I spend enough time in each brushing)
• Take control of my health (which, obviously involves losing weight), including my mental health (I need to keep my ever-increasing and ever-impairing OCD in check)
• Have positive self-talk.  Have real goals in mind with the weight-loss, and view them not as "ifs" but "whens"
• Establish a legitimate circadian rhythm by:
• Going to bed no later than 12:30am (which is the most difficult thing for a recovering night owl whose favorite time of the day is 3:33am).  This is the one I am clearly breaking right now, but I feel too inspired right now to avoid this blog post.
• Waking up every day at 7am, even though I don't have class until 10 on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Utilize the free mornings to exercise.
• Have fun, have a life.  This means not turning down as many invites as I usually do, which in turn demands that I get my homework done ASAP in the day.
• Avoid procrastination by reducing my TV watching to a minimum (I can't get rid of ALL television, now, can I? I'm too much of an aficionado), and DVR some that I can put off until the weekend.
• Wake up to my alarm the first time it goes off rather than incessantly hitting the snooze button.
• Study my Bible on a plan/schedule, rather than haphazardly when I don't not feel like doing it.

Exhausted?  I am only slightly right now.  Bottom line: this semester is about ME, and about me looking, feeling, acting, and being healthy in all possible ways.  Let it be known that to date I have lost a total of 7 pounds, with 70 to go.  I don't think I have ever been so positive and optimistic about a diet, and I even hesitate to call it that.  For some reason, I am just psychologically ready to change my life, and I think the key is that I am making MANY changes all at once.  Before, if I were to make one change in my life--say, exercising--it is so easy to slip back into NOT exercising, because every other aspect of my routine was familiar and gravitating to more familiarity of the past.  But with very little the same, it's almost as if I am merely adjusting to a new environment rather than changing my habits.  Transformation is an excellent byproduct.  I no longer see myself as an overweight girl who could be thin, but an unhealthy girl who is taking back her body.  I guess I cannot be thin and healthy unless I decide to be so, and I have to start LIVING thin and healthy before I can actually arrive at thinness and health.  I've already lost the weight in my mind... I'm just letting my body catch up!

So there's some of my wonderful stream-of-consciousness.  And it's already 1:20am.  Holy cow.
Goodnight, and godspeed.

Christmas.  There's something about the combination of red and green that just makes me feel all warm inside.  Christmas never took on so much significance as a holiday for me until I started making the transition from high school to college.  With the entire scenery changing around me, Christmas was my constant (shout out to my fellow LOSTies).  Dragging the family Christmas tree and ornaments out of the attic is like opening a scrapbook... a story that began years ago when my parents got married and started to flesh itself out as each child was born, grew, and contributed to the growing story of tree decorations.  I can't forget to mention the yearly pictures on Santa's lap, which we boldly display on the mantle above the fireplace.  Inevitably one of the four children was always kicking and screaming when the camera shutter triggered (and of course, with my being the angelic child, I was never that one of the four). 

[I find it also extremely necessary to mention that a fruit fly just flew into my right ear, violently causing me to lose my train of thought] 

Every year I get to make fun of my maternal grandmother and her system of labeling each present with a number instead of the recipient's name, so as to prevent each grandchild from shaking and guessing his or her own gift beforehand.  In theory it seems like a good idea, especially for younger children, but each of us grandchildren is well into or past the teenage years, and each time numbers get confused or mistaken or rearranged, and there is always some sort of tragedy that happens to the "master list" which details who receives which number.  Recently we even get to make fun of my mother for adopting the exact same hilariously disastrous strategy.  Each year I get to watch my uncle open his yearly package of new underwear as his first gift from his mom.

Each year I get to forbid my paternal grandmother from making the same old apology about how the gifts are "not as much as last year."  Each year we convince the youngest cousin to hand-deliver a gift to her dad, my uncle Lane, and call him by his legal first name, Sherill.  Each year it is just as fantastically hilarious as ever.  Every year I get to make fun of that same uncle for being terrified of the Abominable Snowman from that Rudolph claymation movie.

I love this common thread of Christmas.  To some degree it could be considered a backbone of my life.  It's these little scenes of solidarity which we reenact once a year at Christmas that reminds me of everything I have for which to be thankful and everything toward which I can look forward, and it's always rooted in family.  I don't care if it's cheesy.

No school.  I am fairly certain this requires little explanation.  I must amend, however, that I actually love learning.  The end of a semester is a profoundly bittersweet moment: it signals the release of academic demands and pressures, but it also cuts me off from the steady flow of information and observation and discovery that I perpetually crave.  But then again, that's the beauty of the Christmas break!  At the other end, a new semester begins!  I've always been the disgusting child who gets giddy at the new semester.  I am enthused by brand new textbooks, newly sharpened pencils, crisp notebook paper, blank slate, new subjects.  None of that has changed since I have moved on to higher education, and it probably never will... even when I am an old professor beginning a new set of courses.  I love the break from classes and being able to sleep in, but I also cannot wait until my spring semester begins again.

Movies.  Christmas-themed movies are amazing.  ABC family's 25 days of Christmas pretty much rocks my world.  There is something magical about the ever-growing bank of Christmas movies, each year a gift to be re-opened.  I think it follows the same phenomenon of the Christmas tradition in general... nothing beats Charlie Brown Christmas, Miracle on 34th Street, Elf, etc.  All classics, and all the more exciting because you have to wait eleven more months to watch them again.

But more than that, movies released in theaters in December, before Christmas, or on Christmas tend to be some of the most fantastic movies all year round.  I have extremely high hopes for this 2008 Christmas season.  Here are the movies I plan to go see over my Christmas break (in absolutely no particular order):

• Doubt
• Bolt
• Quantum of Solace
• Frost/Nixon
• Seven Pounds
• The Tale of Despereaux
• Bedtime Stories
• Marley & Me
• The Curious Case of Benjamin Button (I'm actually most excited about this one)

Yeah, that is quite a large number of movies to see in a few short weeks.  But I'm going to justify it as celebration of my Birthday.  Which transitions me into the next reason why I love December....

My Birthday.  I never really grew up celebrating my birthday too much.  At least not as much as other kids.  Having been born four days after Christmas is a kind of drag.  First of all, growing up, none of my friends were in town or available to come to a birthday party, so the earliest I could celebrate was MAYBE New Years.  But that's kinda lame, because then the celebration is not Hannah-centered but New Years-centered.  And that is completely unacceptable!!!  The one day a year when I am justified in being selfish!  Second of all, for some reason people find it acceptable to splurge $5 more on the Christmas present they would have given me anyway and label it as a Christmas-Birthday hybrid gift.  But I'm not a Christ-Hannah hybrid (technically), so how does this make sense?  To borrow the words from my dear mentor Maggie (who also has a late December birthday), "If you buy me only one present, you must pick which holiday it is for, and you fail in the other one!"  But now that I'm thinking about it, I don't really care.  I never actually know what to request in a gift because there is never anything I really want that I do not already have (except this Plum 8MP Nikon Coolpix camera for which I asked for Christmas... *cough*).  I honestly would be fine receiving no gifts at all, as long as I get the steady stream of affirmations of my significance.  And is that not what a birthday is really all about?  So anyway, in fifteen days I will celebrate having existed in these cosmos for two decades.  I am not yet sure how I will officially celebrate it, because I have never been accustomed to parties.  Moreover, now that being in college causes most of my friends to be scattered all over the world over extended breaks, the people with whom I would love to party would not be able to attend.  Thus, an official party may not be the route I take in celebration.  Perhaps I will stick to a movie-going extravaganza.

So there are a few reasons why I love December.  I could think of and type some more, but I'm still combatting that fruit fly....

Why Do We Celebrate?

Why do we celebrate
and give gifts and sing?
What is the reason
why we do all these things?

To many people
the answer is clear
We celebrate the time
when our saviour was here.

Not only do we worship
a king born long ago
But the king in our hearts
that continues to grow.

We give because God gave
the best gift of all
His son to the world
to All: big and small.

We sing to give
our praise and love
to the one in heaven,
Our God up above.

In conclusion, Jesus
is the purpose of the season.
But tell me,
What is your reason?

--Hannah Decker

Now for a back story to my own jubilee behind my posting this link:

Today in my Christian Ethics class we watched a documentary film called Maquilapolis telling the story of a handful of the millions of factory workers, or maquiladoras, in Tijuana, Mexico... the pure portrait of modern globalization.  I've always been moderately sympathetic to the plight of factory workers and individuals employed by American corporations outsourcing their paid labor.  But this film was just utterly disgusting.  Only a few days earlier I had caught news of the three American airline CEOs who flew each of their private jets to ask for taxpayer bailout money, and even that was enough to upset me about the American obsession with wealth and the big bosses' inability to relate or to think about their average employee and the communities they impact.   But Maquilapolis highlighted it in such a way that it made me physically ill.  These owners of big-name multinational corporations exploited (and still exploit) cheap labor across our borders, then get away with picking up their entire company from the foreign nation overnight in order to avoid paying taxes and employee severances and cleaning up the toxic materials in the poorest neighborhoods.  The film was surprisingly graphic about these realities.

UGH.  AMERICA. 

Why can't we follow suit with the hint of corporational integrity that this Japanese CEO lives? 
At least SOMEBODY in this world can't sell his integrity for wealth.

Were that the whole world was so great...

Question:  If God foreknew that Adam and Eve would fall into self-love and would sin, why didn't he stop it?

This is my extremely complex paraphrase of his answer:  The only way God could have stopped them from sinning would be to have created them without the ability to choose.  Although it would be better to create humans without the ability to choose (thus making them always living good and sinlessly) than it would be to create them with the ability to choose (giving them the option to choose sin over the good, to turn away from God), humanity's having the ability to choose and to sin means that they have the ability to love God (something that is programmed to do something the same way every time cannot love... can a computer love?), and THAT--the ability to love--is an even greater good than being unable to sin.  Plus, the redemption brought about by humanity's sin is an even greater good than the first sin and all the subsequent sins are bad.  The good that arises from redemption comes from the sin's being punished (since justice is good) and from the whole scheme of salvation brought about by Jesus Christ's death and resurrection (which itself was a greater good than all the sins of the world in history were bad... otherwise, his death could not save ANYONE from any single sin). 

My thoughts: I love this explanation.  It may be because it is pretty similar to the explanation with which I was raised. It's pretty baptist.  There ARE problems with it, because it could potentially be ascribing to God the origin of sin.  It doesn't answer   Plus it also might be saying that sin+good is better than just plain ol' good. 

In the end, it would be presumptious to assume that we humans could ever know for sure why God allowed sin to enter his good creation in the first place (Can we even know why he created anything AT ALL?)  But at least Augustine settles some of the human frustration in the matter.

I just finished listening to a podcast of the second part of Mark Driscoll (of Mars Hill Church)'s series called "The Peasant Princess."  The series itself involves a walk through Song of Songs in the Old Testament.

For the most part I believe he portrayed a very biblical interpretation and application of this particular book.  It wasn't until the Question-and-Answer session at the end of the sermon that he said something that really upset me.

One of the questions was, "what are your [Pastor Driscoll's] thoughts on stay at home dads if the woman really wants to work? or even if both want/need to work?"

His response essentially entailed that, unless there are extenuating circumstances (illness, cancer, injury, death, etc), for a husband not to be the provider of the family is sin, as well as for the woman not to be a stay-at-home mom.  Pastor Driscoll and his wife (who was helping him answer the questions submitted) both repeatedly referred to 1 Timothy 5:8, which in my NIV translation says "If anyone does not provide for his relatives, and especially for his immediate family, he has denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever."  She said, "a mom is built to be at home with her kids." He said, "if you cannot provide for your family, you are not a man... if you are an able-bodied man, your job before God is to provide for your family." "if you want to have a good family, a good marriage that honors God... there is nothing in scripture [that justifies a stay-at-home dad, mother having a job, etc]."

I can't help but be horrified at the implications of that line of thought.  Would it not produce a predominantly male society and workforce?  Do women--and mothers especially--really have nothing to offer society and the community apart from rearing children?  Why would we even bother to educate women, if that were the case?

I do not believe God gave me intelligence and a desire to teach if I am not intended to give it back to society. I strive to be a professor, but if this really is the biblical standard for a family and for vocation, I would have to walk away. 

MOREOVER, 1 Timothy 5:1-16 is talking about widows!!!  I seriously fail to see how this verse, taken out of the contexts of widows--who, might I point out, are WOMEN that no longer have a spouse, rather than MEN with a spouse--is justifiable support for a doctrine of the-man-and-not-the-woman-as-provider.  True, Paul does acknowledge in verse 7 that these instructions are to be given to "the people" as instruction as well, but I doubt it been intended for such conclusions as Driscoll makes.  I even consulted the Greek translation (if you don't know this, I have been studying Biblical and Attic Greek for three semesters at Baylor University... and I beg your forgiveness, for I am about to journey into a potentially dull but warranted excursus on the Greek text of 1 Timothy 5:7-8), and I found that verse 7 merely says "let these things be announced, in order that they be above reproach".  The word for "they" (in the NIV it is translated as "the people") IS masculine, but that does not necessarily mean that it is referring only to males, only that it is not referring to an only-female plural group.  In addition, the Greek word for "anyone" that is used in verse 8 is gender ambiguous, in that the same indefinite pronoun would be used when referring to either a man or a woman (similar to the English indefinite pronoun "anyone").  The "his" of the English translation of verse 8 seems to me to be only supported by the Greek adjective for "faithless," which here is either masculine or neuter (but because this is Greek and the subject is either masculine or feminine, I can rule out neuter).  And even though Greek thought at that time was just male-centric, I think the NIV translation is misleading in saying "his" way more than the actual Greek text does.  My argument is this: the Greek text of verses 7-8 advocates that the instruction be announced to everyone, and this would advocate a doctrine of everyone-should-do-all-that-is-in-their-own-power-to-ensure-that-everyone-is-provided-for before it ever advocates a a doctrine of the-man-and-not-the-woman-as-provider.

And who said that the Greek verb pronoeo has the same bread-winning connotations as the English word "to provide," anyway?

So is my being horrified by this a sinful reaction to truth, or simply a justified distaste of corrupt theology and hermeneutics?
I've been sensitive to the Holy Spirit, and I am convinced it is not the first option.

I put together a website for my sister Gretchen.  Check it out!  She's a wonderful artist and just keeps getting better every day.

I literally do what I don't want to do.  How is it that I have the power to be absolutely powerless?

I battle the guilt of instantly trying to bounce back from my own stupidity... thinking to myself, "who in the world do you think you are, ignoring what you've just done? running back to Him as if it never happened, as if things are going to be fine?"

A) Oklahoma has only two candidates (parties) on the ballot.
B) There is no place to write in a vote.

So I did some research. 

It turns out, Oklahoma's ballot access laws are ridiculous. (see http://www.okvoterchoice.org/obar_10reasons.pdf for a summary)

A) Oklahoma requires ten times the number of signatures that other states require to get a third party on the ballot.
B) Oklahoma is one of only five states that does not allow write-ins.

What to do now?

This ballot forces me only three options:

1) Vote Obama
2) Vote McCain
3) Don't vote

I cannot willfully opt for any of these three choices, but as an Oklahoman I am cornered.
And it is too late for me to register to vote in Texas, where I am currently living as a student.

I hate this.

I really enjoy reading St. Augustine, but in a completely different way reading his theological works than just my initial read of his Confessions. 

I do not run well on only three hours of sleep.  A needlessly sleep deprived weekend is a terrible way to preface a Monday. 

I am overdue for a trip to the zoo.  I need my giraffe fix.

I am currently in a "I want to listen to piano etudes" music phase, and Liszt has wonderfully stepped up to the challenge.

I fear my new passion for theology may be limiting my course selections for next semester, seeing as it is overshadowing my passion to learn all other sorts of things.  Furthermore, most of the courses in which I am interested in taking next semester are not offered during the spring semester.  So I may end up taking a random geology class to bring my schedule up to 15 hours.  I admit, however, that geology could end up being an interesting contrast to theology. 

I LOVE LOL MONDAYS (CBS has an excellent sitcom lineup for Monday nights this fall, one which kicks off with Season 4 of How I Met Your Mother and Season 2 of Big Bang Theory)! 

And a memorable quote that is still bringing me giggles:
"Imagine that rust on my brand new silver mustang when I was younger.  Think of EVIL as that rust.  What was that rust?  A lack of car."
--Dr. Williams, in explaining Augustine's understanding of the nature of evil, September 22, 2008

So, the Holy Spirit immediately started to correct me after I published the previous blog entry (which I have since deleted... if you really need to know the whole situation, ask me about it, but essentially I--having felt attacked--returned the favor in a blog entry). Immediately this song started to haunt me (I included the lyrics, accenting the ones that were especially haunting me).  Therefore, I want to let it be known that I am leaving this matter behind me.  I do not want to make anything more of it.  I do not want to contribute to a situation that is of no benefit to the body of Christ.  I am disgusted that I am capable of such pettiness.  I apologize, and ask forgiveness. 

I don't want to fight
(by Derek Webb)

I don't want to be right anymore
I don't want to be good
I don't want to change your mind
to feel it like I do

I don't wanna sell graves
peddle them door to door
a little something to ease your mind
and prepare you for what's in store

[Chorus]
I don't want to fight
brother I'm not joking about peace
we can have it here tonight
it all comes down to you and me

you never asked me to save anyone
not in whole or in part
like I was some kind of Holy Ghost
come to change their hearts

[Chorus]

you know the tree by the fruit
but just between me and you
I never do what I want
I do what I'm taught
and I've been learning a lot
about the violence I'm capable of

so I'm walking away from this
before I hurt someone
'cause I'm facing enemies
on both sides of the gun

I love him already, but who is he?
I want a giraffe, but I don’t know why.
I am intelligent, but only to an extent. I constantly am tortured by my abundant lack of knowledge.
I talk a lot.
I have a taste in music that lacks any pattern whatsoever.
I fall in love easily, but I’ve always held back.
I love long hair.
I am a deceptively fast runner. I just never do it.
I love kisses.
I say awkward things, and I’m no longer embarrassed by it.
I am a passionate Hanson fan.
I contribute Spanish to every conversation, even if with only English speakers.
I encounter scary, bizarre things when left alone with my own mind.
I wouldn’t mind getting married soon.
I am surprisingly laid back.
I like thrillers, Alfred Hitchcock, and Johnny Depp,and Mel Gibson movies, but I prefer action and war movies to anything else.
I overanalyze.
I excel at grammatical correctness.
I am notoriously indecisive.
I daydream, Disney princess-style.
I honestly think I’m beautiful. But I like to hear it anyway.
I simultaneously loathe and love studying, but not necessarily equally.
I am energized by learning Chemistry.
I frequently change the desktop wallpaper on my laptop for no apparent reason.
I am taken aback by a man worshiping God. It is THE most attractive thing.
I dislike jewelry.
I stay up past three in the morning simply because I can.
I can’t stand it when people smack.
I still debate over whether I am an overall optimist, pessimist, realist, or idealist.
I love learning. But I easily tire of the subject of the learning.
I obsessively compulsively check my email every fifteen minutes. Sometimes.
I will always be in love with William Wallace.
I succumb too easily to my maternal instincts. I can’t wait to have a baby of my own.
I elaborately plan to be organized, but exhaust myself in the process and leave no energy for the organization.
I don’t understand myself whatsoever. I can only merely observe.
I constantly feel isolated.
I can’t smell skunks.
I am captivated by God creator, and I can’t comprehend it.
I melodramatically complain about things that don’t really bother me.
I am super ticklish on my neck, and will kick anyone that exploits this fact who is not he.
I would have no problem spending my life as an astronaut, photographer, senator, professor, humanitarian, doctor, social worker, painter, researcher, essayist, translator, movie critic, archaeologist, egyptologist.
I am only competitive if there is no real competition.
I frequently assume false guilt, because it’s easier than being let down by the person who’s actually guilty.
I like to make people think I take Monopoly way too seriously, even though I don’t. Strategy.
I am annoyed by girls.
I perceive ideas and concepts in colors.
I like to play the violin, but I don't like others to listen.
I forget things way too rapidly.
I overuse the adverb.
I am haunted by the constant need to know everybody's middle name.
I secretly don’t want to be an adult.
I am a text-message addict.
I adjust everything to assure visible or theoretical symmetry.
I cannot believe that this compilation of statements actually thoroughly describes me.
I will undoubtedly revise this list.

I feel I can sympathize.  I am stuck in this terrible Limbo, this dreaded in-between place between the protective padding of my childhood and the vast, mysterious expanse of my future.

I am told that these years of my life are supposed to be the greatest, and that this is where I am to blossom into the wonderful flower I am designed to be... but I do not sense any of this "blossoming" happening. 

Like a stapler suspended in a jello mould, I feel ridiculously useless and alone.
As if this must be a joke.

Perhaps it is of my own doing.  Perhaps I avoid forming friendships, thinking if I close my eyes my life will fast forward to where I want to be.

I do not want to believe the false notion that finding my husband, getting married, and starting a family will cause all this to go away, suddenly jostling me out of my Limbo and into the "reality" of my heavenly realms.  But what tells me that this notion is false?

I know a lot of my frustrations and emotional whirlwinds right now are due to my not reading the Bible regularly.  To many people this may seem very cheesy, but I have been a Christian for quite a long time.  Long enough to see both the clear benefit of reading the Word of God steadily and the clear disadvantage of ignoring it.  I've fought this one specific battle (which is part of my testimony, though I do not feel comfortable talking about it to everyone) for almost four years.  The first two years of the battle weren't really a battle... more of allowing my spiritual enemy to completely overrun my camp.  These two years I did not once open up my Bible on my own time.  By year three, which happened to coincide with the transition from high school to college, I finally had enough of it.  I knew it was time for me to grow up and take responsibility for my spiritual health, so along with making several changes in my life I set out to memorize a bunch of scripture.  The three that were my life-line at the time are these:

No temptation has seized you except what is common to man.  And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear.  But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so you can stand up under it.  (1 Corinthians 10:13)

But he [the Lord] said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me." (2 Corinthians 12:9)

He who conceals his sins does not prosper, but whoever confesses and renounces them finds mercy." (Proverbs 28:13)

Memorizing these three verses very specifically gave the Holy Spirit something to work with in my heart.  See, I believe the whole purpose of memorizing scripture is to hide the Word of God in your heart.  Perhaps that sounds to hokey for you.  I sure always thought so.  The phrase "hide God's word in your heart" always brought up images of some old woman sitting contentedly in some chair in a nursing home because she has so many verses stored to make her feel good in her last days.  The phrase conjured up scenes from AWANAS and Bible Drill... scenes from my childhood only.  None of it ever seemed to apply to my stage of life.  Yet memorizing these three verses opened up a world of power to me.  When faced with that same old demon, for once I had the power even to CONSIDER saying no.  It revived my spiritual conscience.  It gave the Holy Spirit permission to warn me when I was about to embrace my enemy. 

And this could all happen even if I did not physically have the Bible in front of me.  And that is precisely the purpose.  It is easy to run from your physical Bible when you don't want to listen to God, but it is not easy to ignore the Holy Spirit's whispering scripture to you in that crucial moment when all you want to do is dive headfirst into trouble.

The part that still frustrates me is that, a year later, I don't feel like I have moved much from that point.  Yet I know I have, even if I don't FEEL it.  True, that same old enemy has followed me to Baylor, but it no longer has free reign over me.

I will probably spend the rest of my earthly life healing from these wounds.
And in some way, this struggle has come to define me...

Now these are the verses I am currently working on memorizing.  I prayed over each one, and each is very specifically powerful in my situation.

Though your sins are like scarlet,
     they shall be white as snow;
though they are red as crimson,
     they shall be like wool.
If you are willing and obedient,
     you will eat the best from the land.
                    (Isaiah 1:18-19)

When you were dead in your sins and in the uncircumcision of your sinful nature, God made you alive with Christ.  He forgave us all our sins, having canceled the written code, with its regulations, that was against us and that stood opposed to us; he took it away, nailing it to the cross. (Colossians 2:13-14)

Do not gloat over me, my enemy!
     Though I have fallen, I will rise.
Though I sit in darkness,
     the LORD will be my light.
Because I have sinned against him,
     I will bear the LORD's wrath,
until he pleads my case
     and establishes my right
He will bring me out into the light;
     I will see his righteousness.
                    (Micah 7:8-9)

Anyway, I now crave the red words.  So I'm going to go read the red words.

I'm pretty sure I'm already behind in my classes.  No, I'm DEFINITELY sure.  Never again will I take 16 hours of super-demanding courses without a single blow-off credit in sight.  And technically I had no "homework" to do for tomorrow's classes, so it isn't that big of a deal that I am sitting in my apartment at 3am reflecting upon my life.  But I still have mounds of other tasks looming over my head.  I have so much to do, and so little time.  I just cannot seem to bring myself to do them, and I think it is because I have too much swirling around in my head right now (which would probably make some sense of the random flow of topics that this post will inevitably follow).

I missed the second orchestra rehearsal of the year due to a monstrous 3-day migraine, then missed the third rehearsal because I had a 102-degree fever from a cold and couldn't hold my violin up to my neck due to swollen glands.  And I'm principal first violin.  My biggest fear is that physical ailments like these will inevitably threaten my fulfilment of the Baylor attendance policy.  But I guess I can only cross the bridges in front of me.

I plan to apply for the Crane Scholars Program.  It seems to me an answer to prayer.  A community of Christian intellectuals.  I had a dream the other night in which someone told me my future husband would be part of it too.  I know better than to believe everything my dreams tell me, though.

I am unbelievably homesick right now, but I don't think I am homesick for Oklahoma City.  I went back home to OKC over Labor Day weekend and was still homesick there, and I don't think I was homesick for Baylor.  Is it possible that I am homesick for a home I have not yet found?  Perhaps I am homesick for my future family.  I believe that is at least partially true. 

I have no idea how I will be voting in this presidential election.  My man Ron Paul was buried by the media, and I just don't feel I can vote for anyone else with such a clear conscience.  Yet I do not seem to have time to research anything.  Maybe I'll devote some of my facebook time or my sleep time to looking up Bob Barr, the Libertarian candidate...

I crave deep, meaningful friendships right now, especially with some guys.  But something always seems to get in the way.  I know I tend to form friendships as extensions of other friendships (sample format: Friend A introduces me into Person B, whom I get to know as I spend time with Friend A, until Person B becomes Friend B).  Unfortunately, living in Memorial last year only exposed me to the friendship of other girls.  And these girls only seem to know other girls.  Evan is my only legitimate guy friend right now, but even then I think I freak him out sometimes... exactly because he IS my only guy friend. 

I love that my mom ordered PediPaws after viewing the infomercial.

Maybe I'll finally get into basketball now that Oklahoma City has an official NBA team, the OKC Thunder.  Andrew and I at least plan to go see the home game on my birthday this December.

I really praise God for the wonderful friend he has given me in my cousin Andrew.  (I think I had my roommate Jess calculate it for me, and he is my first cousin twice removed?  Or second cousin twice removed?  All I remember is that he is some kind of cousin twice removed.  But anyway... back to my point).  I am not sure how I would function without him.  Even if we only talk electronically because I am 300 miles to his south. 

And why is it that all my good guy friends seem to be long-distance friendships?  I have grown to really admire my mom's former coworker Vinoj (to whom she betrothed me).  And even though he worked with her for over a year, we never actually spoke to each other until this summer.  And now that he has moved to Los Angeles, he is becoming a good friend. 

I want a husband.  And I want to start having children soon, even if during my undergraduate years.  I could handle the stress, and if I were to do this, my children would be in preschool  or Mother's Day Out while I am pursuing my Ph.D.  It's such a smart plan.  It just lacks my husband.

I still suffer from the exact same vices.  But at the same time, I think I am healing from the wounds I always used to invite.  Even if I do occasionally pull off the scab. 

I really miss my little sisters.  I miss my whole family, but I especially miss Lorelei and Gretchen.  I really am glad Gretchen is going to be driving through here in a few weeks. 

I am beyond ecstatic about the Hanson concert September 19 at the Oklahoma State Fair.  I have never been to a Hanson Concert in my nearly 12 years of being a humongous fan.

I got Andrew hooked to Derek Webb.  Andrew texted me last night and told me that DW would be playing at Oklahoma Christian November 7, but he didn't know what time the concert was.  I looked on DW's website, and to my surprise, November 8 Derek Webb will be at COMMON GROUNDS in WACO, TX!!!  And on top of that, WATERDEEP is also headlining.  Waterdeep has become my new favorite band (I know, I have several "all-time favorites", but please bear with my zeal).  I especially like Lori Chaffer's solo stuff.  I know that looking forward to this concert will definitely help bring me to the end of the semester still holding onto my sanity. 

Oh, and Evan and I will be taking a trip at the end of October down to the Woodlands to see Derek Webb, Sara Groves, and others in concert.  I am excited to actually be able to see Derek Webb twice in one semester. 

Can you see why I have designated this current era of my life as "confusion"?

But according to AskMen.com, Oklahoma City is the number 5 Hell on Earth.... and BAGHDAD is listed as number 10.  Why in the WORLD would anyone think that Oklahoma City is twice as hellish as Iraq?  Moreover, he claims that the natural disasters hit OKC frequently... but the ironic thing is that the natural disasters rarely actually make it to the downtown or urban areas.  I have lived in Oklahoma City for almost 20 years, and even though I have had to take shelter through many a tornado warning, I have never been in the direct path of a tornado or been in a building that suffered any damage from a funnel itself.  And the tornadoes that hit rarely ever completely devastate like that May 3 tornado.

Don't you think that if these kinds of disasters happen "all the time" there would be more recent examples than 1999?

But I guess that's what you get for consulting WIKIPEDIA for all your "legitimate" information.

Too bad he's missing out on OKC.

MY theory is that dying on the island means you are alive to the world, and so as long as you are alive on the island,  you are dead to the world.  That's why the losties are not supposed to get off the island.

And what was up with the freighter's doctor?  HE showed up dead on the island, but apparently he's still on the freighter and fine?  Or was the guy talking to Faraday via morse code bluffing?  If he wasn't, then maybe my theory has a grain of truth to it.

AND BEN CONTROLS THE SMOKE MONSTER!!!!!!!!!!  That's at least one more answer than we had for the past four seasons.

It is impossible.

And I couldn't think of anything.

"before there was time"
"pre-temporal eternity"
Necessary contradictions.  Necessary impossibilities.

But seriously.  Try to define "eternity" without any reference to "time."
If "time" or any temporal terms appear, your definition is not actually a definition of eternity.

Because true eternity transcends time, and does not need time to exist as its contrast (remember, it is not the opposite of time, and not even really the absence of time... more like the "irrelevance of time").  And yet, look at each of those definitions.  To say that eternity is the "irrelevance of time" is to use a definition that hinges around and depends upon the word "time," thus making the definition contradictory, because if eternity is not affected by time, it cannot be defined by it or by its absence.

That will bug me forever.

Just some thoughts.
Hannah Marie

_____________
(update/disclaimer)
One of my friends who is a physics person totally tore down this whole observation of mine the other day, so I must mention that I am not approaching it from a physics understanding of time/eternity.  So maybe that really does render this whole blog entry ridiculously pointless.  Oh well.

Hahaha okay so maybe I stole those words from Hanson.  But that's an appropriate way to open up the wonderful/crazy dream I had last night.  The part where my memory starts is at a Hanson concert.  In real life, I have never been to a Hanson concert, so every one I've found myself at has only been in my dreams.  So anyway... the concert happens, then suddenly I am sitting at a big picnic table chatting with Isaac Hanson.  He walks away, then comes Zac.  After him, Taylor.  I thoroughly enjoy myself, they have a blast talking to me.  I realize I am the only one I know from the concert, so I scramble for my keys.  I realize I don't have my keys, and therefore I don't have my car.  I start freaking out, then my sister Gretchen drives up with Lorelei in the back seat--she's driving a Geo Metro for some reason in this dream, though in real life she drives a verrrrry nice Ford Focus.  She asks me if I need a ride, and I say, "Logically.  Where am I?"  When she replies that I am in Oklahoma City, I freak out yet again, trying to figure out how I got here.  I know I had purchased train tickets.  I knew I had gotten in my car in Waco to drive to the Amtrak station at Fort Worth, but I don't remember getting on the train or riding in the train for 4 hours or being picked up at the Amtrak station in Oklahoma City.  I don't remember getting to the Hanson concert.  This fact bothers me severely, but I just accept it and ride home.  On the way home, the on-ramp to I-40 and the highway itself (all you Okies will get this part) start breaking up into little pieces, and all these pieces grow new highways.  Gretchen and Lorelei disappear, and I am stuck in the driver's seat of a Geo Metro underneath reproducing overpasses that are falling apart.  I, still trying to figure out how I got to Oklahoma City without remembering the train, manage to run this little Geo Metro off into a bubbling lake that appears out of nowhere on the north side of Reno (I decided to drive UNDER 1-40 for some reason... and I am still downtown).  But for some reason, I don't go into the bubbling lake with the Geo Metro.  I am standing on a cushiony chair in the middle of a tea party happening on a meridian in the middle of Reno.  I witness the Geo Metro fly into the murky, bubbly water, and stare in amazement at the explosion that the impact creates.  "Don't touch that" says a voice behind me in a Australian accent, and I turn around to see a very tall woman point toward an antique table next to me, topped not with a hard surface but a cushion that looked like the sky.  I get confused, so I hop onto the sidewalk, making sure not to touch the cushion.  And I have to follow a maze of sidewalks back to my house in Oklahoma City.

Then I woke up in Waco, having slept through two morning appointments.  Lovely.

But at least Hanson kept true to their promise.
I'll be with you in your dreams.