My dog is old. She's fifteen, and if it's true that 1 year is like 7 dog years, that makes her, wait a minute...105 years old. Yes, my dog is old. And she, like all of us at some time or another, is presently modeling cruel absurdity to me. She's been given to pacing lately. She goes up and down stairs repeatedly, many times in a row, as if she keeps forgetting why she traveled from one place to the other. I'll be in the middle of giving her treats, something will distract her, and I'll be left with half a piece of American cheese in my hand and no dog begging me for it. Last night as I was sitting on the couch reading, she walked dozens of laps around the coffee table, her nails clicking on the hard wood floor, annoying me to the point I would have locked her in the basement if I didn't feel the guilt that comes with thinking that she could die at any time. About a week ago, she jumped on the couch, and then being scared of the height, in order to get down she jumped into a pile of presents, which of course gave way beneath her, which of course left her scrambling, knocking ornaments off of the Christmas tree and shepherds out of the nativity. We opened crunched packages this year.

Dogs getting old and dying seems cruelly absurd to me. As do broken relationships, intentional violence, natural disasters, careless accidents, infertility, homelessness, ethnocentrism, thoughtless words, and destructive gossip. Yes, good can come out of these, and that's all proof to me that God still holds the key over this world. People say that without hurt there would be no healing, without loss what appreciation would we have for what we possess. And I agree that trials are acts of God's providence in our lives, drawing us seek after Him. But, isn't it absurd that we wouldn't already seek after Him? Isn't it absurd that we wouldn't trust Him in the first place?

Suffering is commonplace in this world. Watching my dog get old makes me think of how much has changed since she was a puppy - people have died, houses have burnt down, divorces have been finalized, friendships have been severed. Within each sad story there are hundreds of others. People sometimes ask why there is suffering in the world. I don't know. I know it doesn't make sense. I know it seems absurd. But sin is absurd, isn't it? Affairs, gossip, all of it - it never does anyone any good, it causes more suffering than satisfaction, yet we continue to do it anyway. And that first sin of creation was absurd. Trust the Creator who has never done you wrong or trust the one with the chip on his shoulder? Take advantage of abundance, or desire the one thing you can't have? And absurdity has followed over sense.

It's not always going to be this way. You know that pain that is so great it feels like your entire body cannot contain it - it's not always going to be that way. The heartbreak of a failed relationship - when that person you were sure you were going to marry has second thoughts - it's not always going to be that way. People dying, growing senile, losing dreams, harsh disappointment, hunger, hate, violence, all of it. It's not always going to be that way.

Perhaps my favorite verse: 'Now the dwelling of God is with men, and he will live with them. They will be his people, and God himself will be their God. He will wipe every ear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away'- Rev 21:3-4

I desire something to look forward to - there it is. Death, mourning, crying, pain - all gone. Even memories won't cause pain. Let the dwelling of God be with men, and let us be rid of the absurdity we have caused.

Christmas time is here, I'm home from college, and Mom is doing my landry. I really have regressed in my journey into adulthood. Last year I was a teacher, worked regular, long hours, had my own place, and brought home a more-than-sufficient paycheck. This year I have a part-time 10-hour-a-week job as well as sub jobs at a daycare, the money from which pays my rent, utilities, and one week's worth of groceries. Savings and loans take care of the rest. I work long, irregular hours interrupted by hilarious antics of my housemates, and I get frustrated with the lack of room in my basement bedroom and shower. Yet, in seminary, I'm not nearly as tired in the evenings as I was with teaching, and Mondays don't feel much different from Fridays. However, though I'm not nearly as emotionally exhausted after a day, a month, or a semester of teaching, I feel more emotionally burdened, carrying spiritual questions about the past, present, and future. I wonder what the answers to those questions look like in the tangible form of the days of my life. Mom today asked me questions about a future job and 401k's, Roth IRA's, health insurance, etc - more questions I don't know the answer to, and more questions that weigh upon me. I look forward to seeing how the Lord will provide for all of this - what work He will give me, where He will take me, and what with what assurance He will lead me. I feel burdened yet watchful. Yet, if it be any encouragement to you, I feel more burdened than anything else. It will be only by God's grace that my worry will turn to watchful expectation.

What would you do?

What is the appropriate response when one of your dearest friends loses her semester project due to a computer crash? I, Person A, smile and laugh, not excessively, but enough to be aggravating. I don't mean to laugh, and I really don't think the situations are funny, but I always laugh in stressful situations involving other people. A friend has a nervous breakdown right in front of me - and I laugh. It's happened!

Person B at our table, in empathy for my dear friend, starts cussing - repeatedly - and loudly - in the seminary community room.

Person C starts retelling a time that it happened to her, and gives instruction on why saving is so important.

Who responded best? I would have to say Person B, though crude, showed the most understanding of my friend's pain. I obviously have something wrong with me because I keep compulsively laughing at other people in crisis. And Person C, well, I think there must be a proverb about Person C.

Melissa and Andy

They're married!

Snow

What is it about snow that makes me want to jump on a roommate's bed at 2:00 in the morning and say, "Look out the window - it's snowing!" ?