The internet is indeed a wonderful thing. I know saying that is akin to saying, "bacon tastes good." But it is nice to be able to pick something up after three or four years and for it to still be there. Like this blog for instance.
So I am less than two weeks away from my first wedding anniversary. I have to say, without any hint of hyperbole, that being married has been the most deeply satisfying, fun, and surprisingly easy experience of my life. I'm sure a lot of that has to do with the extraordinariness of my wife, Angela. Like some friends of ours said once, "being married is like having a sleep over with your best friend every night." I couldn't agree more. I love almost everything about being married (especially my wife). Even a lot of the things that I wasn't really looking forward to have been pleasantly...well pleasant.
Now, I know what a lot of you might be thinking. And yes, I'm sure things will get more difficult and tiresome at times. But for the moment I am still the eternal optimist that is my nature, and I really do believe that things will probably get much better from here.
For one thing, I know that when we have dealt with problems (the current one is little work for me), we have invariably grown closer and stronger in our relationship. I know that my sin (and her's too sometimes) has really hurt us, and can drive us apart. I'm not foolish enough to think that I won't do some really awful things in the future.
Still, I'm not worried.
I love my wife.
She is the perfect woman (for me). She is gentle and kind. She is patient with me. She forgivess me. She has the most beautiful smile. She indulges me in my silliness and my playfullness. She loves to read. We love to read together. She lets me have my down time. She gives me confidence. She looks great naked. I could go on, but I think that last one was a good one to end on.
Peace of Christ to you,
Casey
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
KNOWN
I am now engaged. I asked, she said yes. All is wonderful.
Maybe one day I'll get a computer and actually write in this thing.
Probably not though.
Peace,
Casey
Maybe one day I'll get a computer and actually write in this thing.
Probably not though.
Peace,
Casey
Monday, January 15, 2007
MLK Jr. day
I have to say that MLK Jr is one of the more fascinating people I have read a little about. He is one of those people that I began to respect more and more the more I found out about him. If you ever get the chance, read his stuff and about him.
As I was leaving Chicago for St. Louis just before Christmas, I had a really good conversation with my dad on the phone about racism and poverty. He has been a police officer in the inner city of St.Louis for over thirty years now. Part of his work area is very impoverished and ghetto. The area where I now work is similar in many ways.
My dad freely admits that he has some racism in him, as I think most of us do to some extent or another. I'm sure that a cop doesn't always get the best of people, but he feels a lot of his racism stems from having to deal with the dregs of the inner city day in and day out. I have begun to understand where he is coming from.
I typically would consider myself a very non-racist person. At least compared to most people. But still, I know I am.
A few months ago while I was working a guy called up to me from the street to where I was working on the second story of a house and asked if I wanted to buy some tool or another from him. I immediately replied, "We don't want to buy any stolen tools." From this point on we exchanged some words. Mostly he called me names referring to my color, while I told him to get a job and such. He was so indignant. "I got a job. I live here, don't tell me to get out of here you fucking white...." After threatening me with some violence he stalked off.
I began to regret very much what I had said. I think I caught a glimpse of some of the racism that is buried deep down in me. Maybe he really was just trying to sell some tool of his that he didn't need anymore. At first I thought he might be the same person that had come by before trying to sell obviously stolen stuff, but I wasn't sure. I have had tools stolen from me on a couple of occasions, and it really pisses me off. Mostly though I felt sad for knowing that there is hatred in my heart for people that I don't even really know.
Another guy I work with confirmed that the guy trying to sell stuff had stolen from Breaking Ground before. On one occasion they had to buy back their car keys from him after he had stolen them. I felt justified, but I still had that pang of guilt. This was just one incident, but it has begun to affect the way I think, both for good and bad.
One of the things my dad and I both absolutely hate about working in the inner city is how people just throw trash in the street, especially when standing right next to a trash can. It happens all the time. A few week ago a van was pulling down the alley where I was standing. He literally stopped several feet from me, where the passenger in the van opened his door and proceeded to throw out a McDonald's bag full of trash. He closed the door and drove off like it was the most normal thing in the world. Now there is nothing unusual about this at all where I work, I see it all the time, except that there were SIX empty trashcans directly next to the van on the driver side.
It's stuff like that that makes me just shake my head. I have long had the ambition to work for social justice. To fight on the side of the underdog. It has been a natural disposition of mine for as long as I can remember, only becoming more intense and clear once I became a christian. But now that I'm actually involved more directly in that kind of work, I see more my limitations when it comes to being able to deliver any real change myself. One thing my dad and I both agreed on was that if there was going to be lasting change in the inner cities of America, for the poor blacks in America, it will have to be led from within. White folks like myself can do what we can do, but in the end it has to be a black initiative. It will need people like Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. as it's leaders. The best thing that I can really do is work on the racism in me.
As I was leaving Chicago for St. Louis just before Christmas, I had a really good conversation with my dad on the phone about racism and poverty. He has been a police officer in the inner city of St.Louis for over thirty years now. Part of his work area is very impoverished and ghetto. The area where I now work is similar in many ways.
My dad freely admits that he has some racism in him, as I think most of us do to some extent or another. I'm sure that a cop doesn't always get the best of people, but he feels a lot of his racism stems from having to deal with the dregs of the inner city day in and day out. I have begun to understand where he is coming from.
I typically would consider myself a very non-racist person. At least compared to most people. But still, I know I am.
A few months ago while I was working a guy called up to me from the street to where I was working on the second story of a house and asked if I wanted to buy some tool or another from him. I immediately replied, "We don't want to buy any stolen tools." From this point on we exchanged some words. Mostly he called me names referring to my color, while I told him to get a job and such. He was so indignant. "I got a job. I live here, don't tell me to get out of here you fucking white...." After threatening me with some violence he stalked off.
I began to regret very much what I had said. I think I caught a glimpse of some of the racism that is buried deep down in me. Maybe he really was just trying to sell some tool of his that he didn't need anymore. At first I thought he might be the same person that had come by before trying to sell obviously stolen stuff, but I wasn't sure. I have had tools stolen from me on a couple of occasions, and it really pisses me off. Mostly though I felt sad for knowing that there is hatred in my heart for people that I don't even really know.
Another guy I work with confirmed that the guy trying to sell stuff had stolen from Breaking Ground before. On one occasion they had to buy back their car keys from him after he had stolen them. I felt justified, but I still had that pang of guilt. This was just one incident, but it has begun to affect the way I think, both for good and bad.
One of the things my dad and I both absolutely hate about working in the inner city is how people just throw trash in the street, especially when standing right next to a trash can. It happens all the time. A few week ago a van was pulling down the alley where I was standing. He literally stopped several feet from me, where the passenger in the van opened his door and proceeded to throw out a McDonald's bag full of trash. He closed the door and drove off like it was the most normal thing in the world. Now there is nothing unusual about this at all where I work, I see it all the time, except that there were SIX empty trashcans directly next to the van on the driver side.
It's stuff like that that makes me just shake my head. I have long had the ambition to work for social justice. To fight on the side of the underdog. It has been a natural disposition of mine for as long as I can remember, only becoming more intense and clear once I became a christian. But now that I'm actually involved more directly in that kind of work, I see more my limitations when it comes to being able to deliver any real change myself. One thing my dad and I both agreed on was that if there was going to be lasting change in the inner cities of America, for the poor blacks in America, it will have to be led from within. White folks like myself can do what we can do, but in the end it has to be a black initiative. It will need people like Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. as it's leaders. The best thing that I can really do is work on the racism in me.
Sunday, December 31, 2006
Back from Juarez
At least for a few hours. I'll be going back tomorrow. Maybe I'll actually sit down and blog once I get back to Chicago.
Peace,
Casey
Peace,
Casey
Monday, December 18, 2006
one of my favorite poems
WHO AM I?
Who am I? They often tell me
I stepped from my cell's confinement
calmly, cheerfully, firmly,
like a Squire from his country house
Who am I? They often tell me
I used to speak to my warders
freely and friendly and clearly,
as though it were mine to command.
Who am I? They also tell me
I bore the days of misfortune
equably, smilingly, proudly,
like one accustomed to win.
Am I then really that which other men tell of?
Or am I only what I myself know of myself?
Restless and longing and sick, like a bird in a cage,
struggling for breath, as though hands were
compressing my throat,
yearning for colours, for flowers, for the voices of birds,
thirsting for works of kindness, for neighbourliness,
tossing in expectation of great events,
powerlessly trembling for friends at an infinite distance,
weary and empty at praying, at thinking, at making,
faint, and ready to say farewell to it all.
Who am I? This or the Other?
Am I one person today and tommorrow another?
Am I both at once? A hypocrite before others,
and before myself a contemptible woebegone weakling?
Or is something withing me still like a beaten army
fleeing in disorder from victory already acheived?
Who am I? They mock me, these lonely questions of mine.
Whoever I am, Thou knowest, O God, I am thine!
I stepped from my cell's confinement
calmly, cheerfully, firmly,
like a Squire from his country house
Who am I? They often tell me
I used to speak to my warders
freely and friendly and clearly,
as though it were mine to command.
Who am I? They also tell me
I bore the days of misfortune
equably, smilingly, proudly,
like one accustomed to win.
Am I then really that which other men tell of?
Or am I only what I myself know of myself?
Restless and longing and sick, like a bird in a cage,
struggling for breath, as though hands were
compressing my throat,
yearning for colours, for flowers, for the voices of birds,
thirsting for works of kindness, for neighbourliness,
tossing in expectation of great events,
powerlessly trembling for friends at an infinite distance,
weary and empty at praying, at thinking, at making,
faint, and ready to say farewell to it all.
Who am I? This or the Other?
Am I one person today and tommorrow another?
Am I both at once? A hypocrite before others,
and before myself a contemptible woebegone weakling?
Or is something withing me still like a beaten army
fleeing in disorder from victory already acheived?
Who am I? They mock me, these lonely questions of mine.
Whoever I am, Thou knowest, O God, I am thine!
-Dietrich Bonhoeffer
Sunday, December 17, 2006
DD
"There is a kind of hypocrisy which is worse than that of the Pharisees; it is to hide behind Christ's example in order to follow one's own lustful desires and to seek out the company of the dissolute."
"Martyrdom is not gallantly standing before a firing squad. Usually it is the losing of a job because of not taking a loyalty oath, or buying a war bond, or paying a tax. Martyrdom is small, hidden, misunderstood."
"Christ continues to die in His martyrs all over the world, in His Mystical Body, and it is this dying, not the killing in wars, which will save the world."
"It is simpler just to be poor...The main thing is not to hold on to anything. But the tragedy is that we do, we all do hold on-to our boooks, our tools,... and instead of rejoicing when the are taken from us we lament."
"The saint does not have to bring about great temporal achievements; he is one who succeeds in giving us at least a glimpse of eternity depite the thick opacity of time."
"One must be humble only from a divine motive, otherwise humility is a debasing and repulsive attitude. To be humble and meek for love of God-that is beautiful. But to be humble and meek because your bread and butter depends on it is awful. It is to lose one's sense of human dignity."
"In this present situation when people are starving to death because there is an overabundance of food, when religion is being warred upon throughout the world, our Catholic young people still come from schools and colleges and talk about looking for security, a weekly wage.
They ignore the counsels of the Gospels as though they had never heard of them, and those who are troubled in conscience regarding them speak of them as being impractical.
Why they think a weekly wage is going to give them security is a mystery."
All quotes by Dorothy Day.
I hold Dorothy Day in very high regard. I suggest you google her and find out a little bit about her. She could be very abrasive, and I'm sure a lot of you wouldn't agree with a lot of her stands, but it's hard to ignore the power of a life lived like hers.
"Martyrdom is not gallantly standing before a firing squad. Usually it is the losing of a job because of not taking a loyalty oath, or buying a war bond, or paying a tax. Martyrdom is small, hidden, misunderstood."
"Christ continues to die in His martyrs all over the world, in His Mystical Body, and it is this dying, not the killing in wars, which will save the world."
"It is simpler just to be poor...The main thing is not to hold on to anything. But the tragedy is that we do, we all do hold on-to our boooks, our tools,... and instead of rejoicing when the are taken from us we lament."
"The saint does not have to bring about great temporal achievements; he is one who succeeds in giving us at least a glimpse of eternity depite the thick opacity of time."
"One must be humble only from a divine motive, otherwise humility is a debasing and repulsive attitude. To be humble and meek for love of God-that is beautiful. But to be humble and meek because your bread and butter depends on it is awful. It is to lose one's sense of human dignity."
"In this present situation when people are starving to death because there is an overabundance of food, when religion is being warred upon throughout the world, our Catholic young people still come from schools and colleges and talk about looking for security, a weekly wage.
They ignore the counsels of the Gospels as though they had never heard of them, and those who are troubled in conscience regarding them speak of them as being impractical.
Why they think a weekly wage is going to give them security is a mystery."
All quotes by Dorothy Day.
I hold Dorothy Day in very high regard. I suggest you google her and find out a little bit about her. She could be very abrasive, and I'm sure a lot of you wouldn't agree with a lot of her stands, but it's hard to ignore the power of a life lived like hers.
I forget who said it...
...but someone once said,
"A saint is never consciously a saint, a saint is always consciously dependant on God."
"A saint is never consciously a saint, a saint is always consciously dependant on God."
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