I'm an Idiot

So, I was in the shower--my think tank of sorts-- thinking of online etiquette, how when commenting on a celebrity or a politician, someone we know but don't know, we should only say things we should say to that person's face (I say should, because there are things we would say to a person's face that we probably shouldn't say either).

The next night, I'm sitting in my living room, reading Thinking Through Christianity, and I'm frustrated about this story. So swiftly, I comment: "This guy's an idiot." Almost before I finish typing, I hear the Holy Spirit echo my own words back to me. I consider it briefly then justify and rationalize and publish.

Well, turns out, the author of the article (the man I so readily called an idiot) found this conversation, and defended his position against the original post, seemingly ignoring my comment, which it deserved, and which no doubt only confirmed many of his suspicions. Brilliant, Renea.

I'm an idiot. And I was wrong. I was reactionary, the very thing I deplore. And I apologize.

Picking up where we left off

Several of my friends from different terms at L'Abri found their way to Dallas last week. I was out on the town all week long having little L'Abri-like conversations about life and relationships and spirituality and sex and Obama and experiencing the 4th of July in Texas... It was wonderful. Chris called the night before, Curtis didn't call at all; Emily and Erin made plans months in advance, John a week in advance. I took them to some of my old favorites: restaurants and pubs, book stores and museums; and they helped me discover new things: Thanks to Curtis's I-phone, we discovered this really cool movie theater off of Inwood where we watched Up and belly-laughed and teared up and thoroughly enjoyed ourselves.





I rode the trolley down town for the first time! We hopped on in front of the Dallas Museum of Art after long-overdue, stimulating conversation about art, and rode it (for free!) until we saw a point of interest to get a cool drink and relax. I rediscovered The Sixth Floor Museum with Erin. I hadn't been there since I was a kid, and I very much enjoyed experiencing it as an adult. It's still an eerie experience, and one that makes me well up; but this visit was even more emotional because of the many similarities between Jack and Barack: during one of the short films in the museum, I leaned over and commented to Erin, "Sound familiar?" She nodded with a knowing and equally appreciative expression. We enjoyed The Crooked Tree Coffee House, free (and very good) jazz, and Pulitzer prize-winning A Chorus Line. I was even able to parallel park downtown---it was a magical affair.


I am thankful for these friends, their conversation, their love, generosity, and like-mindedness, their laughter, and their ability to simply pick up where we left off. I have the next few weeks free too if anyone else would like to swing by D-town. I'm just sayn'. :)