My Dad

I was thinking about my dad today. I was thinking that when I was little it was really cool that he was always writing papers. I never knew what, exactly, he was writing, but it seemed he always had a yellow legal pad around that he was working on. He would write at home after we got done with dinner. Then I would get to go make copies with him at the office. That was fun, pressing the luminescent green Start button on the Xerox machine. So I have this memory of him writing a lot. I know now that he was writing about fly ash, concrete, and related materials, and I wonder how much could really be said about such things. I mean, I remember his papers being pages and pages long when completed. What could one write about at such length regarding these matters? I'm still a little perplexed by this, but I know that even though it seems like very straight-forward, unimaginative subject matter, writing about this stuff was my dad's creative outlet. He chose the words that went down on paper just like his father, a pastor, would do for Sunday morning sermons. It was the process of creating that was important, not necessarily just the subject at hand.

No more papers

Hey,

I'm done with all my papers for the semester. I'm not sure how well I did, just that I'm done. I think I did well enough to pass everything, so I'm good. Nothing to worry about. Although that paper for Prof. Paulson was a bit out there, I think I performed solidly on all the papers and work that was due. When I'm in the middle of all those assignments, I feel terrible. Like I'll never be able to finish everything and if I do, then if I pass, it's only due to the kindness of the professor. I know I shouldn't think like that, or maybe I should, but it seems natural. I guess I'm not going to worry about it until they kick me out of school, then maybe it will be a problem.

I think Anne and I should take Leah camping this summer. Just Leah. We can leave Kelly with some grandparents and take Leah to the lake. That would be great. I think she would like sleeping in the tent with Mommy and Daddy. Cool.

The joys of life

Hey, I'm learning to appreciate the tiny things in life. Like the way Leah screams and runs up to me when I come home from work. And the way Kelly looks up and smiles widely when Anne or I enter the room. It's amazing! I love it! It makes everything else worthwhile. All the little things that annoy cannot possibly overcome the cool things about life.

I know what it's like to be depressed and so it makes these happy times in life that much sweeter. I hope we are creating a happy, healthy environment for the girls. I hope we aren't making them the centers of the universe. There's a balance in there somewhere.

What I'm Reading

For a class on Martin Luther with Steve Paulson, I'm reading Denial of Death, by Ernest Becker, circa 1970's. It's pretty heavy. It talks about how we all deny our humanity from a very early age. Our whole existence as humans is based on smoke and mirrors and a hodge podge of psychological pre-suppositions. This is true. We try to find our identities in school, in our friends, in our jobs, in whatever clothes we wear, but it all adds up to a big nothing. This book reveals how we constantly try to keep this balance of knowing that we are going to die offset with some grandiose idea that we actually matter in this world. We matter because God created us in God's image, not because of our earthly accomplishments. This book reminds that we are valued just because we are, not because of anything we do. It reminds us that we are human beings, not human doings.

School

I'm eager to get done with school. One more year. Next spring I'll be out interviewing with churches. It seems weird that just about 6 years ago I didn't have much direction in my life. Then I started school, I met Anne, we had kids...it all seems so distant, yet so close. I'm learning that life is like "riding a train backwards," from an author on Zen meditation.

Leah is getting more adamant about getting her way sometimes. She just won't let up. Then, she'll just let it go for now reason at all. I'm not sure what triggers her or doesn't, it just seems that sometimes she will give up the fight pretty easily. I'm sure she testing us in her own way. She sits up at night after we put her to bed, sitting there in the dark. We're not sure why, but we think she knows she's not supposed to get out of bed. She won't get out of bed in the morning until we get there, either. She's so obedient. So anyway, at night, I imagine that she's sitting there processing the day as she sits in the dark. Thinking how things could have gone differently. Lessons she's learned. How to approach situations differently. Or she's just thinking about the playground.

This site

I'm beginning a new blog site because I like the graphics here at blogger.com. I had my own blog before that I had to format myself and this is much better. I plan to write what's on my mind with out much editing. Dangerous as that sounds, I'm going to try it. Hopefully, it will be fruitful. I'm not sure what I mean by that, but there it is.

You probably got to this site through the link at my family's website, www.geocities.com/mlmanz. You can still see my old blog at www.geocities.com/mlmanz/weblog. Thanks for looking!