No Inspiration

Lately, I've had no inspiration to write. It's been a long couple of weeks. I had a class last week that ate up most of my free time. Since then, I've had no interest in writing in this blog. I shouldn't beat myself up over it, I guess. I'll write again when I am so inspired. Thanks for reading.

Train

Hey, we got to ride a train over the weekend. Alvarado, MN had it's centennial celebration and we were all aboard. It was pretty cool because the train went by the farm. Once again, Grandma and Grandpa were excellent hosts. Leah kept saying, "I want my Grandma and Grandpa!" on the way home.

Thanks to those of you who keep reading my blog. It's not always so exciting, I know, but thanks for checking in. By the way, graduation for me from seminary looks to be finally taking place in May of 2006. I promise. Hope you're having a great summer.

Apology

I'm sorry to be so judgmental about the people in the 97 Flood. I have no idea what it's like to go through such a thing and am sorry to pass judgment on those who have. I don't know how I might react to such a tragedy. I shouldn't pretend to know. I'm so glad there was comparatively little loss of life from that event and that is the main thing to remember.

Maybe it's because I lost my own boyhood home (my family didn't live there anymore) in the flood, but none of my personal belongings, that I can be so harsh. I might be really sad that the home I lived in is no longer there and am wondering why I don't outwardly mourn the loss. Maybe I have blocked it all out of my mind and wonder why others don't do the same. It is sad to drive by our old lot and not see the house anymore. Very sad.

Create

Sometimes we create problems for ourselves. We set ourselves up for disappointment with unrealistic expectations. We live for the future instead of right now. We don't know what's important in our lives so we let others tell us what is. We are miserable in the process. I can't seem to get out of my head sometimes and realize what's good about the world around me. When I am able to, I know there's so much to be thankful for and then I'm good to go for awhile. Then the devil steps in and I'm all lost again. This seems to be an endless, vicious cycle. I know on some level always that things are good in my life and then, all of a sudden, I get sad. I've been thinking about the 97 Flood in Grand Forks lately cause I read the book, Red River Rising, by A. Shelby and I've been thinking about how much lives were changed, and not changed, by that event. This book talks about the anger of citizens and distrust of government created by peoples' loss of homes and property. When I think about it, some people, it seems, didn't learn that things in their life are just that: things. I have no idea what it was like to go through the flood, but it saddens me to hear about so many people clinging desperately to that which doesn't bring life: physical possessions.

Not much

Kelly is now at the stage where she cries whenever Anne leaves the room. Kelly watches her mommy intently and then, the moment she's out of view, she starts wailing. She cranes her neck to try to see around the corner where Mommy went. Mommy isn't usually gone too long, but that's small comfort for this one. She used to be so content. I know we went through this stage with Leah, too. Someday, Kelly will be just fine when her Mommy leaves the room and we'll wonder what happened. Trust will have happened, I guess.

Daddy and Leah at the farm 

The farm

We had a great time at the farm recently. Mom and Dad (Grandma and Grandpa) were great hosts. Grandma, Leah and Anne and I had fun walking around the yard and pulling the wagon. Kelly went on a wagon ride, too. It's fun to be able to share the farm with them. Grandma and Grandpa make it seem like a fairy tale land. No cares, no worries. Time stands still. Leah remembered the farm from the other times she's been there. She knew right where to look for her buggy and beads. It was awesome.

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!