The dishwasher will not wash dishes if it had not been set to run.
One might think this is obvious.
I opened the dishwasher this morning to unload it. It had been my habit all week to empty it each morning, so I went to do so without thinking.
It turns out that it was not full last night, so we did not run it.
I wonder how often I react to something with more or different expectations than I ought to have.
Abercrombie & Fitch is ditching their logo. Sales have been in free-fall, and, as one analyst cited in the article pointed out, “Personal style, specifically with teens, is becoming less about fitting in and more about standing out.”
2014 teens, apparently, do not have a collective goal to be just like 2004 teens.
News Flash: Teens are still teens.
The Life of the Brand, regardless of what brand it is, is necessarily short – and likely getting shorter with each generation
The United Methodist Church has, similarly, been working on a re-brand. For a couple of decades, in fact.
I can’t help but wonder if part of our problem in the #UMC is that by the time we get to a new strategy, we’ve taken too long to reach the generation we were aiming for.
By definition, the UMC takes a minimum of 4 years to make system-wide changes.
Is there any way we can re-structure to shorten this cycle?
On our way home from a vacation week in Galveston, we stopped at a Chick-fil-a. Unsure what the muzak was that I was hearing in the background, I listened more closely than is probably ever intended by the purveyors of such.
It was “I Can Only Imagine,” the slowed down, instrumental version. Felt odd to hear this song muzakked (is that a verb? Did I spell it right?)
I can only imagine.
Later today, I got stuck on “I cannot begin to imagine.”
This second phrase is what I’ve been thinking since hearing of the overnight death of a 3 year old grandson of one of my parish.
Yes, I hugged my own kids more often and more tightly the rest of today. I likely will again tomorrow as well.
I cannot imagine.
Yet, as people who follow a God who refuses to be distant, even when we don’t understand, we know that we must move closer rather than further away in such times.
Some of the best, and most regularly used pastoral advice I received in seminary was this: “If you don’t know what to say, don’t force words; just be present.”
I cannot imagine. I don’t have words that work. I will be turning to the Psalms deeply the next couple of days. The Psalms are full of words and phrases and images that come along side us as we feel whatever we feel as humans.
Please hold this family in prayer. Even if you cannot put words into the prayers, please pray.
This may or may not be a blog on which you read anything you haven’t already read somewhere else. Or everywhere else.
As I was in a Finance Committee meeting last night when I got the news. Shocking as it was, this news didn’t justify excusing myself from a meeting to rush something out into the blogosphere.
Now that you have read everything else about William’s life and death; now that you’ve searched for, found, and shared your own collections of quotes and clips, I offer you this.
Everyone wants a new angle. Everyone wants to say or write or share the perfectly unique perspective on the fact that Robin Williams’ life and work.
I am not alone in this.
I am, however, one who has reminded a few hundred people that “there is nothing new under the sun” rather frequently here recently.
Yet I want, I almost crave to say something different. I want – do I need? – to share something you hadn’t already thought of?
All these thoughts marinated in me last night and again this morning. As I sat down with the intent to blog, I realized something about all the reflection – reflection about myself, and Robin Williams, and life and depression and death and shared experience.
What I realized is this: part of the reason news of Williams’ death has so shaken so many of us is exactly because he managed – for over thirty years – to say and do things that struck us as both unique and new, but also as familiar and comfortable. He made us laugh to the point of drooling and snorting. He brought us to tears with moving moments of humanity.
Did Robin Williams disprove that there is nothing new under the sun? No, but I think he drew us together in ways and with methods that were, at least, out of the norm.
So, instead of trying to share something about Robin Williams’ life that is new, unique, or out of the norm, I’ll just share with you my thanks for his ability to draw us past the weight of our lives into the experience of joy and sadness that connected and connects us with each other.
And… about that…
No doubt some of his comedic genius and some of the source from which he was able to draw his acting ability came from the same deep well as the depression and addiction issues. He struggled with and against these, I suppose, all his life. He ultimately fell victim to them.
His death saddens us both because we won’t have another Robin Williams movie or series or stand up routine, and because we don’t want lives to be taken from us by such insidious means.
Death touches us all – this time a single death has touched a great many people.
Yet this singular death of an individual suffering from – perhaps tortured by – demons of depression and addiction serves us. It reminds us that we are people who, to a variety of degrees, know the power of depression and addiction. Some of us know it from the inside. Some only from the outside.
It is my prayer for you today, in memory of Robin Williams, that you will check in with those close enough to you for you to know the power of depression and addiction in their lives. Let them know they are not alone. May doing so remind you that you, too, are not alone.
Thank you, Robin Williams!