The Death of a Computer. Resurrection?
Sunday, February 04, 2007
My desktop computer died the other day, which is one reason why it's been so long since I blogged. I was zooming around the earth looking at mountain ranges in Venezuela or something on Google Earth (shameless plug) when my computer skipped the blue screen and went straight to black. The internal workings slowly spun to a stop till there was an ominous silence in the room. I tried everything, including power switch CPR (Continuously Pressing Repeatedly) and the occasional kick under the desk.
Upon further inspection and slightly invasive surgery under the metal skin, I determined I needed expert help. The PC 911 speed dial saved on my cell phone cleverly connected me to my computer genius friend from back home. Within a few mintues and a quick electrical jumper test involving pulling out wires and using spare paper clips, I determined with his help that it must (hopefully) be the power supply, a $25 fix.
Tomorrow is D-day; the power supply comes in the mail and if it works, I'm golden. If not, my New Computer Fund is about 3 years late in starting, and blogging will become less a test of my discipline and more a test of my roomate's generosity. I'll update tomorrow how the operation goes.
P.S. As an added note, I think the world should know that it was -40F here the other night, and daytime temperatures are only slightly better. For those of you who don't know, this means that when you step outside your front door, you feel immediatly a strange warm sensation in your body. This is called shock. Within a few seconds it wears off and all of the tiny hairs inside your nose instantly freeze, turning into mini ice-daggers that make it painful to breathe. Any exposed skin looses all feeling and the slightest movement of air (including breath) against it feels like an electric sander with #40 grit paper. Why do people live in Minnesota again?
Posted by Benjamin Washam 4:27 PM 1 comments
Labels: General Reflections, Minneapolis
Deserts of Snow and Voices of Silence
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
(photo credit)
The Russian word for desert is "poustinia." In traditional Russian culture, poustinia not only refers to an isolated, arid landscape, but it also means a special place, usually some sort of rough cabin, set apart for a man or woman to go and meet with God in intensive solitude. In previous centuries in rural Russia, it would not have been strange for a man or woman, compelled by the inner-voice of God in their spirit, to leave everything in their life behind for a time and with permission from the local bishop, go construct a poustinia, and wait on the Lord.
This last weekend I attempted four days of poustinia in the barren winter woodlands of central Minnesota. The nearest town was named St. Francis, incidentaly. My shelter had graciously been built and maintained by the third order of the Franciscan Brothers at Pacem In Terris. My hermitage had a gas heater and a few sparse furnishings. I took warm clothes, a few books, and a flashlight for the biffy.
The only noise for four days was the occasional crack of water freezing inside a tree that would shatter the silence and make me jump in my chair. The sub-zero temperature and blanket of sound-absorbing snow turned my world into a black and white photograph - all the colors were faded to a grayscale pallette, and the world I could see was frozen still. I could not sense the slightest movement of a single twig on a tree. When I sat still, the only thing that reminded me time had not stopped was the beating of my heart. At night everything was wrapped in pitch darkness except for the sky, which emitted a faint pure glow from the stars that pierced its canopy.
Why, my soul, are you downcast? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God.
Psalm 42:5
It was into this setting that I entered, trying as best I could to have no agenda whatsoever, only to be still and wait expectantly in faith on the Lord. As the hours and days passed by, boredom and impatience slowly merged into a peace. The constant disturbance of waves started to subside over the deep pools of my soul, and I was able to catch momentary glimpses into the true desires of my heart - desires that were holy becuase they were the desires of God himself. I believe all people who have responded to the call of Jesus and recieved His gift of the Holy Spirit have these desires placed in them by God. One of the roots of our discipleship and transformation into Christ-likeness is to grow into these desires by quieting the raging sea around them of the expectations of others, wounds and failures, intellectual knowledge, insecurities, and our weakness towards ignoring God's reign in our minds, hearts, and actions.
Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.
Matthew 16:24
It was this verse that I sensed as the response to my question: "Jesus, what do you want me to do?" I realized how precious these years of my life are right now, and how my singleness is not a burden, but a blessing of singleness of heart towards Christ! I recieved no insight into the future, no direction for this year or next; only an invitation to a journey inward, an invitation into a courtship with the Lord Jesus Christ. The goal is a divine union; the result is true compassion for all people. This is the desire of my heart.
My prayer is not for them [his 12 disciples] alone. I pray also for those who will believe in me through their message, that all of them may be one, Father, just as you are in me and I am in you. May they also be in us so that the world may believe that you have sent me. I have given them the glory that you gave me, that they may be one as we are one— I in them and you in me—so that they may be brought to complete unity. Then the world will know that you sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me.
John 17:20-23
I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing.
John 15:5
Posted by Benjamin Washam 7:21 PM 3 comments
Labels: General Reflections, Minneapolis, Scripture Reflections
Back in the Saddle Again
The saddle I speak of is not Gene Autry's, though sleeping out every night where the only law is right might not be too bad either. No, I'm back in the saddle of searching for work. I waved goodbye to Target last Tuesday when my seasonal employment was ending. I realized that my hours weren't going to change from all evenings and weekends, which doesn't work well for me and the apprenticeship. I left in good standing, and now I'm back on the streets of Minneapolis and cyberspace to find another part time job.
My goal in this search is not simply to supplement support coming in from family and friends, but also to find a way to meet people in the neighborhood and start to build friendships of trust.
A few leads:
>Meter reading for gas and electric companys: This would involve driving out to the southern suburbs and running through winter weather and people's yards to collect usage data. I could work 2-3 days a week and make more than I was at Target!
>MasterWorks: This is a business/ministry in the city owned by a Christian guy who tries to employ and offer job training to guys who have a hard time finding steady work. Many of the employees are in a discipleship type group as well, and there are usually a lot of Native guys.
>Desiring God Ministries: This is John Piper's non-profit that distributes his books, videos, and other teaching materials, as well as a resource website. Their offices are located on the edge of Phillips, and they might be looking for part-time media/video editting help.
Please be praying that God leads me to an opportunity that would connect me with the people God wants me to minister to.
Posted by Benjamin Washam 1:04 PM 0 comments
Labels: Minneapolis
Silence is Golden, Especially if that Silence Reaches My Mind
Thursday, January 11, 2007
I've been looking forward to my team's contemplative spiritual retreat for a long time and it has finally arrived! Today I leave for Pacem In Terris (peace on earth) in St. Francis, MN. I will be away for a four day period of silence, listening, reading, resting, praying, music making, and simply BEING with the Lord in a one room hermitage out in the woods. Sounds like torture to some, and in some ways, at least for the everyday thought patterns in my mind, it will be torture, even unto death. I am praying for a renewing of my mind, and continued transformation of my identity from my false self to who I am in Christ.
I've only done this once before, and that was during my InnerCHANGE internship in San Francisco the summer before last. Those three days at New Comaldoli Hermitage in Big Sur gave me just a taste of the joy and refreshment that come out of setting aside time like this for the Lord only. Until Sunday, I will be unavailable for contact.
Posted by Benjamin Washam 10:31 AM 2 comments
Feliz Navidad and God Jul! A Venezuelan and Swedish Christmas
Wednesday, December 27, 2006
My Christmas Eve and Christmas day turned out to be more fun and family than I could have imagined! The Venezuelan family who lives beneath me invited me over for their Christmas Eve celebration, complete with traditional hallacas and pan de jamon. (The same stuff my family ate every Christmas Eve when we were in Venezuela!) I was warmly greeted by the Quevedo family and their three Mexican friends who joined us for dinner. We had a great time eating and joking around about how weak Venezuelans' tongues were with spicy things compared to Mexicans' (all in Spanish, of course.) It's amazing how quickly my Spanish comes back when I'm immersed in it again! After dinner they opened gifts and we sang a lot of songs together, including a very energetic version of Feliz Navidad!
Christmas Day I was invited to join the Olson family who lives across the alley from me. This is the family of a good friend of mine from Wheaton. They have welcomed me in and become like a home away from home. We stuffed ourselves with traditional Swedish food and generally took a relaxed and lazy approach to the whole day. Christmas night I finished off with another grand meal with another great Wheaton friend in Cottage Grove, a suburb about 30 minutes from Phillips neighborhood.
All in all, though I sorely felt the lack of the other Washam 7 back in Rimrock, WA, God provided families here to make me feel at home.
Posted by Benjamin Washam 12:08 AM 3 comments
Labels: Christmas, Minneapolis
I'll Be Home For Christmas, If Only In My Dreams
Sunday, December 17, 2006
Sad news - because of the work situation and the money situation, I won't be able to travel home to Washington for Christmas. This will be my first Christmas away from home and family.
I will be working at Target on Christmas Eve until 6:30pm or so, then I might catch up with a church I've been visiting (Solomon's Porch) as they go Christmas caroling around Hennepin County Medical Center, the big hospital in downtown Minneapolis. Last year when the group went caroling, some crying nurses ran up and told them to come quickly to one particular room. Inside this room, a man had been comatose and unresponsive for two weeks. When the church group had walked by singing carols, he had awaken from his coma, walked from his bed, and was standing at the door of his room, bawling.
The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of deep darkness a light has dawned. Isaiah 9:2
Christmas day I'll be chilling with the family that lives across the alley from me, Sam Olson and his family. They have a tradition on Christmas day of rounding up as many "homeless" friends (some literally without a house, others simply without a home, like me) to go out to a state park for a bonfire and winter picnic.
I am/will be thinking a lot about my home in Rimrock, WA - the remaining Washam 7 will be gathered around a 12 foot tree in the living room for the first Christmas up at Camp Ghormley. The house will be snowed in with feet and feet of snow all around, surrounded by the Wenatchee National Forest, in the Cascade Mountains....
But enough for feeling blue - even if I am the lost ornament from the tree (see picture above for resemblance??). This will be a Christmas like no other, I already know that. My hope is that in this season of the unfamiliar, I will be able to see and hear a new rendition of the story of the incarnation. With a fresh telling ringing in my ears, I hope to take steps to love my small part of the world that God loves so much.
Posted by Benjamin Washam 4:31 PM 0 comments
Labels: Christmas
Christmas Reflection no.1
Saturday, December 16, 2006
Christmas, more than anything else, reminds me every year that this thing I'm in - this movement of people after Jesus, this insitution called Christianity - is for the whole world. I can spend an entire year drawing lines, defining boundaries, treating "non-believers" different from "believers", and shoring up the flying buttresses of Christianity. But the minute December rolls around and I start reading again what the Prophets had to say about the Messiah, and what He actually said, I've got to throw away my boxes and categories and open my arms just a little wider than the year before. God did it so many times that by the time John wrote his gospel, He had His arms around the whole world in love. This is not an argument for universalism, as I hope you can see - this is simply a call to the Church and myself to BE the good news we talk so much about - to obey Christ and fulfull God's promise that His people would be a blessing to all peoples, not just those on "our side."
Posted by Benjamin Washam 10:22 PM 1 comments
Labels: Christmas, General Reflections, Scripture Reflections
Can God Use A Playstation 3?
Sunday, December 10, 2006
It started out like any other Thursday evening - and then I saw her. (No, she wasn't a PlayStation 3. Shame, shame, shame. You'll have to read to the end to figure out who she was.)
First, a little background before I finish the story. Last Thursday, all the feelings of the past three weeks came to a head - feelings of disappointment ("Why am I in Minneapolis again, God?"), ineffectiveness ("Why don't I have any Native friends yet?"), and just general confusion ("How am I supposed to start a house church when I'm still working on the basics of what following Jesus requires of me?"). I finally reached a point of clarity (a.k.a. God graciously gave me a glance in a mirror) enough to realize that my thought patterns weren't only lacking trust - they were plain self-defeating! I was able to thank God for helping me to see and say heck with circumstances - God brought me here for a reason and I better start thinking and acting like I believe it (which I do). Now back to the story.
....Later that day....
It started out like any other Thursday. I was walking down the alley back to the house to change before going to work at Target. Then I saw her: a short, fast-walking bundle of winter coverings headed straight towards me in the alley. I gave a big smile and said hello. The woman stopped and gave me a hearty handshake and we started into a remarkably friendly conversation. This energetic, African American mother was going around the neighborhood trying to raise money for her niece's medical bills. She had partnered with a local church to help finance the medical bills. I at first assumed it was some sort of a scam until 10 minutes into the conversation after she had asked me about my love life and I was asking her to come inside the house and warm up. To make a long story short, I made a friend and told her that I didn't have any money, but that as soon as I did, I would get a hold of her. I really had no idea where the money might come from, I just knew I didn't have any at the time.
Fast forward three hours - I'm at work on the sales floor in Target, instead of in electronics like usual. I happen to walk past the electronics department, when what to my wondering eyes should appear, but a brand new unopened pricelessly rare PlayStation 3 being RETURNED (unheard of) to Target and locked up in the glass cabinet. I went on my break as quick as quick, pulled out the PS3, and bought it before you could say Saint Nick. The first thought that entered my mind was "God, why did you have me walk by electronics right then? A minute later, and it would have been gone." My second thought was "Gee, I could sell that for some profit on eBay!" My third thought was, "I think God just gave me an opportunity to follow through and help out Rosalyn!" So there it is - I'm selling the PS3 on eBay. Some happy person will get a PS3, and Rosalyn's niece will get all the profit - some money from God, because I think it was a set-up.
You can be praying for me:
That God would open doors for me into relationships in the Native Community;
That a more strategic, more flexible job than Target might develop in the next month before my seasonal contract ends;
That I would have direction regarding an opportunity to take a leadership role with Solomon's Porch, a church I've been attending that wants to help with a free dinner site in my neighborhood near the Native Housing area.
Posted by Benjamin Washam 11:26 PM 0 comments
Labels: Minneapolis
Team Photo
Tuesday, December 05, 2006
Here is a picture of the Minneapolis InnerCHANGE team at our retreat.
Posted by Benjamin Washam 1:27 PM 1 comments
Labels: Minneapolis
A New Short
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
A great new short film about who InnerCHANGE is:
Watch Here.
Posted by Benjamin Washam 11:47 PM 0 comments
Labels: Minneapolis
Retreat!!!!!!!!!!! (In the contemplative, not combative sense)
The Minneapolis InnerCHANGE community is getting away this weekend. We will be going to a cabin out in the woods by a lake (which could really be anywhere in Minnesota). We'll be MIA for three days to play, worship, relax, discuss, plan, and for the two new apprentices (myself included), to share our "timelines," a creative visual representation of our life story up to this point, with the rest of the team.
You can be praying that we come together in stronger unity, that we are refreshed, and that we will have clear vision and insight into where God is taking us this next year. You can also pray specifically that as I share my timeline, the team and I would be able to discern what paths God has been leading me down and where He might be taking me in the future.
Posted by Benjamin Washam 9:08 PM 2 comments
Labels: Minneapolis
"Walk in my shoes for a mile or two and you'll see...."
Saturday, November 18, 2006
A few weeks ago, out of the blue, I saw a poster up on the street for the Dakota Commemorative March. It said that many Dakota American Indians would be re-walking the 150 mile stretch where their relatives were force-marched by the US military in 1862 - many of them to their deaths. I felt this would be a great opportunity to literally "walk in their shoes" and spend prolonged time in their company to hear their stories. I didn't know if any other white people would be there, but I decided to go anyway.
Late on the evening of November 9th, a friend dropped me off in the small farming town of Mankota in southwestern Minnesota. I cautiously entered the church where the walkers were supposed to be staying. All I saw in the darkened church basement were masses of dark forms strewn all over the floor and couches, and the faint sound of snoring. I quietly laid out my sleeping bag and tried to sleep, unsure of what to expect the next morning!
At 5:00am the lights were flipped on and a booming voice shouted cheerfully for everyone to wake up. The whole floor of the basement started moving. People of every age and size started to rise and prepare to walk for another 20 miles before dinner - from young children to elderly men and women. I tried to follow the crowd and get a feel for what I was supposed to do. At some point someone yelled and everyone ran to the windows - 5 inches of fresh snow lay on the ground and it was still falling fast. "Looks like we'll have to walk in the snow - anyone need an extra pair of socks?" someone said. A makeshift medical station was set up where people's bruised and blistered feet were treated with ointment and moleskine to help the pain. (At the point where I joined them, they had already been walking almost 20 miles a day for three days.) After a quick prayer and song in Dakota and a light breakfast of dried meat, dried fruit, and hard boiled eggs, we began to walk.
The procession was always led by a medicine woman out in front carrying the traditional medicine bag. A few paces behind her were the relatives of the Dakotas that marched in 1862 carrying large decorated staffs to represent their different bands. Behind them came all the rest of the walkers including myself, followed by a long trail of support cars crawling along at walking speed. The lead car had a loudspeaker that played traditional Dakota drum and chant music. The caboose for this crazy, yet somber parade was a heated trailer with restrooms. At each mile post marker on the highway we would stop and pound in a wooden stake with two of the family names of the origional walkers on it. Then we each took turns sprinkling tobacco on it as a way of remembering and honoring their legacy.
By 11:00am, my feet hurt, my calves hurt, my butt hurt, and my back hurt. Then I looked at the 50 year old man marching beside me with a smile on his face and kept going. A man called Bear kept reminding everyone, saying "many of our ancestors didn't have shoes when they marched, and they didn't even get to sleep! Remeber that when your feet start to hurt." Wise words.
A young single mother let me push her daughter's stroller the last 4 miles of the day when the side of the road became muddy and almost impossible to push the stroller through. As I labored to keep up with the rest of the group with my new burden, I was struck by the irony and the beauty of what was happening – it was as if this woman had given me the opportunity to share in her trouble, and in a way, to share in the trouble of her people. I pushed that stroller with all the might and care that I could, as if baby Jesus himself were riding in it.
The local charter school floor was to be our home for the night, and the staff was very welcoming. I ended up having to leave that night to come back to Minneapolis for orientation at my new job, but I later found out that the marchers had been badly harrassed at the school that night by some townspeople, and some of the leaders had to be taken to the police station for protective measures. That made me very, very sad.
All in all, I feel I am a very lucky man to have joined these people in their march of rememberance. I was blessed by their willingness to let me share in their suffering, and to consider me one of their own as we marched. I have experienced in a very small way what it means to be a native in this modern world, and it breaks my heart.
Posted by Benjamin Washam 7:48 PM 4 comments
Labels: Minneapolis
