And not in an “Awesome! Let’s make a really ugly plant-pot or door-stop!” kind of way. My rubbish bugs me. Sometimes more than other times. Like when I bought a new pair of sneaks because the pair I was wearing had no tready grip left, and sliding on the carpet when you’re attempting to do a set of side lunges is no fun. Unless you’re my trainer – she thought it was hilarious. I was still wearing a pair of circa 2001 sneaks around the house. They also had no tread and squeaked with every step as air sucked in and out where the bottoms were coming away from the upper. Time for them both to go. Is it possible to recycle sneakers? You betcha! Nike has a Reuse-a-Shoe recycling program than grinds up your sneaks and turns them into tennis courts, running tracks and other sports surfaces. Over 25 million pairs of shoes have been collected so far. Today I took 4 pairs (my two and another two from friends) to the Nike Factory Outlet at Auburn. They take up to 10 pairs at a time, of any brand, and you just drop them off – no questions asked, no forms to fill in. There are quite a few drop off points in Australia. Check the website for more info.
how to: recycle sneakers
Jan 25th, 2012 by lesley
revolutionary jesus
Jan 24th, 2012 by lesley
Listening to an Open House podcast series from 2009 at the moment with Michael Frost talking about his book ‘Re-Jesus’. The first of the four podcasts discussed various concepts we may have of Jesus, and how they can be an obstacle to knowing the real Jesus. (Spooky Jesus, Buddy Jesus, Bearded Lady Jesus, etc.) In amongst all that, this point about the Revolutionary Jesus – the radical, political, Jesus – caught my attention most of all:
[Michael Frost] “Jesus was quite revolutionary in his socio-political, but particularly his socio-religious framework. I mean, it was religious leaders that wanted him dead, and you only ever want revolutionaries dead. You don’t want, you know, gurus or lovely teachers about love and grace dead. You’re happy for them to do whatever they want to do, but people who are actually pulling at the foundations of the whole system, those people are incredibly dangerous. And if you read the gospels you will know that it was the religious leaders of the time who worked Jesus out first actually, not necessarily his disciples. They knew, ‘Wait a second. If everyone gets hold of what this Jesus guy is talking about, our livelihoods, our system, the whole thing comes tumbling down.’”
Interestingly, Frost reckons that Jesus wasn’t a Che Guevera type revolutionary seeking to usurp the political system of the day, and establish a “Jesus government”, but that through his followers taking his teaching seriously and living as he did – with lives marked by love and grace – oppressive systems will eventually collapse. I tend to agree. I would love to see this world transformed in such a way. Even in quiet little neighbourhoods like my own.
Going on a wild tangent now, but from time to time in the wee hours, teens hang out in the underground garage here. I think some of the people knew someone who used to live in the block. They party, drink, smoke dope, and leave behind graffiti and rubbish. My first reaction is to get angry and think of creative retributive measures. (e.g. turning out the garage lights when I know they are down there.) Or dream of moving somewhere else. Especially because the party-goers generally hang out in front of my garage so their noise wakes me up. (My bedroom is directly above.) And I’m the one who generally calls the cops, cleans up their mess, and makes the calls to get the spray paint cleaned up. It doesn’t happen a lot, but the property damage is annoying, and makes residents feel unsafe. We have experienced verbal abuse, threats, and the cops once caught someone carrying a hunting knife. Like I said, it doesn’t happen a lot. But how do I love those people?
as expected
Jan 24th, 2012 by lesley
I’ve caught a cold. I knew the probability of getting sick after Kedron was high, and, as expected, here we are. Sniffles, headache, sinus pain, and fatigue. Still, thankfully I’m not so sick that I’m bedridden or hooked up to machines. (Exit Drama Queen, stage left.) It has been a quiet couple of days. Chatting with Mum on the phone, unpacking, washing what feels like endless loads of laundry, getting back into the morning swing of reading the Word (Is it weird to say that I’m enjoying Chronicles?), catching up on podcasts, reading blogs, sitting on the couch watching the sky, listening to birds. It has also been an opportunity to do more decluttering. Not that I’m a candidate for Hoarders – I just want to live more simply and have less stuff. To make room in my life for better, more worthwhile things. Like friends and family and Jesus. It’s hard getting rid of books though. *sigh*
back from kedron
Jan 21st, 2012 by lesley
I am completely wrecked, but in the best way possible. The week was intense, challenging, and lots of fun. Being Camp Aunt was fantastic and I felt like I was in The Zone (the Spiritual Gift Zone perhaps?) just supporting the team by being available to do whatever was needed. Howie was there too, which was great. (Although I didn’t realise he was so unwell. Now I feel like a Bad Camp Aunt.) I am glad to be home though, and quietly happy that it’s raining so I have the perfect excuse to stay inside, unpack, potter around, drink tea, catch up on some reading, listen to the rain falling, and have some quality introvert time. Woke up to a terrific thunderstorm and lightning show – one of my favourite things. Praise God for a terrific week, for lives being changed, and for the power of The Word.
the big adventure
Jan 10th, 2012 by lesley
So, how did the Big Adventure go? Happily, apart from a few challenges – getting the stroller on and off the train and dealing with some early tears (hers, not mine) – we had a great time together. Miss Molly was very well behaved. Everything I asked her to do, she did without any fuss. (e.g. “When we reach that big orange sign, I need you to get back in the stroller, OK?” “OK.”) Seriously, it was that easy. No doubt about it, the day was drenched in grace and answered prayer. Rather than a blow-by-blow account of the day, these are the highlights and key memories:
* Doing jigsaw puzzles at 8.00am (!)
* Colouring-in on the train. We did that for quite a while.
* Molly discovering the City Rail map and explaining in great detail how we would travel to the city via the South Coast and the lower Blue Mountains. Repeatedly.
* Strollering down to the Quay from Wynyard.
* Stopping to point out a huge Christmas tree only to discover that Molly was asleep … 45 minutes before the performance started.
* Wondering what the heck I should do …
* Relaxing and concluding that if we miss the start, or the entire show, that’s OK. Molly clearly needed a nap.
* Molly waking up 15 minutes before the start. (Yes!)
* Rushing to pick up the tickets, park the stroller in the cloakroom, and get to the loo, which we did with minutes to spare.
* Seeing Molly’s face light up when the show started. (Yes!)
* Molly turning to me from time to time with a huge grin. (Yes!)
* Pretending I was 3-years-old too and singing and doing actions along with everyone else.
* Walking to the end of the Opera House forecourt after the show to stretch our legs and blow bubbles across the harbour.
* Molly pushing the stroller back because, “The trolley is tired and needs a rest.” Awww. How thoughtful!
* Catching the train to Town Hall and strollering down to Darling Harbour to Brother Mark’s work. (I was getting pretty good at strollering by this time!)
* Wondering whether I could ever work in banking. Have you seen this place?
* Watching with delight and amusement as Brother Mark introduced his beloved daughter to his colleagues, superiors, the cleaners, random passers-by. Just kidding. He is a very proud father.
* Playing in the massive playground at Darling Harbour after lunch. Swings, sand-pit, slippery dip, balancing ropes – you name it, we did it.
* The awesome water feature, complete with channels, gates to dam the water or redirect the flow, pumps, pools, water wheels. If I hadn’t been holding all our stuff, I would have been in there with Molly and all the other kids.
* Blowing more bubbles outside the Commonwealth Bank building.
* Climbing all over the funky colourful furniture in the lobby. (Molly, not me. Well, sometimes me too.)
* Not caring if security came. What are they going to do? Kick out a 3-year-old?
* Waiting for Brother Mark to finish work and drive us home.
* Arriving home at about 6.30. Ready for bed at 7.00.
It was a very long day, but heaps of fun, and we made some excellent memories. I have even greater respect and admiration for parents, especially single parents, who are responsible for caring for and entertaining their kids day-in, day-out. Brother Mark says I have officially passed The Test. Yay me! Photos below. Click to enlarge.
Molly soaking up the vibe on her first visit to Sydney Harbour
Molly's photo of me during lunch.
Tags: molly