Hubber

I had great intentions to put a lot more effort into this blog, but alas I have been diverted away writing here yet again. However, this time it is intentional, rather than my more regular drifting in and out of blogdom. I have joined Hubpages, and am attempting to complete the 30 day challenge to write one hub (aka post) daily for 30 days. So far I am achieving my goal, but I am not quite half way. It is an attempt to see if I can make a little money writing. So far I have earned one cent, so giving up my day job is not imminent. I don’t expect to write much here for a while. If you are interested to see what I am “hubbing” about, you can check it out here.

Scars into stars.

Crystal Cathedral on edge
I did not grow up in a Christian home.  I never attended church or Sunday School, and only found my way to youth group in my later teens.  To save a very long story, my mother has always had a simple faith that was at least partly fed by TV.  In those days there was no Joyce Meyer on the screen, or Hillsong etc.  But Sundays could always be counted on for the “Hour of Power” (straight after a Catholic service that as a child struck me as mysterious and weird).  My mother loved Hour of Power, and Dr Robert Schuller.  And she supported him financially.  We had the gadgets.  Keys to positive thinking.  Books of promises.   A quick google search readily finds a string of quotes from Schuller.  I can’t believe I found one I remembered – “Turn your scars into stars“.  I am sure we had a key ring, pendant, piece of crystal or something with those words engraved on it.    Looking back, it was an apt phrase.  In a funny way, it gave us something to hang on to.  To hope for.  Schuller was certainly a peddler of hope.

I have never watched the show as an adult, and had all but forgotten that chapter of my life until I read on Scott’s blog that the Crystal Cathedral is now bankrupt.  The comments on the article from “Christianity Today” were interesting.  People seem to be blaming female leadership (Schuller’s daughter), wrong leadership decisions, the need for  Schuller Snr to move on.  As of tonight, only one comment questioning the validity of the 20th Century church phenomenon captured so well by the crystal cathedral.  Time to look outside the glass house.

Rust.

I took out my classical guitar tonight, for the first time in many months.  I then spent over an hour trying to locate my classical music from the joyful days when I used to be able to afford the time for guitar lessons.  One of my favourite pieces to play was Suit no 1 for Cello by Bach.  To my dismay I could not even complete the first page.  I have always been fascinated by how my fingers remember what to play more quickly than my brain does.  A neurological phenomenon of course.  However, even this knowing failed me.  I am truly rusty.  Out of practice(p): impaired in skill by neglect, according to wordnetweb.

U2 sing about love turning to rust (Where the streets have no name).  Love impaired in skill by neglect.  Perhaps skill is the wrong word.  But love, faith, and classical guitar can all be impaired by neglect.  I am in what I have defined as a “quiet place” within my faith.  I think of it as not lost or dead, but quietly ruminating.  Perhaps to be honest, it is in hibernation.   The U2 song comes from the album “The Joshua Tree” – a long time favorite.  A rare album that has remained loved from my angst ridden teens to now.   The album art features a Joshua tree, apparently named by the Mormons because it’s form reminded them of Joshua reaching his hands up to the sky in prayer.  A tree of prayer, of life, in a barren desert.  The sort of place where love could turn to rust.   Where life can be found.  And faith.