Hello my beautiful (and manly) care group leaders!!!

I’m so glad we talked about Unity Tuesday night, this has really been a great and never-ending theme lately.
It would be awesome if you could ask the people who came to the retreat what their favorite parts were and how they saw unity played out through the weekend. But if you feel like we’ve talked about it enough and don’t want to leave others out—then no worries!!

Here are some discussion questions:
1) What does it look like for two people to become one, what does it look like for a group to be united or become one?

2) What is the result of unity?

3) Does the world practice or even strive towards unity (companies, families…)? If so, how does it compare with unity within the Church?
-why is unity difficult for the world?
-(more than one goal/one direction–Everest climbers had one goal/direction, yet were not unified)

4) One aspect of unity is using and allowing God to perfect individual gifts. Our gifts are not for boasting in our own talents but are given to us so that we can help others. Do you see this in NAVS? What do you think your gifts are and are you using them to bless the Body?

5) Are you making every effort to maintain unity? If not, how can we strive for that?

You guys are amazing!!! Watch for another email this weekend, because….Yes!! We will be meeting Monday night (5:30-6:30)
Korryn

Mizzou Tigers for Tigers

This is my latest podcast!

This second skin

This new second life I’m living as a reporter creates some interesting tensions for the old Rachel.

As a reporter and budding journalist at the world’s best journalism school (I’m told), I’m shrouded in this new skin of stereotypes: she must be liberal, likely atheist, politically savvy, ruthless with questions and relentlessly nosy. Wrong. There are actually other places that I’d rather be than the newsroom. You won’t catch my napping in the break room if I could be home instead. And that whole religion thing….

Tonight, for probably the first time, I attended a church service for a reason other than worshipping God. I felt like an intruder in an old friend’s house, dressed as a stranger and treated as one. Back row, last pew, headphones on, mike in hand: reporter. Not churchgoer. I was the reason that noisy photographer kept clicking photos in quick burst every 30 seconds or so. Would I want that distraction if it were my church? No. I would want to worship in privacy. I’d want the freedom to not worry how my hair looks or if my shirt is too short.

I smiled grandly at everyone who glanced my way, as if to wordlessly tell them, “I’m one of you! Really!” You know,… wink, wink.

Until I was six or so, my family went to a Methodist church. Don’t think I’ve been in one since, but as I listened to their chants and rehearsed prayers and benedictions, I knew some of the words! I felt strange not singing along with their hymns. I love this God, too, I thought. But that’s not why I’m here. Not directly. Is it? Hmm. There’s a philosophical point for you: if I believe this is the path God wants me on in life, then isn’t a reporting assignment ultimately a moment with God?

I digress. After the service, I chatted with the pastor, and ended up asking him how he felt about the primary results. I was a little bummed myself, since I wanted Huckabee, and am somewhat worried what will become of America with an ungodly president. I told the pastor I wasn’t pleased, and he echoed my sentiments, being careful not to tell me who he had voted for. We danced around the issue for a minute, then dropped it. I don’t know why I didn’t just announce whom I had voted for. I wouldn’t have told someone I knew would dislike my vote, so would telling a fellow Christian have been underhanded? Do I have to uphold this unspoken image of college-student-reporter=Democrat?

All I know is that I’m being labeled, and I don’t like the invisible labels I’m acquiring. I’m not a reporter at heart; that’s not my essence. There might be only a few reporters who would define themselves ultimately as such, but still, it bears mentioning.. So as for me? I’m a bride. A bride in waiting.

comments on racism

 How’s this video for an eye-opener? Black children are asked to make judgments on black dolls and white dolls. Guess which came out on top?

Matchmaker, matchmaker

Podcasts: the cusp of communicatory evolution. At least, they are in my world.

Today I downloaded my first podcast. The action served as homework for my Capstone AgJ class here at Mizzou, and I was given free rein: any podcast that caught my eye. Being the sentimental type, I chose a piece from Chicago Public Radio’s series, “This American Life,” entitled “Matchmakers,” which I assumed would be a fluffy, tender story. Wrong.

The podcast consisted of a prologue and three acts, each set to a different background song and each successively more depressing. The first was a story of a failed romance in Afganistan; the second one was of a Jewish woman who tried (unsuccessfully) to set up a kidney matchmaking service and motivate people to donate a kidney to a complete stranger. The third story was the most disturbing, according to the narrator and also to me. An actress, Elna Baker, tells of her job as a doll saleswoman at the giant toystore, FAO Schwartz. She worked as a “nurse” in a doll “nursery,” selling lifelike dolls to little girls in a pseudo-adoption-agency. What at first was a somewhat boring job, spiced up by slightly malicious “accidents” the “nurses” would feign involving a deformed factory reject doll, turned solemn due to the encroaching push of racism.

Missouri weather: you just never know

Here’s to the mornings you wake up, sun dancing, short-sleeves calling, then by noon tiny ice pellets are lashing you, cold wind whipping your good hair day away.

BUT Missouri has some fantastic sunrises! Have a gander at this one from a few days ago.

On blogging…

Journalists can learn things from bloggers, as I’ve been told. I see the point: we journalists can get stuck in our ways and miss the bus to the next best way to reach the world with news that matters. So now I’m analyzing this new art by perusing a blog called “Teachings of the Horse” over on Blogspot.com. What works well? What needs work? How is this media conducive for the messages being shared?

The author, Victoria Cummings, shares her love for horses and the bits of wisdom she garners from them with her readers. Her latest post, from today, Jan. 28, is about a Hay Fund her vet has started to help farmers afford hay in areas around America where the drought is worst and prices are outrageous. She indicates where to send the money and how to make sure you get a tax deduction. It’s nice that she can link readers to other sites for information or a donation, and that her message is accessible to people nationwide, even worldwide, not just those who subscribe to her paper, for instance.

In her next post, she shares some random facts about herself (at the request of another blogger) and then mentions having difficulty making some links active: “I use a Mac and Firefox, so if anyone has any suggestions, please help me.” How convenient! She can get instant feedback from anyone able to offer advice on her link problem. Sure enough, among the 14 comments she received, she had a piece of computer advice. Some other advantages: being able to post pictures, as many as you want… creativity in layout and design… ease of commenting and sharing of knowledge… freedom to post and to read posts whenever it’s most convenient for you… and best of all, it’s free! Yep, blogging has definite strengths. Weaknesses (not obvious on this site) could include lack of editors, lack of profitability, lack of credibility, and the chance of getting lost in a sea of other voices. Still, I’m beginning to enjoy this medium myself, even if my voice is one of many.

Now that I’m almost famous…

As a budding journalist, I’m learning about the ninth wonder of the world: Convergence. Blogging is my first step into the world of convergence journalism, my upcoming profession’s newest frontier.

This blog shall be my very own personal frontier. Tips on making it a beateous one to the wandering eye are welcome. Shalom!

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