2011/29 & expectations

well. happy new year! i used to hate that my birthday was on the same day as the last day of the year. no pressure. not only the weight of "did you live the last calendar year to your full potential?" but also "how was this last chronological year?" gah. for a girl who thinks all.the.time. and gets all caught up in memories (and regrets) it's hard. it always has been. i'm hoping it won't always be.

so my birthday ended up...nothing like i expected. not bad, just not what i had planned (i had planned quiet cups of coffee, a walk outside, hours shopping in anthropologie, books read by my still lit christmas tree). it ended up being one quiet cup of coffee, lunch with the fam, seeing War Horse (soo. good. go see it!!), running in and out of anthro, chipotle for dinner and catching up with dear, dear friends.

About half way through my day i laughed at my failed plans and unmet expectations. Why would the last day of 2011, be any different than the year as a whole? again. not bad. it wasn't a bad year, not at all. The resounding theme just seemed to be my expectations not being met. probably because the things i were expecting, hoping in would always disappoint. i blame no one but myself.

in the unmet expectations-i got to experience so much more than i could have thought (expected) this year. ironic. mainly. i found myself on a plane to a new favorite place every oh, 2 months or so. what a beautiful (and expensive) addiction.


[downtown portland at night]


[rocky mountains]


[frontier ranch, co]


[pikes market, seattle]


[fairhaven, wa]


[sandpoint, id]


[great grandmas ranch house, bonners ferry, id. mom & i]


[ft.lewis, wa. my little bro on the left. stud]


[montreat college, nc]


what will 2012 hold? i think its too early to tell, although i already have tickets to San Jose in march...so i have a feeling it will be a grand, grand year.

homes. and people. with a touch of whimsy

Night of Musical Whimsy 2010 from Ben Welstead on Vimeo.

my friends ben & rene had this wonderful idea last year. they decided to get their friends together for a 'night of musical whimsy'. if you played an instrument, any instrument, bring it. if you didn't play anything, well. shoot. you could play a tambourine. or rip pages out of a phone book. they printed out lyrics and chords. and played. and sang. when they showed me the video i smiled as tears brimmed my eyelids. so beautiful. and fun.

i thought about this video today as i was sitting alone in my apartment. as a high, high Extrovert, long periods of alone time are hard on my little heart. my heart is most full when homes are FULL of people. my home. other peoples homes. it doesn't matter. just homes. and people. if you ask me to name the 'best.nights.ever' the common theme is easy to spot. lots of people. in a home. possibly around a table. bonus points if twinkle lights are involved.

i think i need to do this. friends. instruments. music. beer. food. twinkle lights. whimsy. you're all invited. i call dibs on the tambourine though. ;)

heel-toe

the trail that I run on runs right across the street from Southwest Early College Campus. It's a beautiful building, all limestone and windows...but as most kcmo schools, filled with students who are struggling.

Lately I've seen Southwest kids running on the trail after school. There are two teachers who (I'm assuming here) have started an after school running club. I LOVE running by these kids. Seeing them exploring something I love makes my heart explode. Knowing the purpose and strength and discipline running, heck, any sport can give them makes me smile. Everyday it's the same crew. There's the girl with the cat ear headband who says "hi" every time she sees me. The young guy who is always way ahead, with the most determined face I've ever seen. These kids run in regular shoes. Regular clothes. A far cry from most of the Garmin pacing, dry-fit wearing runners that usually occupy the trail (I'm totally in that latter category-lest I judge).

Earlier this week all the students were running together. There was one guy-he looked more like a lineman than a runner-who was running toward the end of the pack. I loved that he didn't fit the stereotype, yet was still out there doing the work. As I passed by him I heard him saying under his breath "heel-toe. Heel-toe. Heel-toe."

I almost lost it. How many times have I been on the trail doing WHATEVER it took to keep going? How many times have I wanted to quit only to convince myself that I could make it to the next street. The next block.

Sometime life feels like that. Doing anything I can to make it to the next day. Out of breath. Tired. Worn out. Knowing I can make it, but just slightly afraid I can't. it's those times when i most want to give up, that doing the work matters. Staying the course. Taking a new grip with tired hands. How ever you want to say it-it's all the same. Heel-toe. Heel-toe.

And then. I thought I was through. Done. over it. Then, before I even know it. I've changed old habits. Believed new truths. Acted differently. ran more miles than I can count. Not through fancy gps watches and heart monitors and clothes that wick sweat. Nope. Just like linebackerturnedrunner southwest guy. heel-toe.

pickin' me a boquet of dogwood flowers

the longest i've ever lived in one place was a little stucco duplex at ft. bragg, nc. we moved there when i was 8. 1990. i remember it was like 3 weeks before school ended. and they made me go to the last 3 weeks of 2nd grade. at a totally new school. with the meanest teacher i've ever had. she didn't like my handwriting-and would tell me so, every single day. we lived in that same house until the end of 7th grade. 1995. 5 years.

the housing area (military speak for neighborhood) we lived in was safe, so we were given free reign to pretty much do whatever we wanted. just as long as we were in by the time the street lights turned on. we'd ride our bikes, pretending they were horses galloping through the fields. i can't tell you how many forts i built. or the 'houses' we made out of pine needles. or the number of times i almost fell off the rope swing and into the creek. every year on the last day of school we'd have a shaving cream/pine cone fight. i know. weird. we'd get off the bus, run to our backyards to get the cans of shaving cream our mom's had left out and go at it. when you ran out of shaving cream you just started throwing pine cones. i lived outside. we all did.

a week and a half ago i was back in the land of the pines. i hadn't been back in 16 years. i was there for a wedding. my first friend, jenna's, actually. we met when i was in 5th grade, she in 6th. she liked the boy who liked me. she told me that it was ok, and i could have him, because she wanted to be friends with me more than she wanted to date him. and 16 years later i stood next to her as she married the man of her dreams.

it was the most surreal thing-the whole weekend. most army kids don't have life long friends they keep in touch with. we hadn't seen each other since high school. it didn't matter. it instantly felt familiar. safe. like i had wandered into a dream. her wedding was at the college she went to, where we had gone to camp one summer. montreat college, nestled deep in the mountains. it was literally a dream. those dreams that you're not sure if you're awake or asleep. it seems too perfect for you to be awake...but its so real-you have to be.

her family loves well. really, really well. and it was all sorts of southern culture at its best. i'm sure i blew through all of the southern social cues. and i'm also fairly certain they didn't quite know what to do with a feisty red head from kansas city. but we covered those miscues and awkward moments with lots of wine and lots of food. and laughter. dang. i laughed more than i have laughed in a long, long time.

the last night i was there looked around the room. kids a few years out of college. retired generals who had fought in multiple wars. wives. sisters. mothers. brothers. friends. all playing the craziest game of catch phrase ever. harassing each other like best friends. like family. because we were. in the military your friends ARE your family.

as i drove down the mountain on the way back to the airport i smiled through tears. smiling at the scent of pines as i drove down the highway. smiling as i continued to remember stories about growing up with jenna. smiling as i remembered times with my family there. holidays. and vacations. and daily life. tears fell softly as i drove further and further away from a place that loved me well that weekend. that had always loved me well. they say you can never go home again. and i beg to differ.

granted, i'll be the first to admit that when the longest you've lived in one house is 5 years, your concept of home is gonna be pretty jacked. but when you breathe in deeply, mountain air and feel the most alive you've felt. and then exhale and feel like all the peace in the world is yours, that counts.

so a week and a half later i'm still reconciling it all. trying to figure it all out and trying to not think about it. untangling the strings. untying the knots. and then retying some. letting it be what it is. letting me be who i am.

(and wouldn't you know i didn't take one photo. shoot.)

hope .

my life is a little scattered lately. and by a little, i really mean a whole heck of a lot. there isn't much that feels normal. or stable. or consistent. and the things that are, i'm clinging to them for dear life. like a wood plank in the middle of rapids. or what i assume rapids would feel like. this is what i was surrounded by saturday night.


in the midst of chaos, i'm clinging to hope.

i'm clinging to it with everything i've got right now.

on friday night a few friends and i went to vintage in lawrence for their good friday service. the pastor, seth, challenged us to think of a short phrase of what hope is to us. i lost the little sheet we were handed when we walked in, so i just started writing in my journal.

my hope:
that you don't abandon me. that you're right there leading me-that you've prepared a place for me. that i fit. that i belong. that in your suffering you've created a place for my heart to be me. fully me. quirky. alive. silly. emotional. intense. my hope is that you've gone before me. you know and have brought me to this. you knew what you were doing when you created me and i delight you

everyone who hadn't lost their papers in the 5 min we were supposed to hold onto them, then passed them to the ushers. after a few more songs, they wheel out a cross with everyone's papers tacked to a cross. seth talked about what the original good friday was like to the disciples. everything they had believed in, everything that they had trusted, and hoped in was on the cross. He asked us to think what it would have been like if we didn't know that sunday was coming. if what we had written down was dissolved right in front of us.

i looked back in my journal and fought back tears.

i absolutely can't imagine if i didn't have hope.

and that's the difference between then and now. is that i know the end of the story. i don't need to run and hide on friday because i know that my God is alive! and that my hope is secure in him.

i know all this sounds overly dramatic, and i'm well aware that not everything in my life is shifty. it just feels that way. i'm packing up a home that has been lovely for the last 14 months. putting things in boxes not really knowing where i'm going. closing one chapter, a little unsure of what the next one holds. its a little unsettling, to say the least. living in a half packed home, is just awkward. and annoying. so its really no surprise to me that this week, these verses have brought hope. and stability.

"be strong and courageous! don't be afraid for the lord your God will personally go ahead of you. he will neither fail, nor abandon you..." deut 31:6

"i've picked you. i haven't dropped you. don't panic. i'm with you. there is no need to fear, for i'm your God. i'll give you strength. i'll help you. i'll hold you steady, keep a firm grip on you" isa 41:9-10"

"and the peace i give is a gift the world cannot give. so don't be troubled or afraid." john 14:27

(exhale)

"so take a new grip with your tired hands and strengthen your weak knees..." heb 12:12

(inhale)

its sunday. and i'm excited! real excited! because i DO have hope. and Christ. and promises that i can believe. and and incredible friends, who are letting me live in guest rooms, and storing my stuff. friends who remind me who i am. what's true about me. what's true about Jesus.

i have no idea whats next.

"...yet i still dare to hope" lamentations 3:21

here .

i like to think a quiet blog equates to a really crazy real life, with no time to write about it... or maybe its just laziness. either way...my real life has been crazy lately. breathtakingly beautiful. but crazy busy. things are stirring, and i'm doing my best to see how it all is sorting out. weekend trips to the mountains always help with the sorting out of the stirring.

right now i'm sitting in a delightful (big) kitchen, drinking some french press, eating organic yogurt topped with home made (gluten free) granola. its a little gray and wet outside, finally. the last two days have been sunny and dry. bellingham pulled out all the stops to make me feel at home. but i'm loving the gray. and the rain. and the french press. especially the french press.

i don't have many words yet, about this place. about being here. i feel like i've been simultaneously trying to be present and soak it in, and also be little miss nancy drew, analyzing everything. how did this feel? what does that look like? do you like this? them? oh.my.stars. its exhausting. a friend called last night. and reminded me just how tiring it was, and challenged me to just be here. just laugh. and enjoy. to listen to stories, and tell them, and just be.

what a concept...

so i'm here. no solid words. and only one photo uploaded.



seattle and i. we look great together, don't ya think?

it always is

art=happy

the lord leads with unfailing love and faithfulness. psalm 25:10

it's been a long week. one of those weeks, where loving people doesn't overflow and abound (bitterness, anger, and hurt, that's abounding in plenty). love, actually, hasn't been my first response in any situation this week. yikes. and SUCK.

so i've had to force myself. and remind myself. over and over. and then some more. lead with love, anna. lead with love.

so, today's a new day. that i'm sure will be full of opportunities to be hurt, and frustrated, and tired, and angry. but i'm also pretty positive that those will actually be opportunities to let love seep in, to let it overflow.

for it to be the only answer.

joy

amy and i laughing hysterically. which results in my mouth wide open and my eyes disappearing. i can't help it, and really, i actually love it.

photo by becca spears

every january i try to set a word, or intention for the year. generally it comes out of the blue and i just roll with it. last year i don't remember having a word, but i felt like it was going to be a hard, pruning year. note to self. if you set an intention of "pruning" don't be surprised if God does just that. :)

this year my word is joy.

i just decided that this year would be marked with JOY. the laugh so hard you cry, joy. the i can't believe how absolutely incredible God is, joy. the delight in the little things, joy.

sometimes joy comes easy. and sometimes it has to be fought for. sometimes i can see it coming from a mile away, and other times it comes in the least of expected places. and sometimes its just not there.

i was reading "Into the Wild" this morning and was reminded of this, of where joy comes from. i get a little nervous about being inspired by a book where the main character drops everything to wander into the alaskan woods, and then dies. lord knows i don't need any inspiration to drop everything and head west. but what alex wrote struck me.

"you are wrong if you think Joy emanates only or principally from human relationships. God has placed it all around us. it is in everything and anything we might experience. we just have to have the courage to turn against our habitual lifestyle and engage in unconventional living.

my point is that you do not need me or anyone else to bring this new kind of light into your life. it is simply waiting out there for you to grasp it, and all you have to do is reach for it. The only person you are fighting is yourself and your stubbornness to engage in new circumstances." -into the wild, jon krakauer

there are those times when joy is just hard. when i'm trying to search frantically for it and it takes everything i have not to cuss, (and usually end up cussing anyway), much less to find joy in anything. probably because i'm pretty consumed with myself in those moments. i think that's what alex is getting at in his letter to ron. That when we're wrapped up with ourselves, its no surprise that joy is hard to find. but when we open our eyes to people around us, when we choose to live life a little differently, when we chose to do the hard, unfamiliar things, joy surprisingly floods in.

its hard work. these new things. this unfamiliar life. holy, is it ever! but to me, its worth it. joy is worth it.

"... ride out to victory, defending truth, humility, and justice. go forth and perform awe-inspiring deeds! ... you love justice and hate evil. therefore God, your God, has anointed you, pouring out the oil of joy on you more than on anyone else." psalm 45:4&7

yup. that sounds about right.

hey normal day!

29 blackstreet

sometimes i search out some big grand thing. i create some incredible moment that will top all other moments. the BEST.EVER. if you will.

and those are great, and i really, really love them. but i also love the normal ones.

the plain white t-shirt and scarf days.

sometimes, those are my favorite.
always, they are sweet to the soul.

i'm excited about the normalcy of today!

31 days

i'd say i'm a pretty unique looking person. most everyone else says so too. not in a bad way (i don't think), just in the way that not very many people know very many six foot tall girls with long red hair. shoot, i don't know any other tall redheads. wait. i do know one! and she's beautiful.

Here's what happens with redheads. we're used to being the only ones. so when we see another, much less one with the exact same color hair, or height or whatnot, we stare. And then we (or maybe it's just me) strike up conversation. generally about our hair. or how beautiful they are. At least that's what I did to Jessie. I was sitting next to hear at The Big Table and said "hi jessie. I'm anna. I've noticed you at jacobs well before. just got excited about another tall redhead. your hair is beautiful". yep. welcome to awkward.

but its not awkward. its actually really awesome. because that's pretty much how susannah and i met. She came up to me one day after the gathering and immediately commented on my hair. see, suz and i have the same hair. well. the same color. her's is short and saucy. mine long and wild.

we also have the same crooked smile.

and only dress up as redheaded characters on halloween.

Annie and Ariel (you know. when she first got legs on the beach and Scuttle wraps her up in a sail? favorite costume to date!)

Mrs. Incredible and Hott Donna from That 70s Show

we also look incredible in the same colors, and tend to often dress alike.

AND, the probably the most exciting, we have the SAME BIRTHDAY! Now, this generally would be no big deal, i know lots of friends with the same birthday. But when your birthday is on New Years Eve, it's a big deal. Those without NYE birthdays will probably never understand our excitement for finding someone like us. Those with Valentines birthdays come about the closest.

New Years Eve might be the most awkward day of the year. its the day to take stock in what your year amounted too. successes, failures, washes. its also the day you start thinking about the next year, what adventure is to come, just around the corner. And then there are the parties, which are generally AWESOME and involve party dresses, confetti, dancing and noisemakers. but then there's midnight. which goes back to awkward. enough said about that. moral of the story: as incredible as the parties are, they are generally never about us. you know. the who were born?!?! overshadowed by the whole world celebrating new beginnings. travesty!

so its an awkward day in general. MUCH LESS having that as your birthday. Needless to say, it feels great to share that lament with someone. So we decided this year, forget birthdays. not even birthweek. we're going for a whole birthMONTH baby! 31 days of pure unadulterated celebration.


So, sus(anna)h, on the first day of december, happy birthMONTH to us!!

for amy .

dear friends. go here now.
i promise it will be worth it . a million times over .
i have lots i could say about her . and how much i love her .

but it would be raw .
and beautiful .
and full of inside jokes that no one would get .

so here are some words i didn't write . but they're grand . and perfect for today .

Thank you. Thank you, and keep going. Please keep writing songs. Please keep believing in music, because we do, and we need it, and specifically, we need yours. we need the sounds and words and rhythms of hope and longing and beauty. We need the drums and the strings and the haunting twist of your voice. we need the poetry of your lyrics and the spirit and force of your sounds. We're desperate for great music, and there's so much out there, but never enough. We're desperate for great storytellers, great painters, great dancers, great cooks, because art does something nothing else does. Art slips past our brains straight into our bellies. it weaves itself into our thoughts and feelings and the open spaces in our souls, and it allows us to live more and say more and feels more. great eart says the things we wished someone would say out loud, the things we wish we could say out loud.

- shauna niequist : cold tangerines

thank you . stormy one .

a little mumford for your monday

Mumford & Sons - The Banjolin Song / Awake my soul from La Blogotheque on Vimeo.

mumford&sons. in an alley. in paris. in french. be still my heart.

every monday should start like this.

growing .

parker fitzgerald

i've been thinking about this alot lately. growing.

there are so many times i want to appear as arrived. fully grown. that i've got it all together. i want to look nice and presentable not a care in the world. why yes, i did bake that apple pie, from scratch, while wearing a cocktail dress and heels. this facade generally doesn't last very long. it quickly unravels, ending up a heap on the floor. all the while, i'm left scrambling trying to cover myself.

this revealing. being revealed. its hard stuff. owning the places that i'm broken is even harder. sharing my scars, letting the cool air on them, isn't easy, it's terrifying actually. But it's also deeply healing. my story, as crazy and random and inconsequential as i think it is, really matters. my pain and my broken places matter. not only for me, but for those who I share my life with. my story points to a bigger Story. my hope points to a greater Hope. my pain points to some really awesome Redemption. my playing dress up only points to me.

"There is nothing small or inconsequential about our stories. There is in fact nothing bigger. And when we tell the truth about our lives-the broken parts, the secret parts, the beautiful parts-the Gospel comes to life, an actual story about redemption, instead of abstraction and theory and things you learn in sunday school"

Shauna Niequist, Bittersweet

most days it's not so clear where i'm at, or even where i'm headed. what it doesn't require - a whole lot of dressing up. it does require growing.

diamond earrings

I'm wearing diamond earrings today. Which isn't necessarily worth noting. Except-I don't like diamonds. Hear that boys? I.don't.like.diamonds. But these earrings were a gift from a dear friend/old roommate natasha. What? Your roommates don't buy you diamond earrings?!?!?

See, I dated a guy for three and a half-ish years in high school/college. I'm sure by Christmas of my freshman year of college I was begging for an engagement ring. Let's be honest. I was probably asking for one well before that. We'd been dating for about 3 years at this point. I mean, totally a respectable time to start asking for such gifts.

I don't remember what I got that year.

And the next year was hard. As it sometimes gets. And we just started going through the motions of dating. And drifting apart. I do remember what I wanted for that Christmas, diamond earrings. I figured I wasn't getting a ring anyway, and if worst came to worst, at least I'd have a pair of diamond earrings.

We celebrated Christmas in combination with my birthday (such is the life of being born a week after Christmas) that year. And he handed me a little wrapped box. "yes! diamond earrings!!!" I thought as I started to unwrap it.

Not diamond earrings. A diamond ring. My heart sank. At this point I knew we probably wouldn't last long and how I felt when I saw the ring confirmed that. Before you label me as a complete jerk and worst.person.ever I did get over my initial feeling, smiled huge and slipped that puppy on my finger. For about 2 months, until we broke up.

I told this story to Natasha one day. And then forgot about it. Until one birthday/Christmas combo she hands me a little box. 5 years after the first little box. I opened it. Diamond earrings.

I don't wear them often. but when I do, the sparkle surprises me. The little glint reminds me that sometimes really good gifts take a little while. And that I do have the absolute BEST friends in the world!!!

my most favorite things

its tuesday evening. a breezy, fall one at that. i'm drinking my first ever iced coffee. the roasterie windows are open. sigh. fall is my favorite. for so many reasons. mainly because i slow down. i open my eyes and realize how blessed i am. this usually leads to me finding a million "new" favorite things. maybe they aren't that new after all? maybe they are, but none the less. i get really excited about them.

. like goat cheese. pretty sure that the way to my heart is through goat cheese.

. and wine.

. her too. glory be. like pirouettes drifting...

. and twinkle lights. best invention ever! especially when they're hung outside.

. over a big table.

amys iphone

. and eating by candlelight when the transformer blows and the twinkle lights go out.

. and getting woken up by little boy whispers. and karate chops. and french phrases.

. running in the coolness, but still warm enough to wear a tank top and get tan.

. baking. and lots of it.

. while wearing a vintage apron. in the last 2 weeks, i've baked 4 apple pies, one batch of pumpkin cookies, and a loaf of banana bread. my house smells heavenly.

. reading. all.day.long.

. this book. amazing. probably my favorite read this year. go buy it immediately!!

. my favorite reading chair (i have a reading chair!!!) that used to belong to a dear friend.

. open windows.

. while its raining.

. my pajama pants. that actually aren't even mine. i don't own any pajama pants. weird. i know. which makes me love them more. a dear friend let me borrow them when i stayed at her house, and i literally run home and change into them. there is just something so great. so perfect about them. so peaceful and restful. i know sometime i'm going to have to give them back. sigh.


but until then... ;)

on naming

This is by far my favorite scene in blood diamond. Where a father speaks to his son. Speaks to his deep heart, the heart that longs to be fully known. He knows his name. He reminds him where he belongs, what he loves, who loves him. All these things that have been stolen from Dia, his father returns.

I was talking to a friend about redeeming stories. How our stories are being rewritten, beautifully redeemed. Where disappointment has been known, encouragement floods in. Beauty for ashes. Blessing for mourning. Praise for despair. It actually reminded me of being children. Going back to that place before life happened. Running through fields. Playing dress up in bedrooms. Precious hearts that trusted fully and hoped unswervingly.

But we grow up. Life happens. Little by little pieces get stolen. We steal from others. We became afraid to hope. Afraid to dream. Afraid to trust. Somewhere, along the way, we forgot who we were. We forget who we are. We forget our names and we assume new ones. The smart one. The beautiful one. The dependable one. The needy one. The one that's not enough. The one that's too much.

We've forgotten our names.

But our Father looks at us. Straight in the eye. And reminds us.

And you will be given a new name by the Lords own mouth. The LORD will hold you in his hand for all to see-a splendid crown in the hand of God. Never again will you be called "the forsaken city" or "the desolate land" your new name will be "the city of God's delight" and "the bride of God". isaiah 62:2-4

He reminded me today.

. annaelyse .

un (planned)

source

I'm a planner. Which is actually a nice way of saying I really, really like to have control of my life. My friend told me last week to turn off my "N" (intuitive-gotta love Myers Briggs) and be a little more "S" (sensory), living life now, not looking so far out and working my way back. He nailed it. How will this decision I make now look in two weeks, 6 months, 5 years? And if I can't see it, or don't like the way I think it will look, I don't do it.

What I have found though is that the COOLEST things happen when I DON'T plan. When I just go with the flow, to be all cliche. point taken.


So I've decided to let go of the life I've planned...eh...controlled. And to just live. Every.single.moment. I'm not sure exactly what that looks like, but then again, I guess that's the point. :)

be.here.now.

I was having a conversation with a friend earlier this week and she was encouraging me to practice being more present. I agreed with her wholeheartedly. Not sooner than "yeah, totally" left my lips my brain had taken off on a spiral How am I going to get anything done if I'm just being present? If I don't think about the future, am I just going to look back 10 years from now and realize that I've done nothing? That's one of my biggest fears, I'm not sure how this is going to work???? She saw me up in my head, freaking out, and asked what was going on. I verbalized the dialogue. She looked at me and laughed. "So, you're worrying right now, about how in the future, you'll look back and realize you haven't done anything?" yeah. Its as ridiculous as it sounds.

Elizabeth Gilbert says it this way in her book Eat Pray Love:

Here's what I caught myself thinking about in meditation this morning. I was wondering where I should live once this year of traveling has ended. I don't want to move back to New York just out of reflex. Maybe a new town, instead. Austin is supposed to be nice. And Chicago has all that beautiful architecture. Horrible winters, though. Or maybe I'll live abroad. I've heard good things about Sydney ... If I lived somewhere cheaper than New York, maybe I could afford an extra bedroom and then I could have a special meditation room! That'd be nice, I could paint it gold. Or maybe a rich blue. No, gold. No, blue...

Finally noticing this train of thought, I was aghast. I thought: Here you are in India, in an Ashram in one of the holiest pilgrimage sites on earth. And instead of communing with the divine, you're trying to plan where you'll be meditating a year from now in a home that doesn't yet exist in a city yet to be determined. How about this, you spastic fool-how about you try to meditate right here, right now, right where you actually are?

The Lord says it this way.

"only in returning to me and resting in me will you be saved. In quietness and confidence is your strength." -isa 30:15


(my friend, Hope, praying on the roof of an ashram we visited while in India)

beautiful things

The other day (or three months ago) Bethany had just gotten back from Nashville where her friend had shared with her this song. She told me about it, "Its really neat. The lyrics are 'You make beautiful things out of the dust...you make beautiful things out of us' I know it sounds a little cheesy, but its really good!" The next day on the way to a meeting we listened to it in the car. Instant favorite! It was playing pretty much non-stop that first month at our house. Then we moved on to other favorites and different seasons. I'd think about it every now and then, but it was mostly forgotten, stored in between Great Lake Swimmers and Hem.

The other night at the Gathering KB sang a "new" song. The lyrics started, "all this pain, I wonder if I'll ever find my way ... ". Bethany and I looked at each other and practically squealed! Back in March this was a just a really sweet song. Back in March I doubt if either of us were ready to receive the fullness of it and the reality it calls out. Well, probably Bethany was, I sure wasn't. I sat there during the message writing the lyrics over and over. Willing them into my heart. They have a whole new meaning this side of June.

Three months later. Sunday. A little dusty, a little weary, and worse for wear. In the throes of transition. " ... hope is springing up from this old ground ... " :)





"Arise, my darling, my beautiful one. See! The winter is past; the rains are over and gone ... the season of singing has come ... Arise, come my darling; my beautiful one, come with me." Song of Solomon 2:10-13

(sigh)

Somewhere we know that without silence, words lose their meaning,
that without listening, speaking no longer heals,
that without distance, closeness cannot cure.
- Henri Nouwen