wait for the Lord

i was afraid of last night.

two weeks ago, we tried getting together with some new neighbors who are wanting to build intentional community and try being "missional" together.

lots of awkward silences, culminating in a rousing discussion about how to most effectively get rid of raccoons in your attic.

not exactly what i had pictured, and i was really not looking forward to last nights second meeting.

ah, but isn't that where the Lord meets us?  in the places we do not want to be (jonah)...

the best part is, it wasn't even perfect.  we still talked about the raccoons, but this time it was much more entertaining and playful as we felt so much more comfortable with each other.

there were lots of awkward silences as we sat around eating hot dogs and drinking beer.  we kept using babies to get us out of tough spots ("she is just SO cute!  look at her little expression right now!  i think she just burped...").

but then, magic.

we decided to share our stories, how we grew up and how we got to san antonio (there must be some reason why we are all here)...

as we prayed, the Presence came in through closed doors.

scripture seeped into hearts and was then spilled out to share and encourage, inspire.

psalm 27.  wait for the Lord.

and i realized that david and i  had been waiting for the Lord.  waiting in what felt like exile in texas, for this night--for believers to meet with in our neighborhood who wanted to open us and themselves up to a grand Adventure.

i am finally excited about the future again.

i love...

last night, we watched adventureland.

not what we had expected, but we liked it for sure.

the two main characters reminded us of what it was like to be falling in love.

for us, in college at whitworth , when we would just stare at each other in the car and be so in tune with how we felt about the other person that we could think of nothing else.

we talked about how funny and annoying it would be now to find the other one staring at us while we drove.  but back then, we could have just stared at each other for hours, feeling the music of our souls and drinking it all in.  and that is exactly what we did back then.

so after the movie, we talked a lot about where we were and where we are now in our love.

tonight, i was listening to david wilcox , one of our absolute favorite artists.  i was reminded of this beautiful song that was supposed to be our first dance together at our wedding, but we forgot to put it on the playlist.

:/

anyway.

enjoy and think of the one you sing this to.



lyrics:


I love your sense of humor
I love to see you smile
I love your sense of balance
I love your sense of time

I love your music in the morning
Your rhythm in the night
But it's your kindness
That shines so bright

Yes I love your beauty
I love your sexy moves
But more I love your honesty
You always tell the truth

I love your vision of the future
Your hope that never dies
But it's your kindness that clears my skies

Yes I love your wisdom
Your knowledge of the past
Your willingness to listen
And taste for what will last

Your compassion for the suffering
And your solid happiness
But it's your kindness that I love best

I love...
I love...
I love...

ads

full disclosure: i put google ads on the sidebar of my blog to see if i could get any revenue. if you feel like it, click on a link, but i know you're all too smart to do that, so...

sorry! just seeing if its worth anything.

have a nice day.

adventures close to home

**taken directly from a book i just rediscovered: succulent wild woman by SARK...

women deserve adventurous lives. as little girls, we served flower petals on plates made of leaves, and imaginary liquid in thimbles, wearing skirts made of old tablecloths.

we adventured on our bicycles, which turned into imaginary horses. there were daily adventures, close to home, beneath the clothesline, in homemade forts, in our best friends' bedrooms.

as adult women, we can become more sedate, less experimental--we develop "adventure amnesia" and don't even remember what is lost.

then we're invited to a tea party and feel a fizz of excitement. or, we take a "miracle walk" in our neighborhood, just to look at trees. we go out dancing together and wear wild nail polish...

we remember our adventurous souls. i like to take my sleeping bag and drive to the county during comet active times. i hike to a hilly spot and watch shooting stars.

full moon hiking is another grand adventure. extending our antennae can produce adventures in "ordinary places".

while walking on a cliffside trail with my friend, debbie, around the bend appeared a man in an elegant suit and tie--as though he had just walked out of a magazine. i complimented his appearance loudly and heartily, and he grinned and introduced us to his 2 japanese friends, also wearing suits. they disappeared down the path, and we laughed at the incongruity of it.

a tiny adventurous moment, close to home. it changes your perspective, reminds you that the world is deep and rich and full of colors and miracles.

fill your life with tiny and large adventurous moments...

...we must be open to adventure--seek it out, ask questions, dare to talk to strangers.

women are oppressed by fears in this society. it's true. it's not safe. neither is staying home, hiding from an adventurous life. take self-defense, use your intuition and caution, walk in pairs and groups, but please, come out of your houses, apartments and cars.

least of these

today was rough.

lots of ish happened that made me exhausted emotionally and physically--david was sick, josiah threw up all over me, some contractors gave us a good idea of what we need to do to fix our leaking basement, lots of loads of laundry and dirty diapers...

david said to me: babe, you've worked so hard today and done so much. tonight, when josiah goes to bed, you should just go and do something--whatever you want to do! you deserve it!

my first thought was: yes! a night out with a friend to eat and drink and be merry after working super hard all day! this will be so fun!

but i suddenly felt very lonely.

there still arent many people in san antonio that i feel i know all that well--well enough to call up on a tuesday night for a little food and wine and laughter...

my best friend, dirty, and i talked for awhile and she was sympathetic and sweetly prayed for me as i wept for feeling so lonely.

i trudged into whole foods and dropped $15 on pizza, mississippi mud (large, cheap beer) and a chococlate bar, then headed to walgreens to check out the movies at the redbox.

near the redbox was a black man in a wheelchair. in his lap were some bags from walgreens and a book, a blanket over his legs. he called out to me, asking me how i was. i gave the typical answer: "i'm doin' alright, how are you?" even though my face was still tight from having just been crying.

his reply to my "how are you?" was, at first, simply: "homeless." i looked up from the redbox. "thank you so much for asking," he went on.

we talked for awhile, i shook his hand multiple times and i admitted finally that today had been a rough day and that i wasn't simply just "alright". his ministered to me and spoke Truth about Who and Whose i really am.

he is one of the first homeless people i have met who didn't obviously have mental health issues--and i've met a lot of homeless people. it broke my heart that as we talked he told of his very basic, real human needs, confiding that he hadn't been able to bathe in over a week and that he was very self-conscious about the way he smelled.

he expressed anger and sadness toward the people on the bus that treat him differently because of how he smells currently and he called it what it is: selfishness. that they can't get out of themselves enough to even consider that he may be unable to find a place to bathe.

i didnt have any cash on me, but i wanted to give him all my christmas money.

when i got in the car, i still felt the impression of his hand in mine as we shook hands upon saying goodbye.

i haven't cried about anyone other than myself in such a long time and it felt so awful and so right.

God! provide for your child, byron!

virtual insanity

I love adbusters. There is a lot of stuff there that really makes me think about my life, about the kingdom of God, about the way I want/need to live.

One of the feature articles is about how there are two companies that will erase your virtual identity for you so that you are no longer enslaved to a virtual life that you must keep up with, waste time on...

I am torn. Social networking has been helpful in many ways--I love people so much and enjoy connecting with old friends and catching up on people's lives. I also love having a way to sneak in a random comment every now again when someone from my past appears in a dream or a memory. But if I calculated the amount of time David and I both spend on social networking sites and gmail, it would be embarrassing. I love technology, but I do wonder when the frenzy to be overly connected will stop or at least slow down.

I was given a book by David's grandmother for Christmas, I Capture the Castle. It's not a life-changing story or anything, but it has felt so good to just read a book instead of read whatever is online and tickles my fancy for the moment. It has made me feel more alive.

I think I am going to think about spending less time online this year. I definitely am going to commit a little virtual suicide for sure. I think that my name and information have just been sprayed haphazardly across the internets way too much.

It's time to be a little less "known".

http://suicidemachine.org/

http://www.seppukoo.com/

He Lives in You

I was going to blog about the spiritually significant and inspiring experience of The Lion King last night, but my thoughtful husband beat me to it.

Watch this, then read his entry. And forget the British people at the beginning. And see The Lion King. It is so worth it.