so i was surprised by the feeling of light last night.
i haven't felt that in a really, really long time.
mostly i've just feel like i'm a huge screw-up, i can't get it right, i'm struggling to hold on to the things i believe in. struggling to follow through. spending time in darkness.
but for the first time in a long time, i felt this crazy radiant light. i don't know if it's the company that brought it out in me, or the thoughts i've been sifting through my head, or the way the past few months have brought about the biggest transformation in every single place. the way things have changed so tremendously.
i don't want it to go away.
i want to always feel like light.
things are seriously wild. i'll never, in a million years, understand his ways.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Saturday, April 25, 2009
things are strange.
they're hard to understand for someone with such a little mind. hard to grasp. mostly unreachable. like trying to see underwater.
the little boy i babysit for. he's one and he loves the dishwasher when it's open. i try and keep it closed as much as i can, but the few times i open it, he's right there, trying to climb on it or grab some dishes to play with, and i always have to lead him away and distract him with something else. because the dishwasher isn't a place for one year olds. glass is dangerous. climbing is dangerous. once, as he was getting his foot up, i grabbed him and he slipped backwards and smacked his face on the edge of the dishwasher as he went down. he got a bloody nose. it hurt really, really badly. and yet, without fail, his passion for all things dishwasher has not ceased. he's still there, ready to climb, ready to grab, even after shattering a dirty wine glass on the floor. even after the big fall.
the thing is he's still learning. he's gotten hurt and broken things, but there is something inside of him that tells him those things won't happen every time. the dishwasher is there and it's beckoning him to come and play. nothing gets in the way, not pain or being scared by broken glass. not mothers or babysitters who sternly say no. because he just doesn't get it yet.
he doesn't yet have the mental capacity to understand nuts and bolts and screws, how standing on the dishwasher door could break those things. he doesn't understand delicate glass and that it breaks if you drop it. he certainly has no grasp on gravity or the fact that climbing with wobbly legs makes him more susceptible to its ways. he will someday. but until then, he'll follow his desire to be a part of the dishwasher.
we never stop learning. just because development happens so rapidly for children doesn't mean it stops once we reach adulthood. there are things we go back to over and over again, after they scare us, cause us pain, after we're told by wiser ones repeatedly to stop - because we just don't get it yet. we don't get that it's not good for us. and we take the mystery that is the dishwasher, we let those what if questions brew in our minds, and finally we're convinced that danger is worth the risk.
until we fall again.
i've been learning a lot about trust. what it means to trust god. it means that i stop getting into things i'm not supposed to. it means i allow myself to be led away. it means i don't just go ahead and do something and hope he'll pick up the broken pieces when it's over. when god says no, he's saying no for a reason. he's saying no because whatever it is i'm trying to do must be dangerous. i may not be able to see how, but the dangers are there, waiting for me. he's saying no because he can't stand to see me hurting. because he's teaching me about being cautious. because there are better things for me to do with my time than play on dishwashers.
oh, lead me.
they're hard to understand for someone with such a little mind. hard to grasp. mostly unreachable. like trying to see underwater.
the little boy i babysit for. he's one and he loves the dishwasher when it's open. i try and keep it closed as much as i can, but the few times i open it, he's right there, trying to climb on it or grab some dishes to play with, and i always have to lead him away and distract him with something else. because the dishwasher isn't a place for one year olds. glass is dangerous. climbing is dangerous. once, as he was getting his foot up, i grabbed him and he slipped backwards and smacked his face on the edge of the dishwasher as he went down. he got a bloody nose. it hurt really, really badly. and yet, without fail, his passion for all things dishwasher has not ceased. he's still there, ready to climb, ready to grab, even after shattering a dirty wine glass on the floor. even after the big fall.
the thing is he's still learning. he's gotten hurt and broken things, but there is something inside of him that tells him those things won't happen every time. the dishwasher is there and it's beckoning him to come and play. nothing gets in the way, not pain or being scared by broken glass. not mothers or babysitters who sternly say no. because he just doesn't get it yet.
he doesn't yet have the mental capacity to understand nuts and bolts and screws, how standing on the dishwasher door could break those things. he doesn't understand delicate glass and that it breaks if you drop it. he certainly has no grasp on gravity or the fact that climbing with wobbly legs makes him more susceptible to its ways. he will someday. but until then, he'll follow his desire to be a part of the dishwasher.
we never stop learning. just because development happens so rapidly for children doesn't mean it stops once we reach adulthood. there are things we go back to over and over again, after they scare us, cause us pain, after we're told by wiser ones repeatedly to stop - because we just don't get it yet. we don't get that it's not good for us. and we take the mystery that is the dishwasher, we let those what if questions brew in our minds, and finally we're convinced that danger is worth the risk.
until we fall again.
i've been learning a lot about trust. what it means to trust god. it means that i stop getting into things i'm not supposed to. it means i allow myself to be led away. it means i don't just go ahead and do something and hope he'll pick up the broken pieces when it's over. when god says no, he's saying no for a reason. he's saying no because whatever it is i'm trying to do must be dangerous. i may not be able to see how, but the dangers are there, waiting for me. he's saying no because he can't stand to see me hurting. because he's teaching me about being cautious. because there are better things for me to do with my time than play on dishwashers.
oh, lead me.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Monday, April 20, 2009
Friday, April 17, 2009
okay. i am in love with this stuff christians like blog. clearly to the point of piracy. seriously though. i read the first part of this and i was like, oh wow. thats a super powerful statement. then i read the rest of it. and i was like, holy cow. this is so so amazing.
An act of love is amplified exponentially when it is given in response to an act of hate.
Have you ever thought about that? Have you ever thought that the greatest time to send the loudest message of love is when someone has given you a message of hate?
It's kind of counterintuitive, but it's true. When someone hates you, when someone hurts you, when someone gossips about you or steals from you, they open up this deep chasm between the two of you. They dig a canyon's worth of emotional distance, a gorge of separation that feels impossible to span.
Logic would tell you to step back from the edge of that gorge.
Rational thinking would tell you to move away from someone that is actively digging such a deep, painful expanse between where you stand and where they stand.
Reason would tell you that it's probably impossible to ever cross that distance. That years and years must pass before you can even stand on the edge and stare off into the distance at someone far away from you.
But love isn't bound by logic and ration and reason.
Love doesn't play fair and neither does God.
He calls us to love our enemies. He calls us to love the people that are far away from us. He calls us to love the difficult and the sick and the jerks. (I'm not sure if the word "jerk" is in the Bible, but I'm trusting that the Message version has it at least once.)
And the weird thing, is that I think He calls us to do that is precisely because it's the loudest way to show His love.
When you bridge a gap with love, when you step across a chasm that might have existed for decades in your family, you create a bridge that can be seen for miles and miles, generations and generations. Step out and love a close friend that's bruised your feelings and you've created an overpass on a small creek. Jump out and love an enemy that's deliberately and destructively tried to hurt everything you stand for, do you know what you do when you love that person? You create a connection that will put the Golden Gate Bridge to shame.
oh lord. yes. even if someone does something unthinkable. even if someone hurts you, your child, your friend, your family in ways that could ruin their lives. even if someone lies, steals, takes innocence, murders. even when love is the hardest thing to give. it's the only thing we're called to give relentlessly.
if that means i'm living in a fantasy world, i'm living there with christ. and that's fine with me.
An act of love is amplified exponentially when it is given in response to an act of hate.
Have you ever thought about that? Have you ever thought that the greatest time to send the loudest message of love is when someone has given you a message of hate?
It's kind of counterintuitive, but it's true. When someone hates you, when someone hurts you, when someone gossips about you or steals from you, they open up this deep chasm between the two of you. They dig a canyon's worth of emotional distance, a gorge of separation that feels impossible to span.
Logic would tell you to step back from the edge of that gorge.
Rational thinking would tell you to move away from someone that is actively digging such a deep, painful expanse between where you stand and where they stand.
Reason would tell you that it's probably impossible to ever cross that distance. That years and years must pass before you can even stand on the edge and stare off into the distance at someone far away from you.
But love isn't bound by logic and ration and reason.
Love doesn't play fair and neither does God.
He calls us to love our enemies. He calls us to love the people that are far away from us. He calls us to love the difficult and the sick and the jerks. (I'm not sure if the word "jerk" is in the Bible, but I'm trusting that the Message version has it at least once.)
And the weird thing, is that I think He calls us to do that is precisely because it's the loudest way to show His love.
When you bridge a gap with love, when you step across a chasm that might have existed for decades in your family, you create a bridge that can be seen for miles and miles, generations and generations. Step out and love a close friend that's bruised your feelings and you've created an overpass on a small creek. Jump out and love an enemy that's deliberately and destructively tried to hurt everything you stand for, do you know what you do when you love that person? You create a connection that will put the Golden Gate Bridge to shame.
oh lord. yes. even if someone does something unthinkable. even if someone hurts you, your child, your friend, your family in ways that could ruin their lives. even if someone lies, steals, takes innocence, murders. even when love is the hardest thing to give. it's the only thing we're called to give relentlessly.
if that means i'm living in a fantasy world, i'm living there with christ. and that's fine with me.
so i had a weird dream last night.
crazy weird.
i was at the euclid creek reservation, although it wasn't actually that, it was some other place with a ravine-type and water. there were about fifty elephants just hanging out in the water, and tons of people super stoked about it. some woman said something to me about how they were migrating and just stopped here because of global warming, they got confused. well. elephants dont migrate.
somewhere along the way they turned into polar bears. the water turned cold and there was ice chunks in it. people were swimming/playing with them. i was wondering, 1. who would seriously be dumb enough to play with a polar bear; and 2. why weren't animal rights all over this?
anyway, i called someone who i knew loved sweet stuff and he came down, then i offered to go to his house to get his wetsuit for him so he could play with the polar bears. i watched as some guy in his wetsuit on a boogie board swam by. as i left, i went to go get my mom's car, which was parked in the st. helen's gym, where people were cleaning up from easter lunch. then i woke up.
i really really don't understand my mind sometimes.
in other news:
job applying,
quiet week,
soaking up the sun,
weekend concert,
thinking about the new things.
crazy weird.
i was at the euclid creek reservation, although it wasn't actually that, it was some other place with a ravine-type and water. there were about fifty elephants just hanging out in the water, and tons of people super stoked about it. some woman said something to me about how they were migrating and just stopped here because of global warming, they got confused. well. elephants dont migrate.
somewhere along the way they turned into polar bears. the water turned cold and there was ice chunks in it. people were swimming/playing with them. i was wondering, 1. who would seriously be dumb enough to play with a polar bear; and 2. why weren't animal rights all over this?
anyway, i called someone who i knew loved sweet stuff and he came down, then i offered to go to his house to get his wetsuit for him so he could play with the polar bears. i watched as some guy in his wetsuit on a boogie board swam by. as i left, i went to go get my mom's car, which was parked in the st. helen's gym, where people were cleaning up from easter lunch. then i woke up.
i really really don't understand my mind sometimes.
in other news:
job applying,
quiet week,
soaking up the sun,
weekend concert,
thinking about the new things.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
so i just giggled really hard when shane claiborne compared the part in the bible where it talks about demons trembling at the name of jesus to the part in lion king when the hyenas are talking about mufasa and are like:
mufasa.
ooooo! say it again.
mufasa.
OHHH! again.
mufasa.
OOOOOH!
mufasa mufasa mufasa!
because that's so awesome.
and so true.
if demons are like that at the name of jesus, i should be trembling too.
all the more.
today i'm thankful for:
really good conversations
free drinks at starbucks
sushi (yummmmm!)
more really good conversations
forever friends
board games
the future.
mufasa.
ooooo! say it again.
mufasa.
OHHH! again.
mufasa.
OOOOOH!
mufasa mufasa mufasa!
because that's so awesome.
and so true.
if demons are like that at the name of jesus, i should be trembling too.
all the more.
today i'm thankful for:
really good conversations
free drinks at starbucks
sushi (yummmmm!)
more really good conversations
forever friends
board games
the future.
Monday, April 13, 2009
easter things
so my family has an easter tradition.
dyeing eggs. it's pretty great.
okay. i guess that isn't so uncommon of an easter tradition.
but about ten years ago (i'm just guessing; i know it started back when i was living in chicago) my dad hit a stroke of genius and started another dyeing tradition.
i give you exhibit A:
and exhibit B:
there you have it.
so i realize this easter tradition may be a little bit, oh, i don't know. hillbilly?
but it is a tradition that i embrace and stand behind one-hundred and ten percent.
because it's just so, so, so awesome.
it's obviously already sort of lame because we have chihuahuas (seriously. who has those annoying dogs.) and they are older than dirt and have a lot of ailments and defects and what have you, but there is something about those colored tails that makes my inner eight year old leap for joy, and also laugh hysterically.
oh family quirks.
also, guess which dog i like and which one repulses me to no end.
here's a clue:
really though. she's such a brat. i don't like those.
but anyway. these are the things that i find make life so worthwhile.
dyeing eggs. it's pretty great.
okay. i guess that isn't so uncommon of an easter tradition.
but about ten years ago (i'm just guessing; i know it started back when i was living in chicago) my dad hit a stroke of genius and started another dyeing tradition.
i give you exhibit A:
and exhibit B:
there you have it.so i realize this easter tradition may be a little bit, oh, i don't know. hillbilly?
but it is a tradition that i embrace and stand behind one-hundred and ten percent.
because it's just so, so, so awesome.
it's obviously already sort of lame because we have chihuahuas (seriously. who has those annoying dogs.) and they are older than dirt and have a lot of ailments and defects and what have you, but there is something about those colored tails that makes my inner eight year old leap for joy, and also laugh hysterically.
oh family quirks.
also, guess which dog i like and which one repulses me to no end.
here's a clue:
really though. she's such a brat. i don't like those.but anyway. these are the things that i find make life so worthwhile.
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
today was a lovely day for friends.
and crown moulding.
my day involved both.
and a potential job opportunity. say what? yes, it's true. i think maybe i've found something to apply for that i am actually excited about. thrilled even! it involves little teeny babies, so...
i also started reading velvet elvis again.
he is a genius. (you know. god.)
i'm excited for easter.
for easter cupcakes.
for warm weather (someday...)
for baseball season (although really? really indians? opening day on good friday, really?) (that's what "really with seth" from snl would say.)
for bike riding.
for changes.
for grace.
though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow.
and crown moulding.
my day involved both.
and a potential job opportunity. say what? yes, it's true. i think maybe i've found something to apply for that i am actually excited about. thrilled even! it involves little teeny babies, so...
i also started reading velvet elvis again.
he is a genius. (you know. god.)
i'm excited for easter.
for easter cupcakes.
for warm weather (someday...)
for baseball season (although really? really indians? opening day on good friday, really?) (that's what "really with seth" from snl would say.)
for bike riding.
for changes.
for grace.
though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow.
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Thursday, April 2, 2009
who told you that you were naked?
we live in a world with a multitude of hurt.
like mr. roach said last night, "i think if we went back and told george washington everything that was going on in our country today, he would say, 'are you shitting me?'"
seriously though. things are so broken and sometimes i think i can't help but get overwhelmed by all of that and wonder what the heck we're supposed to do. i can hardly get myself together enough, let alone the endless aches and pains of this day and age. the weight of the world.
i found this in a post today from the stuff christians like blog, and it so resonated with me. our own inadequacies feel paralyzing at times. it's been easy to fall into the belief that my issues were far worse than anyone elses, that there was something seriously, abnormally wrong with me. even after the ever-faithful god has told me that nothing is wrong with me, i fall back into that unbelief. but it's not the way we were meant to live.
"Who told you that you were naked?"
There is hurt in God's voice as He asks this question, but there is also a deep sadness, the sense of a father holding a daughter that has for the first time ever, wrapped herself in shame.
Who told you that you were not enough?
Who told you that I didn't love you?
Who told you that there was something outside of me you needed?
Who told you that you were ugly?
Who told you that your dream was foolish?
Who told you that you would never have a child?
Who told you that you would never be a father?
Who told you that you weren't a good mother?
Who told you that without a job you aren't worth anything?
Who told you that you'll never know love again?
Who told you that this was all there is?
Who told you that you were naked?
I don't know when you discovered shame. I don’t know when you discovered that there were
people that might think you are silly or dumb or not a good writer or a husband or a friend. I don't know what lies you've been told by other people or maybe even by yourself.
But in response to what you are hearing from everyone else, God is still asking the question, "Who told you that you were naked?"
And He's still asking us that question because we are not.
In Christ we are not worthless.
In Christ we are not hopeless.
In Christ we are not dumb or ugly or forgotten.
In Christ we are not naked.
Isaiah 61:10 it says:
For he has clothed me with garments of salvation and arrayed me in a robe of righteousness."
morning by morning, new mercies i see.
like mr. roach said last night, "i think if we went back and told george washington everything that was going on in our country today, he would say, 'are you shitting me?'"
seriously though. things are so broken and sometimes i think i can't help but get overwhelmed by all of that and wonder what the heck we're supposed to do. i can hardly get myself together enough, let alone the endless aches and pains of this day and age. the weight of the world.
i found this in a post today from the stuff christians like blog, and it so resonated with me. our own inadequacies feel paralyzing at times. it's been easy to fall into the belief that my issues were far worse than anyone elses, that there was something seriously, abnormally wrong with me. even after the ever-faithful god has told me that nothing is wrong with me, i fall back into that unbelief. but it's not the way we were meant to live.
"Who told you that you were naked?"
There is hurt in God's voice as He asks this question, but there is also a deep sadness, the sense of a father holding a daughter that has for the first time ever, wrapped herself in shame.
Who told you that you were not enough?
Who told you that I didn't love you?
Who told you that there was something outside of me you needed?
Who told you that you were ugly?
Who told you that your dream was foolish?
Who told you that you would never have a child?
Who told you that you would never be a father?
Who told you that you weren't a good mother?
Who told you that without a job you aren't worth anything?
Who told you that you'll never know love again?
Who told you that this was all there is?
Who told you that you were naked?
I don't know when you discovered shame. I don’t know when you discovered that there were
people that might think you are silly or dumb or not a good writer or a husband or a friend. I don't know what lies you've been told by other people or maybe even by yourself.
But in response to what you are hearing from everyone else, God is still asking the question, "Who told you that you were naked?"
And He's still asking us that question because we are not.
In Christ we are not worthless.
In Christ we are not hopeless.
In Christ we are not dumb or ugly or forgotten.
In Christ we are not naked.
Isaiah 61:10 it says:
For he has clothed me with garments of salvation and arrayed me in a robe of righteousness."
morning by morning, new mercies i see.
so i went to this speaking thing tonight and heard some really great words, but now my mind's a bit on overload. a lot on overload.
i need to sort through all of the ways that it totally blew my mind.
also, these song lyrics are really awesome.
alli.
i need to sort through all of the ways that it totally blew my mind.
also, these song lyrics are really awesome.
All the way down, all the way down to where I fell
I stare at the ground, blood that I have spilled
But just to feed me you bend all the way down
All the way down to where I fell
Who is this God that loves me still?
This love that keeps me safe when I run
Safe when I’m young and foolish
Out of the dark, out of the dark that hides my face
I’m coming apart when you say my name
With ties of love you lead me out of the dark
Out of the dark that hides my face
Who is this God that loves me still?
This love that heals me when I am bound
When I am found and humble
With love you lead me
You bend to feed me
Taught me to walk
It was you all along
Who is this God that loves me still?
This love that finds me when I am lost
Although it cost you everything
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
tuesdays.
i loved today.
tuesdays are usually the best because i don't have to work. and today was so nice outside that it made me glad.
i was driving in the sunshine and just became completely filled with this sense of peace and contentment. like i wouldn't want my life to be anywhere else but where it's at now.
i feel like for months, i just wished things were different somehow, i was carrying around all this baggage of everything that had happened from august to december, and i was fighting really hard to get parts of that life back.
i don't know what made me stop fighting. but someplace over the past weeks, the incessant fighting has ceased and i'm just cool with the way things are now. they're great things, actually.
and i made my peace with portland. maybe because i've talked a lot about what an amazing place it is, how many cool things it has going on there, and now it won't forever be stuck in my mind as this region that represents all things horrible. stuff went down and it wasn't great. but i don't regret anything that occured. the past four months have done more good to me than anything else ever could have, i'm convinced of it. i've spent countless years with this idea in my head of the person i was created to be, always just falling short of the things i wanted to accomplish and never being able to let go of negative things i wanted to change about myself. and i feel like portland gave me the reality i needed to confront those things face to face and deal with them. stop telling myself they'll change in time and just deal with them. work them out so that i can grow and mature. maybe it's too early to say if i'm really getting those things now. but i feel a heck of a lot closer than i ever have in my entire life. and that's a pretty big deal.
it reminds me of this part in rob bell's book velvet elvis when he's talking about this one sunday before he's about to go out and preach and he's freaking out because he doesn't even know if he wants to be a pastor anymore because of all the stress and pressure and everything else that's going on. he just feels like this huge failure. he gets the whole being redeemed and forgiven and saved and all of that, yet huge areas of his life don't reflect it. so because of that, he realizes how important it is to not put on this facade but rather work out your junk and get through it, because that's the only way to healing and that's what jesus is all about. so he says something to the effect of, 'all of a sudden its sunday and i'm sitting in this closet and i couldn't be more excited to be at church. because jesus is healing my soul.'
and i love that line.
jesus is healing my soul.
so that's exciting.
i also love tuesdays because of biggest loser, svu, and housewives of nyc with my bff. these are the shows that bring our frienship closer. shes's so fabulous.
tuesdays are usually the best because i don't have to work. and today was so nice outside that it made me glad.
i was driving in the sunshine and just became completely filled with this sense of peace and contentment. like i wouldn't want my life to be anywhere else but where it's at now.
i feel like for months, i just wished things were different somehow, i was carrying around all this baggage of everything that had happened from august to december, and i was fighting really hard to get parts of that life back.
i don't know what made me stop fighting. but someplace over the past weeks, the incessant fighting has ceased and i'm just cool with the way things are now. they're great things, actually.
and i made my peace with portland. maybe because i've talked a lot about what an amazing place it is, how many cool things it has going on there, and now it won't forever be stuck in my mind as this region that represents all things horrible. stuff went down and it wasn't great. but i don't regret anything that occured. the past four months have done more good to me than anything else ever could have, i'm convinced of it. i've spent countless years with this idea in my head of the person i was created to be, always just falling short of the things i wanted to accomplish and never being able to let go of negative things i wanted to change about myself. and i feel like portland gave me the reality i needed to confront those things face to face and deal with them. stop telling myself they'll change in time and just deal with them. work them out so that i can grow and mature. maybe it's too early to say if i'm really getting those things now. but i feel a heck of a lot closer than i ever have in my entire life. and that's a pretty big deal.
it reminds me of this part in rob bell's book velvet elvis when he's talking about this one sunday before he's about to go out and preach and he's freaking out because he doesn't even know if he wants to be a pastor anymore because of all the stress and pressure and everything else that's going on. he just feels like this huge failure. he gets the whole being redeemed and forgiven and saved and all of that, yet huge areas of his life don't reflect it. so because of that, he realizes how important it is to not put on this facade but rather work out your junk and get through it, because that's the only way to healing and that's what jesus is all about. so he says something to the effect of, 'all of a sudden its sunday and i'm sitting in this closet and i couldn't be more excited to be at church. because jesus is healing my soul.'
and i love that line.
jesus is healing my soul.
so that's exciting.
i also love tuesdays because of biggest loser, svu, and housewives of nyc with my bff. these are the shows that bring our frienship closer. shes's so fabulous.
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