Last Night

I was up until about 1:30 am last night organizing life and thoughts.  In fact, I polished off a whole poem, but it came out a little angry even though it's not about anyone in particular.  It makes me wonder whether I 1) had something I had to get off my chest, 2) was just following the theme of a piece I'd already started, or 3) need counseling to deal with whatever pent up non-positivity that seems to be lurking somewhere I haven't fully discovered yet.  I think I'm going to choose to believe #2.  Plus, when I go back and read it, it's kind of good...I think.  Maybe a little more divulgent than I would typically want to be if I were going to share it publicly, but a couple of friends keep telling me that you can tell which of my pieces really reveal something.

God's stretching me through my own writing, which I never thought was possible, but I'm starting to get the feeling that there's a reason for it.  Lately, the theme that keeps running through my head is "planting a seed."  The funny thing is, the only context I grew up hearing that phrase in was church evangelism.  And, in some odd way, maybe just sharing is evangelism.  Nevertheless, our neighbor, Elizabeth, says that when we speak publicly and with purpose, there is someone who needed to hear it.  My pieces are in no way preaching material, but maybe, just maybe someday I'll have an audience somewhere that needs to hear exactly what rolls off my tongue.  So, if you ever really connect with anything I recite, I don't need to hear all about it, but you need to know that those words were meant for you.

On a more entertaining note:  I dreamt Jess was getting married last night, and I had to move again.  Ahh!  Heaven help me if I have to pack all this stuff up again in the next two years.

Your Love Is Extravagant

My roommate is currently writing a song for her Prophets class where she ties together the motif of "I will be your God, and you will be my people" with the multiple perspectives of both God and the people of God in the book of Isaiah. So, last night, we were discussing how stretching it is to read, not only the constant search the people must go through to find their way back to God, but also the arduous task it must be for Yahweh to continually seek to bring the people back.

The more we chatted the more we drifted into the topic of reflecting the image of Abba, which always gets me a little teary and jittery at the same time--we'll blame it on Dad (my biological one). There are certain concepts within scripture that literally send chills down my spine, and for some reason the idea that the Creator is reflected in creation will always be one of them.

I can barely cross the threshold of what all this entails, but in the context of Isaiah I think it has to mean that the Lord of the Israelites was broken by the chasm between the Creator and the created even more than the people. From the very beginning of the text you can sense the pain in Yahweh's words as we read,
" 'Come now, let us reason together,' says the Lord. 'Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they are red as crimson, they shall be like wool' " (Isaiah 1:18).
It's as if the speaker is simply pleading with the people to see their own potential.

Here's where I get really excited--although the people continue to cry out to Yahweh in the midst of their sufferings, the suffering doesn't immediately subside. Nevertheless, the one who desires nothing more than to be Lord of their affections and their lives does cry out to them in return. Neither party's struggles are immediately alleviated, but they become partners in the hope of a future together. They are mutual prisoners of hope* (see Zechariah 9:12 and footnote).

Slight tangent--I attended a wedding this weekend for one of my dearest high school friends, Amber. She may be one of the sweetest, most vivacious personalities I have ever met, but her relationships with men have never seemed to be uplifting or edifying for her; in fact, they usually left her more broken than Humpty Dumpty.

Then she met Justin, and as we watched them take their vows on Saturday, vowing to love God first and each other second above all others, I thought, "Now there are some prisoners of hope."

So, as Jess and I sat around last night and talked about how the "poetic etymology of juxtaposing/paradoxical terminology within prophetic texts has the potential for significant ties to current eschatological worldviews" (Phew, don't ask; I barely know what that means), I remembered Amber and Justin taking communion for the first time as a married couple while a church member sang the most poignant and appropriate song I have ever heard in a Christian wedding ceremony. "Your love is extravagant. Your friendship, it is intimate."

And a voice in my head that I barely know as my own said, "How extravagantly intimate your love must be that you would want to be a prisoner of hope with me, Abba."



*Dr. T. Scott Daniels did a great sermon on Prisoners of Hope a couple of weeks back if you would like to hear it.

Thoughts Today

Why does the best bread cut the roof of your mouth?

Why does the best food look so pretty that you don't want to mess it up?

Why are the best chill spots the farthest from home?

Why are the best people the ones that you find by accident?

Why do the best clothing accessories always hide in the back of piles of dusty T-shirt bags in the church pit?

Jesus 4 Prez

There is an amazing design on Threadless.com right now that I want to encourage anyone who reads this to check out and score. The designer parodied the Obama OBEY design, and it's just plumb hilarious.



Please follow the link and score it well. If you don't like it, please respect my positive bias and don't say anything because I really want them to publish the design--it's fantastic and extremely creative.

I'M ALL IN!!!

We just finished moving all my crud into the new place I will be sharing with Jess, and so far it's magnificent. I get to have a roommate again, save on rent, and move more than 2 feet in any direction I please! Plus, we've both been praying and trying to figure out a way to make our living situations more amicable, and all the Tetris shapes just kind of fit perfectly.

In commemoration of the smoothest, most chill move I have ever experienced and all of the lovely friends that helped out, I would like to dedicate one of my favorite random songs to all those who are welcome to drop by any time:

"Come and knock on our door, we've been waiting for you.
Where the kisses are hers and hers and his, three's company too.
Come and dance on our floor, take a step that is new.
We've a lovable space that needs your face, three's company too.
You'll see that life is a frolic and laughter is calling for you
Down at our rendevous, three's company too!"

Revolutionary

My current occupation: ridding my life of excess clutter (yeah, I know that was redundant) and unnecessary items (and so was that).

What I’m realizing is that there is a lot of the stuff that I’ve held onto to keep from offending family, forgetting friends, or remembering how much money I’ve wasted on possessions. Moving in with Jess is forcing me to reevaluate what I really need, value, or have a use for. Those two George Foreman-type grills that Nano gave me on her Equip-My-Granddaughter’s-Kitchen-So-She-Will-Be-A-Good-Homemaker campaign of 2005 are now going to homes that will actually open them, as will the smoothie maker, the extra egg-slicer, and the metal spoon rest. I am getting rid of an 18” anorexic ballerina figurine my other Grandma mail-ordered as a centerpiece for my coffee table, all of the guitar supplies that I will never use since the instrument itself is gone, and every last bobby pin I find in the apartment that’s not in the bathroom.

Are you ready for the best part? I am throwing out all of the dating advice books I’ve held onto because they were gifts. I don’t care how many of my friends swore by it or how long it was at the top of some Christianity Today Bestseller List.

I am 24 years old and this is my public announcement: People, now is not the time to be worried about my biological clock. It is too soon for you to start setting me up on blind dates with childhood friends or continually remind me that “love is worth the wait.” Most importantly, I have no intention of reading or re-reading any of the following that have been on my shelf out of guilt for far too long now:

When God Writes Your Love Story: The Ultimate Approach to Guy/Girl Relationships

Boy Meets Girl: Say Hello to Courtship

Boundaries in Dating: Making Dating Work

5 Paths to the Love of Your Life: Defining Your Dating Style

How to Get a Date Worth Keeping: Be Dating in Six Months or Your Money Back

I Kissed Dating Goodbye

and finally…

If I am waiting on God, then What am I Doing in a Christian Chat room: Confessions of a Do-It-Yourself Single

Classy, I know. The point is that they’re not me, and now they don’t belong to me!

Welcome to the Conquering the “I Can’ts” Revolution. Today’s mantra will be “I CAN rid myself of things that other people use to define me.”

The Latest

This makes me miss Fred Caban, and I have absolutely no explanation as to why, other than maybe his naked ocean towel shenanigans.

In other news, although this is not a new discovery in the least, my impeccable ability to turn common conversation into something dirty while moving about my day completely unawares is apparently increasing. Despite my most valiant efforts to think before speaking, I managed to quote Much Ado About Nothing yesterday and evoke head-turns from 4 or 5 people. Fantastic! Now I just need to figure out how to effect the same response without the perverse connotations that seem to emanate from my mouth completely unawares.


Still more exciting, I think a few of us are going to start a Newsies fan club. After much deliberation and a few enthusiastic dance-a-long moments during the High School Musical parade at California Adventure, it is official. Disney is not making the same effort toward meaningful and educational plots for childhood entertainment that we had when I was a kid. My proposed solution: force-feed everybody Newsies and The Sound of Music! If we all knew and daily recited the lyrics to Edelweiss, I firmly believe the world would be a more peaceful, compassionate, loving, and empathetic environment. Then again, that may be way too much faith to put in a flower.