Ladies

I was sitting on the porch yesterday (in my garden ;-) when my sweet friend Kyle walked up with these...

Tulips.  My forever favorite.  No particular reason, just an "I celebrate you today, welcome to Spring."

And then tonight Tommy, Linda, Josh and I drove across town to say hi to the Bailey's and try a new chocolate almond butter tart at their store.  As we were sitting around chatting, Christine presented Linda and I each with one of these:

She hand-painted them herself of course, a little reminder of healing, a process we're each in... all the time... in some way or another.  And we choose to celebrate that, too, in our own lives and each others.  (I think mine will find it's way to my wee garden sometime very soon ;-)

Such authentically beautiful friends.  I'm so grateful for the individual women in my life, all of them, each of them.  I'm so thankful to have ladies in my everyday who know and celebrate me for all the right and meaningful reasons, and for no reason at all.  Just because.  I'm not sure there's a more wonderful feeling on the planet than being celebrate... just for being you.

How do you celebrate the women in your life?  Or how do they celebrate and encourage you?

Basics

My dear friend Ivana pointed out, after reading the recent ‘Debate’ blog, how I was all fiery and passionate and then…Garden.  It came to this abrupt halt when the last statement ended and the very next post (really the preceding post) was this sunny little blurb about our wee garden ;-) 

Then she said something profound, “I think it works.  I think if flows.  Because when it comes to all things religion and Christianity we desperately need to get back to the basics, the simple things.  Like gardening.  Like growing our own food, watching it spring up from the earth.  So yeah, it caught me off guard because I was all fired up too, but I like it.  Back to basics.  It’s what’s important.”

Reason number #1042 I adore her.

A return to basics?  What do YOU think?

Debate

Provoked by all of the theological debate surrounding Rob Bell's new book, Love Wins, I wrote this lengthy blog post about all of my not-so-pretty thoughts regarding Christianity.  Reading it over, though, I realize it's probably not wise I share it with the world ;-)  It essentially reeks of my sentiments that 'Christianity sucks' and 'when will we get over ourselves'...you know...that kind of stuff ;-)  Not exactly exciting, affirming reading. So rather than post my venting in all it's disdainful glory, I thought I'd just share a few snippets.  Though I'm fully aware I still may upset or polarize a few readers, I firmly believe in being authentic.  So here ya go:

... if we did away with our self-centered, me-centric, every-program-imaginable-to-make-everyone-happy churches…we’d probably all be a lot better off.  How about we stop focusing on personal growth so much, and instead focus on the single mom down the street who’s barely getting by?  Instead of yet another Bible study, how about a neighborhood study to determine what the real needs of our community are?  How about, rather than debating who’s wrong and who’s right about heaven and hell, we spend an hour with the elderly man next door who's been living alone for two decades?  Rather than discussing movies and reality tv over dinner, let's discuss the sex-trafficking happening in our backyards, the misplaced refugees huddling together in tiny apartments across town, or the number of hurting children silently, hopelessly enduring exploitation in child pornography as we speak....

...How about, in general, we shut our mouths for once and actually DO something?...  

...Far as I’m concerned, you can have your debates and arguments and studies and programs.  Take your formulas and opinions and hierarchies of holiness, your uninspiring ‘art’ and cliché mementos.  And while you’re at it, your superior, judgmental attitude as well...I’ll have Jesus.  That’s really, truly all I need, and furthermore, it’s all I want.  I’ve feasted on everything else Christianity has to offer, and quite frankly, He’s the only thing that’s satisfied... 

So um, there ya have it, my thoughts on the debate...sort of.

Have you been following the Love Wins debate?  What are YOUR thoughts??

Intention

"If we could see the miracle of a single flower clearly, our whole life would change."  -Buddha

The art of Sabbath practice is intention and awareness.  It's perspective.  It's why red berries among a million other things speak to me in a real, undeniable way.

It's stopping to examine a single bloom along the sidewalk and marveling at the fact that the moment the seed went into the ground, God knew that at this precise moment in time you would stop to ponder it.  It's pausing to wonder will anyone else examine this exact bloom?  Did God in his intimate, intricate pursuit of me cause this very flower to sprout from the earth, for this explicit moment in time?

Of course He did.  

God always sees us.  Sabbath is the intentional stopping to see Him.

Find 5 minutes to stop today.  Open your eyes.  Open your ears.  Commune with Divinity, and your very soul will be refreshed.

Write

Write your own story.

I keep hearing the words roll around and around inside my head.  Write your own story.  Write your own story. Ever since I stumbled upon those mugs back in December, the words haven't left me.  Write your own story. The past few months as I've browsed thrift shops with Erin who has an adoration for old typewriters, we've stopped and caressed the keys of machine after machine.  She says she wants one that still works, so she can type and not make corrections, so her words will come out authentically.  No backspace, no auto-correct, no delete.  I love that about her.  Write your own story.  Something about her words speak to me, stir something in me on a deep, soul-level.  Write your own story.  In my mind I can hear the click, click, clicking of an old typewriter somewhere in a sun-filled, quiet back room...

A couple of weeks ago I get a call from my friend Debbie.  She says she's been reading my blog and has something for me, thinks I'll love it, wants it to go to someone who'll appreciate it.  She shows up with this:

Click... click... click... images of a quiet, sun-filled room...  that beautiful little writing desk my husband just gave me... click... click... click... a stirring in my soul...  a steaming cup of hot tea... click... click... write your own story.

In light of everything that's happened the past few days and weeks, the shifting and shaking and life-altering decisions that have been made, I think it's time.  I think it's finally time.

Write your own story.  I think I will...

PS--Debbie also brought me these adorable little beauties, vintage Kodak Brownies.  Oh-so-appropriate, don't ya think?  What better to go with an old typewriter that an couple of old cameras? Every story is better with pictures.

PPS--My apologies for the subtle crypticness of the blog lately.  I can't stand it when people are vague, so it's a struggle for me to be just that when I know how irritating it is, but what I can say this: just consider it a teaser of sorts--it will ALL make sense in the weeks to come... ;-)  

Are you writing your own story?  What does that look like for you?

Metaphor

(The past several days have been transformative.  Though I wish I could spell it all out, I simply can’t.  What I can do however is paint a metaphorical picture that clearly illustrates the nature, if not the specific details, of what’s occurred.  Without saying anything, I’m saying a lot, and encouraging you to hear me on a deeper, unspeakable level.  On a personal level suffice it to say we’ve had a vivid, necessary encounter with God that has literally changed us… mind, body, and spirit.)

“Paradigm shift.  A paradigm shift is happening in your life,” she looks at me calmly, knowingly, with a kind of confidence I can only describe as otherworldly.

I didn’t know what she meant.  In fact, I had no idea so I gave it little thought.  The words rolled around in my head, but not beyond.  The never reached my heart.

3 days later. 

Things begin to shift.  Like a quiet tremor rumbling deep within the earth as an earthquake brews beneath the surface.  I feel it, I close my eyes and sense it, but it still seems too distant to declare real.  I shake it off, keep going thru the motions of every day. 

4 days later.

The rumbling is nearer, louder, and growing.  I awake to it at dawn.  I sit up, swing my legs off the bed still sleepy-eyed, freeze, listen.  It’s real.  I feel a growing anticipation in my gut.  It’s coming.  I look at my husband, still sleeping.  I think of Aaron in the next room, also sleeping.  They feel it, too.  We don’t discuss it, but we glance at each other throughout the day, smile knowingly, raise our eyebrows silently as if to say, “Are you ready for this?” 

5 days later.

It arrives swiftly.  The earth beneath our feet begins to tremble.  We all lock eyes.  Josh doesn’t move, holds his ground, entirely calm.  Aaron begins to laugh, quietly at first, then louder, falling to his knees to steady himself.  I reach for the wall, my pulse racing faster and faster.  I close my eyes.  As the shaking intensifies panic starts to grip me.  Open your eyes.  Open your eyes.  Look at them.  I force my eyes open.  One, still calm, the other, still celebrating.  Deep breaths.  Everything is fine.  The panic and the trembling both begin to subside.  Keep your eyes open.  Don’t look away.

6 days later.

Quiet, but everything is different.  There’s a calm, a resolve I can’t quite put into words.  I keep looking around at everything that’s shifted.  Dishes, picture frames, furniture…  It crosses my mind to shift things back, out of compulsion to put things back the way they were, back to what I know, what’s familiar.  But then I stop, realizing I like this so much better.  This is richer, authentic, real.  This provokes me to live differently, more intentionally.  I don’t want to put things back the way they were.  I won’t allow myself to ignore that something’s different, drastically different.  And better.

7 days later.

Josh goes back to work.  Aaron leaves on a 7am flight.  I come home to a quiet house, a profound joy, and an almost tangible truth in the air.  Things will never be the same again.

And then suddenly I remember.  I hear her words again, spoken in love and confidence, “Paradigm shift.  A paradigm shift is happening in your life.”  But this time, the words don’t just roll around inside my head…they pierce and penetrate my heart. 

If we so desire, God will intersect our lives in such a way that we’ll never see this life through the same lens again, never struggle with the same issues, same burdens, never walk powerless.  If we so desire, He will do the miraculous in our lives.  If we tune our ears to hear, open our eyes to see, if we set our hearts to expect and understand and believe…He’ll show up.  Every.  Single.  Time.  He isn’t a God who’s capable of disappointing us.  It simply isn’t His character.  Ask, and you’ll receive.  Seek, and you’ll find.  Knock, and the door will be opened. 

It is estimated that there are 500,000 detectable earthquakes in the world each year, 100,000 of which can be felt.  (www.usgs.gov)  Those who are watching see them, those who are looking know when and where they’re happening, even when they can’t be physically felt. 

Whenever anything occurs or transpires in the natural, there’s a direct parallel in the supernatural.  We must tune our ears to hear.  Something is happening in the earth.  A shaking.  A shifting.  If you let it, it will change you. 

Do you feel it?  Do you sense it?  Can you feel the tremors?