This morning in Little Rock we got a dose of wintry mix. If someone passed a note that said, "Do you like Wintry Mix? Check yes or no," I would check no with a fat black crayon.
Until this morning.
I was on my way to a meeting when--just to give my eyeballs a break from taillight staring--I looked up. And saw the trees. I love trees in general, and naked trees in winter are so stark they take my breath away.
These were great big things, older than me, with a broad span of thin black fingers stretched up toward the sky and out toward each other. And a thin layer of bright white snow draped each limb, bough, and twig. What had already been a fine network of life against a whitewashed sky became absolutely delicate. The edgy contrast of black and white cleaving to each other as they twine through the sky with apparent weightlessness captivated me. So much so that it would have very nearly been worth a fender-bender if I could keep my gaze upturned.
Very Nearly.
Sigh.
So, Wintry Mix, I'm still not voting you for prom queen, but even the least popular form of precipitation has it's loveliness. While I don't think "snow on the naked branches" has a shot at overtaking "silver lining around every cloud" as far as common expressions go, it was, for me a good reminder to seek the bright amidst the gray.
Monday, February 7, 2011
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Rockin'
I was listening to the Christian station today while I was driving and this song came on. I don't know who sings it, but the lead, er, screamer, was belting out unintelligible lyrics in that strained-voice sound that kind of makes my throat hurt to listen to.
I mean, he was doing a grade-A job of it, that's just not my style. I don't like screaming.
And right off the bat, my mind went to the Jesus as the Prince of Peace. Should a Christian have that much to yell about?
But David did. Kind David did all kinds of stuff that blew through the limits of the traditional. The story of the return of the Ark of the Covenant in 2 Sam. 6 comes to mind. The king did a happy dance through the middle of town in his "ephod" (which I think was ancient Jewish skivvies), and then passed out raisins.
And God loved it.
He called this dude a man after God's own heart.
So, then I got the mental image of a rock concert in Heaven. Some guy who has a passion for yell-singing on stage lettin' er rip. And Jesus? He's not sitting in the back with a patronizing grin, He's not even backstage doing the head bob. No, He's crowd surfing. Diving into the midst of His people, laughing, hollering, revelling.
Man, I can't wait to get there.
Thanks, God, that you are creative enough to inspire such a rich variety of praise. You are glorified through art, nature, work, sacrifice, pain, laughter. You are glorified in the richest harmonies, the country hymn, and yes, even the ear-splitting heavy metal praise song. I love how much you love. How broad and joyful you are. I just love getting to know you.
All my heart.
I mean, he was doing a grade-A job of it, that's just not my style. I don't like screaming.
And right off the bat, my mind went to the Jesus as the Prince of Peace. Should a Christian have that much to yell about?
But David did. Kind David did all kinds of stuff that blew through the limits of the traditional. The story of the return of the Ark of the Covenant in 2 Sam. 6 comes to mind. The king did a happy dance through the middle of town in his "ephod" (which I think was ancient Jewish skivvies), and then passed out raisins.
And God loved it.
He called this dude a man after God's own heart.
So, then I got the mental image of a rock concert in Heaven. Some guy who has a passion for yell-singing on stage lettin' er rip. And Jesus? He's not sitting in the back with a patronizing grin, He's not even backstage doing the head bob. No, He's crowd surfing. Diving into the midst of His people, laughing, hollering, revelling.
Man, I can't wait to get there.
Thanks, God, that you are creative enough to inspire such a rich variety of praise. You are glorified through art, nature, work, sacrifice, pain, laughter. You are glorified in the richest harmonies, the country hymn, and yes, even the ear-splitting heavy metal praise song. I love how much you love. How broad and joyful you are. I just love getting to know you.
All my heart.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Just one more chapter
I did an unwise thing.
I stayed up until 4 last night to read. I would say I regret it, but Jenny B. Jones's new book, Save the Date, was so good that I can't. It was a fabulous read.
Of course, that means today I'm operating on about 2.5 hours of sleep.
Not even close to ideal.
So, I'm thankful that God is my strength and in His grace has spared me the severe crankiness and sluggish mental functions that my behavior deserves.
And that I work from home. So if at some point this afternoon I slump over my laptop and get my face drool-glued to my notes, I won't make a spectacle of myself.
I stayed up until 4 last night to read. I would say I regret it, but Jenny B. Jones's new book, Save the Date, was so good that I can't. It was a fabulous read.
Of course, that means today I'm operating on about 2.5 hours of sleep.
Not even close to ideal.
So, I'm thankful that God is my strength and in His grace has spared me the severe crankiness and sluggish mental functions that my behavior deserves.
And that I work from home. So if at some point this afternoon I slump over my laptop and get my face drool-glued to my notes, I won't make a spectacle of myself.
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Flavor attack!
Shout out to everyone who likes to grocery shop.
What-what!
Of all the taking-care-of-business chores on my list, stocking the kitchen is my favorite. And of all the places I go do to do this, I always consider it a treat to go to Fresh Market.
The place is set up like a Disney version of a French marketplace, complete with classical music, overpriced chocolate, and lots of bulk items.
Among these are cashews. And if that weren't good enough, wasabi cashews. Whoever came up with that combo, bravo. You took one of the best nuts and kicked it up a level.
Wasabi is the kung fu warrior of spiciness. It looks all laid back, that cheerful green, as innocuous as a blade of grass. And for about half a second it tastes pretty innocent.
Then, BAM.
With a tonal shrieks it pounces on your tastebuds and doesn't stop hacking until it's shimmied clear up your nasal passages.
It's even fun to say.
Wasabi.
Makes ya smile, huh?
I think the Japanese get credit for the thrilling spice. So, arigato. Not just for introducing this fierce flavor to the world, but also for giving it such a splendid name.
What-what!
Of all the taking-care-of-business chores on my list, stocking the kitchen is my favorite. And of all the places I go do to do this, I always consider it a treat to go to Fresh Market.
The place is set up like a Disney version of a French marketplace, complete with classical music, overpriced chocolate, and lots of bulk items.
Among these are cashews. And if that weren't good enough, wasabi cashews. Whoever came up with that combo, bravo. You took one of the best nuts and kicked it up a level.
Wasabi is the kung fu warrior of spiciness. It looks all laid back, that cheerful green, as innocuous as a blade of grass. And for about half a second it tastes pretty innocent.
Then, BAM.
With a tonal shrieks it pounces on your tastebuds and doesn't stop hacking until it's shimmied clear up your nasal passages.
It's even fun to say.
Wasabi.
Makes ya smile, huh?
I think the Japanese get credit for the thrilling spice. So, arigato. Not just for introducing this fierce flavor to the world, but also for giving it such a splendid name.
Monday, January 31, 2011
Pssst, your personality is showing.
I took a personality test last week and was kind of afraid that after I answered question 256, the computer would stall out and say, "Error. Invalid Combination."
No matter who we are--no matter how generic we may seem from the outside, no heed to how we wedge ourselves into the common mold , no credence to the ease with which we slip into uniformity--there is a piece of all of us that seems untouched. Even if it's only a sliver, there is some aspect of each life that diverges from those pressed around it.
It's uncomfortable. Outstanding in it's uniqueness, to the point where it feels as if everyone identifies us as only that slice of ourselves. And worse yet, we draw the conclusion that we're alone in our variety and if they only knew, they'd change their minds about us. Reject us.
There are two things about this odd phenomenon that have come to the forefront of my musings as of late.
First, it is not a flaw. It is a facet. The very rarity of that angle of each of us makes it valuable. Because it means we--you, I--we are uniquely qualified for something. While we may be subdivided into personality components, we each get a different sized dollop of those components. And that's not on accident. I heard someone in the church recently say that God's will for us is to glorify Him.
No argument here. But I think it goes a step farther than that. I think God forms us each with his artist's fingers, adding streaks of crimson, sunshine, cobalt, in the exact quantities needed to reflect Himself in the exact location that He places us. And not just "My Family," but in the relationships and situations and moments. He is way too brilliant to just whip out a fingerpainting and jam it on the fridge. He specializes.
The second thing is this. Those slivers of individuality in each of us, they are not repellent. They are often the most mesmerizing piece of us. When they catch the light people stop to look. And not like a car wreck, more like a prism. I have been blessed with some dear friends and it is not the fact that we like The Loft or Needtobreathe that has brought us past the acquaintance phase so quickly. No, these dear hearts have radiant individuality that runs like a ribbon of silver through who they are. They haven't tried to hide it or excuse it, they let it reflect their Lord. And it draws people to them. To Him.
The second aspect of this is how isolating it can feel. By definition, the uniqueness means no one else feels or experiences this life exactly as we do. By and large, we get the same broad sweeps. We all have fear, hope, longing, joy. But not necessarily for the same reasons or to the same degrees. Definitely not at the same time. So there are those moments where everyone else may as well be on the sun for how understood we feel.
Here's the thing though. At risk of sounding like a scratched CD, God made us that way. Which means....
He gets it. All of it. He knows what this moment feels like to me. With me.
Simple, yes. But when I feel like I'm watching the world from the other side of an impassible membrane, it is this huge comfort.
Thank you, Lord, that you are an artist. Thank you that you shimmer through your people. Even those who don't know it. Thank you for hand-crafting each one into an original and stunning silhouette. Please give us the grace to see your work for it's beauty and when we're in those moments that are untouchable by this world, that you are right there in it with us.
All my love.
It didn't, phew, but the sheer relief at having this odd personality I possess lumped neatly into various boxes was enlightening. It was like somebody outside of me was saying, "No, you're not defective. The ways you respond? That happens for a reason."
No matter who we are--no matter how generic we may seem from the outside, no heed to how we wedge ourselves into the common mold , no credence to the ease with which we slip into uniformity--there is a piece of all of us that seems untouched. Even if it's only a sliver, there is some aspect of each life that diverges from those pressed around it.
It's uncomfortable. Outstanding in it's uniqueness, to the point where it feels as if everyone identifies us as only that slice of ourselves. And worse yet, we draw the conclusion that we're alone in our variety and if they only knew, they'd change their minds about us. Reject us.
There are two things about this odd phenomenon that have come to the forefront of my musings as of late.
First, it is not a flaw. It is a facet. The very rarity of that angle of each of us makes it valuable. Because it means we--you, I--we are uniquely qualified for something. While we may be subdivided into personality components, we each get a different sized dollop of those components. And that's not on accident. I heard someone in the church recently say that God's will for us is to glorify Him.
No argument here. But I think it goes a step farther than that. I think God forms us each with his artist's fingers, adding streaks of crimson, sunshine, cobalt, in the exact quantities needed to reflect Himself in the exact location that He places us. And not just "My Family," but in the relationships and situations and moments. He is way too brilliant to just whip out a fingerpainting and jam it on the fridge. He specializes.
The second thing is this. Those slivers of individuality in each of us, they are not repellent. They are often the most mesmerizing piece of us. When they catch the light people stop to look. And not like a car wreck, more like a prism. I have been blessed with some dear friends and it is not the fact that we like The Loft or Needtobreathe that has brought us past the acquaintance phase so quickly. No, these dear hearts have radiant individuality that runs like a ribbon of silver through who they are. They haven't tried to hide it or excuse it, they let it reflect their Lord. And it draws people to them. To Him.
The second aspect of this is how isolating it can feel. By definition, the uniqueness means no one else feels or experiences this life exactly as we do. By and large, we get the same broad sweeps. We all have fear, hope, longing, joy. But not necessarily for the same reasons or to the same degrees. Definitely not at the same time. So there are those moments where everyone else may as well be on the sun for how understood we feel.
Here's the thing though. At risk of sounding like a scratched CD, God made us that way. Which means....
He gets it. All of it. He knows what this moment feels like to me. With me.
Simple, yes. But when I feel like I'm watching the world from the other side of an impassible membrane, it is this huge comfort.
Thank you, Lord, that you are an artist. Thank you that you shimmer through your people. Even those who don't know it. Thank you for hand-crafting each one into an original and stunning silhouette. Please give us the grace to see your work for it's beauty and when we're in those moments that are untouchable by this world, that you are right there in it with us.
All my love.
Friday, January 28, 2011
Chores
I would love to be one of those orderly people who, when first back from a long trip, unpacks and puts all things in their places, then empties the dishwasher, etc.
But I'm not.
So, I'm grateful that my apartment is about the size of a bread box. When I finally buckle down and clean, it won't take that long.
But I'm not.
So, I'm grateful that my apartment is about the size of a bread box. When I finally buckle down and clean, it won't take that long.
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Hats off to God
God and I did something big together recently. Well, big for me. I will not say what because its fun having a secret with the Almighty and also because I don't want to risk my heavenly reward...just being honest.
But, it was seriously cool. I feel like we bonded over the experience.
And today, we celebrated.
I supplied a frozen yogurt that was way too big and God brought the gifts.
Namely, he supplied killer weather. Since I was outside for a good portion of the afternoon, the fifty degrees he set up and cerulean sky were a total blessing. He also supplied extra free time to spend on pursuits he's given me. And if that weren't enough, he sent me a sweet lady with words of encouragement that were a fire to my spirit.
Here's the thing about living for God. When I actually do it, it's more addictive than cheese dip. And it doesn't make my tummy hurt. Nay, living for God--living this life as I was created to--is like breathing fresh air after burning the rubber belt on the vacuum. It's so sweet you actually feel it flow through your bloodstream.
I want to always live like this. Free. Whole. Right.
Thank you, God, for enabling us, your children, to live for you. I know as twisted as I am that without your help I couldn't please you. So thank you for your help. And thank you for big things you call us to do and the absolute thrill when we get to experience your life running through our veins. Guard my heart, mind, soul, and body that I may dwell in your presence more tomorrow than today, and ever more after that. All my love!
But, it was seriously cool. I feel like we bonded over the experience.
And today, we celebrated.
I supplied a frozen yogurt that was way too big and God brought the gifts.
Namely, he supplied killer weather. Since I was outside for a good portion of the afternoon, the fifty degrees he set up and cerulean sky were a total blessing. He also supplied extra free time to spend on pursuits he's given me. And if that weren't enough, he sent me a sweet lady with words of encouragement that were a fire to my spirit.
Here's the thing about living for God. When I actually do it, it's more addictive than cheese dip. And it doesn't make my tummy hurt. Nay, living for God--living this life as I was created to--is like breathing fresh air after burning the rubber belt on the vacuum. It's so sweet you actually feel it flow through your bloodstream.
I want to always live like this. Free. Whole. Right.
Thank you, God, for enabling us, your children, to live for you. I know as twisted as I am that without your help I couldn't please you. So thank you for your help. And thank you for big things you call us to do and the absolute thrill when we get to experience your life running through our veins. Guard my heart, mind, soul, and body that I may dwell in your presence more tomorrow than today, and ever more after that. All my love!
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