shouts of joy

It's easier to look back right now. I look back and see an open door full of opportunity, sorta like the one I see right now. But looking back it was easier then. The view isn't full of overwhelm, but it looks more like freedom. It was a beautiful frame of broken pieces being liberated. She didn't know that then. But now, looking back ... that was easy ... easier than what's ahead. People tell me that my anxiety about the future beyond next week is related to maturity, "When you're my age you'll see it differently." "It changes when you turn 30." "Don't worry, it gets better." (what?) Okay, so if you're right, if it is maturity, what am I suppose to do for the next four years? And shouldn't their be some kind of progress? And why does the idea of anything beyond the next couple of weeks make me want to run far away toward solace? If it is maturity, wouldn't you expect to see some "maturing" from age ...

I appreciate the act of acceptance. Just makes you feel bigger than before, brighter than before, like you have something to give. When you encounter a funny tattoo on a girls leg, and soon enough her smile relates to yours and the tattoo is part of a unique story that becomes your own and acceptance happens. When the truth of his story is revealed and before you can say another word you know by the depth in his eyes that his past is another life which he hardly recognizes and acceptance happens. When you sit down and focus on the eccentric young woman across from you and learn that her heart is more eccentric than her funky dress and layers of jewelry and that she speaks 4 languages to teach mothers in Africa about health and survival and somehow acceptance happens. Somehow the stories behind the frames can mold our perspectives. So often I feel that our outward appearances are overlooked and sadly what is stirring in our hearts is masked by the makeup, jewelry, colorful dresses, shap...

It's late, some might say it's early, but my bedtime was hours ago and I'm so okay with that. This Sabbath was full. One of my favorite friends, Emily, is back in town and this morning we had coffee while sharing ideas about marriage, family, and weddings as she prepares to become a Mrs. My heart is so full for her. We laughed, cried and sipped our coffee then headed off to ReLive, the young adult church service. I hope married people are still allowed to attend the young peoples ReLive church. I know it's silly, but I ruminated on that thought today. I think they will. After church and a fun conversation at lunch about traveling we went to the beach and played in the saltwater until we were out of breath from fighting against the strong currents. We played some volleyball, a new game I'm learning called spikeball and talked about friends and family and the possible events of our ten year high school reunion that will take place in a couple short years. Tonight I...

The other day, I took a bus from Pasco, WA to Portland, OR. Being the person I am, I marched up the steps of the bus with my backpack slung over my shoulder and tossed it in a vacant seat without any reservations. I listened to conversations around me as we waited for others to board and found them entertaining. But when we finally rolled away from the station my nerves began to escalate so I tried to sleep. Sleeping didn’t last too long and I began planning my next move if our bus was attacked. If a shooter was on board what I might do, or if the bus driver took a wrong turn down a dark alley, or if someone tried to take my bag. While I calculated my moves I played it cool by playing around on my phone and reading a book. With my hidden fear I sat quite alert for the rest of the 5 hour trip. Busses just aren’t the best form of public transportation these days. The common person flies, the more adventurous common person takes a train, and anyone else who can’t afford the alternati...

--> This morning I drove toward the sun like a moth flies toward the lamp. I was reminded how gently the sun comes out everyday, so slow and patient. I lifted my hands up as I sang a song that has been my theme song lately, Brokenness Aside by All Sons and Daughters (if you haven't heard it, just Youtube it real quick). My word for the week is Gentle. I’ve challenged the young ladies in our Friday lunch book club to choose 1 word every week. 1 word in which we independently attempt to become more of every day. 1 word that might be challenging to put on every morning, but might add a sparkle to our wardrobe. They choose such hard words every week – Vulnerable, Inviting, Engage. The experiences they share when we meet every Friday are so fun. I’ve been so inspired by them. As the weeks begin their own dwindling spiral to a cliff’s edge, I have begun dwindling toward the edge of insanity. My mind cannot stop, I wake up at night recalculating the 1 million and 2 thing...

It is unearned love -- the love that goes before, that greets us on the way. It's the help you receive when you have no bright ideas left, when you are empty and desperate and have discovered that your best thinking and most charming charm have failed you. Grace is the light or electricity or juice or breeze that takes you from that isolated place and puts you with others who are as startled and embarrassed and eventually grateful as you are to be there.  Sometimes grace is like a ribbon of mountain air that gets in through the cracks. -Anne Lammott