Starting Again

In the new year, it seems to be the tendency of many to begin something new, or to pick up old hobbies/practices/diets.


There are pots of tea that wait for mugs and friends and conversation.
Blank composition notebooks waiting to be filled with thoughts, dreams, prayers, and worries.
By my bed, books of reflections and deovtions wait to be read and thought and prayed over.
There are sermons to write and preach.

My bike has been largely stationary, waiting to be a bike instead of a sculpture, since I fell off of it in March last year.
There are SEVERAL containers full of fabric and a much-neglected (although not as much recently) sewing machine that beckon me to act in creativity.
There are pots and pans and recipe cards that could all use a workout.
There's a gym membership that is waiting to be renewed.
Dance shoes that want to go on my feet and move me across a floor.

And, lest we forget, syllabi, books for class, papers, exams, committee meetings, and pile upon pile of paperwork that will cross my desk in the coming months.

And a (very cute) calender that I'm not sure will hold it all.

But, you know, so many of these things are soul-filling, and necessary.  There are things here that contribute so much to who I am and who God means for me to be, and I think that the power of a support system and the sanity saving of that calendar and those lovely to-do lists it'll happen.

And if it doesn't, life WILL go on.

Resolutions: A Redux and a look forward

Last year, I got specific in a big way in a journal entry that was several pages long, but I put it in a nutshell for you guys and I'll put the central kernel of that nutshell here for the whole world to see, once more:

"I want to end this year further down the path to who I am."

And you know (whoever YOU are), I think I did.
I think that it is inevitable to grow... But I like to think that I did lots of that this year.  Selfish of me, I know, but one's twenties are meant to be selfish.  Kyoko Escamilla had it right in the quote featured in this doodle.

And I want to be selfish, and build up the cocoon of this community to strengthen myself for what life is to look like:  I want to keep growing into who I am meant to be, and who God is forming me to be, in all of the messiness, the hope, the tears, the dancing, and the songs.

Can I get an Amen?

Organizing frenzy

Fall is here, and for some bizarre reason, it makes me want to nest.  I have stripped beds, cleaned bathrooms, and gone through closets.  I made 2 trips to the clothes closet last month to give things away, and will likely bring that number up quite a bit in the coming weeks.

Having access to all of my things-giving them a use- has suddenly become more important.  William Morris said it wonderfully, and Lisa Congdon  lettered it beautifully... So, while I am thankful for my things and my ability to purchase/obtain/keep them, my aim is to remove at least 1 everyday that does not meet these qualifications.

Tips are welcome.

The Jesse Tree

I'm working at a funky little Presbyterian church under the title of "seminary intern"... I miss my Disciples roots dearly, but I'm discovering some awesome things too.

What that title, in all of its ambiguity means, is that I am getting to learn a lot in this community of faith, and although I wasn’t much of a fan of this facet at first (It seems that seminary interns always wind up working with the children and not doing much else), I am beginning to really enjoy the time I spend with these children, and live into the gift that I have for working with them and their families.

We began advent early.  We started yesterday. 

You see, we’re making Jesse Trees together, using as our guide Geraldine McCaughrean’s absolutely beautiful book. 

And it means I get to walk through these narratives on my own.  And make things… And look at all of these narratives and how they weave in and out of one another. 

And y’all? 

I get to spend amazing time with these kids and their families. 

The journey that I am embarking on is one I may share here, because the curriculum is a work in progress and it seems like this is a good venue for sharing and learning in it. 

I'm more than a little okay with the fact that this blog has had no pageviews in a minute...
It;s about to be reinvented to talk about my life as a Seminarian in search for balance and a way to care about me... In mind, body, and spirit.
I want to eat well.  And healthily.  And frugally.
I want to move my body.
I want, more than anything, to stay in touch with the still, small voice that started this journey.

And I want the accountability of sharing bits and pieces of that journey with you.

Hey look! It's me!

Jerry Burns took a picture of  one of the second moms of my childhood, Morgan, and he featured her on his amazing new-life resolution, 21 Days. It takes dedication to do anything for 21 days in a row, and you are rewarded(or cursed) with a habit.  So, Jerry has endeavored to form some habits.
Writing a letter of thanks every day.
Playing guitar for at least 30 minutes a day.
And taking a portrait every day.
 Well, I was Day 199... So it worked, friends.  And I got to have a coffee and conversation with this guy, who's pretty cool.

And, I think it strenghtened my resolve to get better habits in place too.  So, hopefully, you'll see the fruits of some of those here.

Lent and Looking to Holy Week

In many ways, some of my Lenten practices will not end on Easter Sunday... and I don't think I ever really intended for them to.

I have faithfully read a chapter a week of Practicing Our Faith…

Times of Yearning, Practices of Faith.

Honoring the Body.

Hospitality.

Household Economics.

And this week, Saying Yes and Saying No.

There are lots of chapters left, and, turning to Holy week, I find myself convicted in some practices and wanting to more fully delve into the discovery of others.  Sabbath’s importance has been realized on this Lenten journey, and I have learned that there are many miles left on the journey. But the thing that is important to me right now is that the journey has begun and I am convicted in it.  

These practices interweave… When you honor your body, there is a sense of extension into saying yes and saying no.  Practices of good faithful household economics mean we are able to extend hospitality, and that we are encouraged to consider how we care for our planet and ourselves… and we learn to say no to the excess and the things we do not need in our lives, and to say yes with our time and our money and our energy to the things that matter and that encourage hospitality and honoring the body.

This is an AMAZING book.  For individuals and for communities.  I highly encourage it.

Ouch...

I don’t know if I have vented on this here, but man oh man, breaking your tailbone?

Hurts. 

And not moving when you’re used to moving lots? Oh, the frustrations abound, friends.

But there is much more joy in the little things, and I pray that when(not if, but when) I get back on a bike, I will appreciate so much more the ability to feel wind on my face and I will doubtless be wearing my helmet.  I’m going to enjoy swinging my hips and digging into the steps of Lindy and Blues like it’s my job, and I am going to pick up all of the little ones that God’s put in my life these days, and crawl around with them.

While I try to be still and let my bones knit back together, I have had lots more time in which to sit and write- and read… Does this mean I’m getting the schoolwork I need to done? Not necessarily.  It means I’m working on my soul though, and in this sort of mandatory stillness I have begun to explore a creative side and a spiritual side that lose out when we land solidly in a mind/body meld of the sort that comes with being an academic and training for something big.

It means I’m sewing.

It means I am sleeping (okay, the meds mean I am sleeping)deeply and, finally, somewhere close to enough. 

So, all in all, life’s good.  It's taken a little while to get past the pity party, but now that I am, I love the good I am seeing.

Soapbox

Consider yourself warned, but, no matter how many times it is said, it can always be said one more time.

Wear.

Your.

HELMET.

I don't care if it's a short ride, if it looks silly, or if you think you're too cool for it.  It could save your brain.  I'm not exactly a beginning cyclist, and certainly no expert, and I fell off my bike recently- not in traffic, and I am fine- and I hit hard enough to break my tailbone and crack my helmet.  I walked (okay, hobbled...) away from that because I was smart enough to protect my noggin.
So please, friends.  Protect yours.  We are tasked with the care of God's Creation, and we have to remember that we are indeed a part of that equation.

Noise and Sounds

There is something to removing distractions… and, it’s funny how sometimes it takes something disciplined to bring out the need for disciplines.  I think that one of the lovely things about silence is that it is an effort these days, and one so very worth it.

I can’t say I have been as successful as I would like in making room for silence in my life these days- there are so many noises that seem to demand attention- right now- and I, all too often, listen.  Computers whir away, and keys click-clack.  Ads play on the radio.  I respond to the email or I play that game someone just challenged me to… I check a little screen again and again, and the noises keep coming.

Noise is not the only thing demanding my attention though, and for that I am infinitely grateful.  Sometimes, and gratefully more often than noise, it is sound… Laughter.  Prayer.  Affirmation.  Thoughts voiced.  Soft chatter of people talking, really talking, in the background of a coffee shop.   And, a favorite, to which I hope to drift off this evening, the sound of rain pit-patting on windows.


Sound is God's music of the world when we're not quite ready for silence, and I am thankful for it these days.