What to do.

"Early to bed, early to rise..." Bleah.

I can't figure out how to get back on the horse of being on time for work. In fact, I'm not sure I ever have achieved true progress in this area - just a few mornings of accidental punctuality. I am who I am. But why am I late?

I remember missing the bus in 7th grade. I remember my Dad, fuming, racing me to school. I remember that I had to go to detention for being tardy to first period 7 times in one semester. Apparently, I've got a long-standing issue here.

I've said it stems from my having "no concept of time." I really don't estimate how long things will take with any accuracy at all. "I'll be there in 20 minutes." Why do I even SAY things like this, when I know I'm going to be wrong? I'll inevitably look at the clock, and think, "Oh, I've still got time to...just one last..." Ugh.

I'm a mess. Other than deliverance from the Spirit of Late, how can I make real and lasting change when it comes to being on time for things? And WHY is it so hard for me?

Please, feel free to offer any insight or motivation. This is like pulling out my own teeth.

Granular Vocabulary

One of my 7th graders tipped me off to a website that will feed hungry people for free, if you know your words. Go to freerice.com and check it out - they'll donate 10 grains of rice for each correct answer you can give, and you can view totals as you go. The project is linked to the UN, and various other relief organizations.

I guess 10 grains is a start?

It's actually kind of fun to know that I can simultaneously increase my vocabulary AND stop world hunger. Check, and check.

The DMV is your friend.

When I left for the DMV on my lunch break today, I expected to spend the better part of my free period sitting on one of those long pews in the waiting area, watching the little sign flash customer numbers in no particular order. I know how it goes - and I knew that my attempting to achieve registration renewal AND an address change in the time I had available would be a stretch. Lunch hour + government office = lines out the door, and the need for some reading material. I packed a book in my purse.

I got in line (which was, by the way, just barely inside the door) and prayed that I had brought everything I needed. Seems like every time, I forget something that holds everything up. A second form of ID, my kindergarten transcripts... I watched the woman behind the information desk (where the sign says EVERYONE must stop before going any further) and noticed that they had the right woman for the job - she was able, even when turning away frustrated citizens (who forgot to bring some necessary form or the blood of a goat) to maintain a cheery smile that seemed to say, "I look forward to helping you when you're ready to do this my way."

I stepped up and said what I'd been practicing saying in my head while watching her turn away the 3 people in front of me. Not many make it past her to the pews. "I need to change my address and renew my registration with the new address." I prayed. Do you remember the scene from Neverending Story where the boy is trying to get past the two creepy statues that singe you with their laser beam eyes if you don't have a pure heart?

She gave me two forms, and a number. B605.

My number got called, and I was in and out in no more than 10 minutes. I had to pay the $31 fee to renew, but the little sticker for the back of my license was free. I was back at my desk in less than an hour.

So, I just had to say it. The DMV isn't so bad after all. I've been putting this off, thinking I'd be stuck there without food or water for longer than I've ever fasted before - but no. I still got my lunch break.

Wheat Thins and hummus.

thankfully yours

There might be something big happening. I have only begun to scratch at the thing. But the thing is there. With me. Moving towards me, from behind some window, or on the other side of my drinking glass. All wavy and thick, I can make out the shape of someone and hear the response they are having to the sound of my breathing. I am in need of a vacation.

On Tuesday I will leave school and not come back for 5 days. I will eat and talk with family, and think about who I have spent my time with for the past year - where I have decided my heart should go. My body? I haven't seen Colorado in some time. I haven't seen Nebraska in even longer. I am busy making a new home, in a new city. I suppose I should quit thinking of somewhere else as home, when I've lived here for four years. They said it might take a while. It has.

Distance to and from make no sense any more. To think of closeness in relationship in degrees seems like a silly thing to do. Why are humans so linear? It's unfortunate that we have brains built for time. Our spirits can't make sense of it. We are, in fact, supposed to be timeless, fixing ourselves somewhere beyond it. This life, this time, should not be home. We've forgotten.

I believe there can be seasons, even in friendship. I know a girl, and I can't get her time unless I am having a crisis. I can't bring myself to schedule an appointment two weeks in advance - I will not resolve myself to the idea that we have to do friendship like grown-ups. It sucks, but I miss her and would rather let this season go by us, without straining against it too much. Trying too hard messes things up. Instead, I know that we've gone deep in the past, and there will be no breaking the foundation we've established between us. Somehow, despite the months that have passed, I know we will eventually be sipping coffee and gesturing wildly with our hands as we catch up on life. I love her. And I won't lose her - I think I'd have to try to lose her. Real relationship rests.

Rests.

"Love suffers long and is kind;
love does not envy;
love does not parade itself, is not puffed up;
does not behave rudely, does not seek its own, is not provoked, thinks no evil;
does not rejoice in iniquity, but rejoices in the truth;
bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.
Love never fails..."

I Corinthians 13:4-8a

the coffee drunk

I think the staff of the Charles Finney School needs to detox. We drink a LOT of coffee. I used to make a pot and drink it every day at work. I now make my coffee at home, and drink only what fits in my travel mug - except for the days when I ALSO fill up at work, or on the way to work, or on the way home, or later that night, or if I happen to bring a THERMOS. I just sort of enjoy my thermos, for it's style. Stainless steel, and pretty slick.

I have discovered that even my small habit has affected my performance. I can hardly form a coherent thought while teaching my first period social studies class until I've had a significant portion of what's in my mug. Usually, I'm fine.

But then there are days like today that I'm a little more accident prone than usual. I have been running into things all day. I have knocked things over, dropped things, splashed and spilled...and the thing is that I'd NORMALLY say something like, "Gee, guess I need some coffee." But I've already had it. Is the caffeine having the opposite affect after so long? Am I just in a chronic state of needing more? Has my habit started controlling ME???

I have a problem.

Draining the pool

If all my options were open all the time, I'd be in trouble. I'm thankful that someday, I will find out that the decisions I made today were right, or wrong. To think that doors never close would be a horrible place to be - we need change to keep moving. I need it. I need to know that my choices led me from one room to another - from one side of the wall to the other. I think (optimistically) that there are better, more beautiful rooms for me to see in this place God's given me. Whatever it is.

There is a day every autumn where I find myself reevaluating. It's like I take all the pieces out of the puzzle I've been working on and go, "Wait - was this a monkey or a unicorn?" It's the moment I check the box to make sure I know what the picture is supposed to be. I think through all the things that make up my life, take up my time, hold weight in my heart. Maybe it's the changing of seasons that puts me in this mood - leaves falling, blusters of snow showing up, darkness when there used to be daylight. It shakes things up. Makes me aware, again, that the world is turning under me (over me?) and maybe it's time for change.

Time to clean up. Time to prepare. Straighten what's gotten tangled, bolden what's become weak. Time to start again.

Whenever I go there, I remember what I always set out to be about - dwelling. I want to dwell well. I want to be right where I am supposed to be, and content with knowing it. Unfortunately, I have no idea how to make that stick on a day to day basis. I am continually plagued with this need to question.

Probably, the questioning is a product of having been raised to believe that God has a will, and you might not be in it. Phrases like "if it's God's will" and "being out of God's will" made me think that the possibility of NOT being in God's will was greater than the chance of me finding myself in it on any given day. That if I hadn't done the maintenance, I would most definitely have fallen out of it. Like getting plaque if you don't brush regularly. It will happen.

I guess there's some element of truth to this. I mean, neglecting your spiritual journey with the Father will make you lose focus in other important areas. You'll probably still be rolling in the car, but you've forgotten where you're headed, and have let up on the gas. But to be led to believe that God's will - and being IN God's will - were like this place up a river that you've got to keep working and striving to get to, or like getting a door to open against an especially forceful gust of wind...doesn't this seem like an awful lot of work? What about love?

If God is at all like the good father portrayed in the scriptures, I have to believe he's going to make it as easy as possible to find him, and even easier to stay once you're there. Why the prodigal ever left is beyond me. Fattened calf and all...

Good dads teach you to drive. Mine sat in the passenger's seat while I cried out for more instructions - he would simply tell me I was "fine" and keep a calm voice. He would let me experience mistakes in technique so I'd learn what it felt like, and what to do about it. He worked the fear out of me.

And he stayed in the car.

Maybe God's will comes to us. Maybe we're not slipping in and out of it so much as we're kicking God out of our car when we think we've "got it." Then, when we realize we're lost and confused, we're like, "Why, oh WHY have you forsaken me?" Stupid student drivers. We never have to go it alone. We never have to be without. We ought to never stop asking what next, and realize that when there's silence, maybe we're supposed to listen and learn. Maybe we're "fine" and should stop panicking.

Anyway, time to make sure I am still in the car with Jesus. Time to make sure we're headed where we meant to go.

I remember my drivers ed teacher giving me instructions, and my being confused. He stopped talking, and let me take the wrong turn, and end up on the expressway. I was scared. We were only on for one exit, but after that I knew where I'd gone wrong! Never made the same mistake again. Maybe, sometimes, good teachers are silent.

Too many metaphors?

In the beginning...

...I blogged a lot more.

I just finished Rob Bell's SexGod - very thought provoking. I've decided to take up my abandoned quest to learn biblical Hebrew. I know 5 consonants and 2 vowels. I'm awesome.

Also, started reading Blink - WHERE is this book going?? Apparently my gut reaction can be a scientifically supported judgment? Insanity. But I like it. And I like saying things like, "Go with your gut."

Some kind of race

Hurry, hurry, hurry if you want to get the best before it's gone..........and it's going to be gone if you don't hurry --

I have a problem. The things I think I want always deceive me. They make me think I must have them now - but not because they're going away...no, it's because I have been at this long enough to know that my wanting will probably disappear. By my wanting and then getting what I want, even when the want is gone I will have that thing I wanted - as a little reminder of who I was in that moment of time. What I absolutely had to have and couldn't rest without. Let me illustrate.

I have a Game Boy Advance with about 10 games. This was a product of my insatiable desire to regain lost years of gaming as a child, since my parents felt my having a game system in my school years would lead to no good. (It's ok - don't feel too sad for me. My friend Mary had one, and I spent a lot of time over there.) So, as a 25 year old woman, I watched the prices fall on these little beauties, watched the sale ads, drooled over the color choices, and looked at them in every store I visited. Finally, one day, I did it. I bought the Game Boy. Color? Flame.

And I played. I bought the old Nintendo games for this little beauty, attempting to fill those little holes in me that screamed, "I never beat Super Mario Brothers! I never saved the princess!!" And I carried it around with me just for fun and show - like I'd somehow really made it into my generation by owning this - my right of passage.

If indeed I needed this thing, if my desire for and acquiring of this little toy was a necessary part of my story, then why is it sitting in the back seat of my car under the pile of crap I carry around with me at all times just in case? Why did I go through a period of several weeks between moves where you could have asked me where it was, and I'd have told you I had no idea? Why do I have it? Don't get me wrong - I do enjoy the fact that I can play Risk any time I want. But on any given day, when I do find down time, what I choose to do with that time says everything about me.

Balance is a word that I think about a lot. I always come back to the idea that too much of anything spoils. I know that I am not happy on the other side of 6 hours of TV watching. I know that if I blow an entire evening with my Game Boy, I'll wake up tired and wondering why I didn't read something, or write something, or talk to someone. Time suckers.

My church has been dealing lately with the idea of rest. That perhaps we've never learned what that word means. We think that somehow just not working equals rest. But in truth, rest takes an entering in. You don't just find yourself in it - you have to go there. You have to choose to direct yourself towards it, walk to the door, open it, and step into it. And (alas) it takes an exiting as well. Beauty, though - you can actually frequent this place. Make it home. Make it where you go any chance you get.

I distinctly remember a time in my life where I knew what this looked like. I was in early high school, and my days were cramped and crowded. But my nights...when the house was quiet, and I was supposed to be headed to bed, I would instead rest. Candles, journal, Bible, and Iona playing softly in the background. I would sprawl on my floor and just totally let down in the presence of God. I can't even begin to explain what kind of things went on there - so sweet, so real. The pages of my Bible are wrinkled from both my tears as I longed for more of what He was showing me - and my drool, when I would wake up with my cheek stuck to the words somewhere in the Psalms. This overwhelming sense that all of me was exactly the way it should be. That who I was, and who I was becoming at that time made perfect, orderly sense to my Father, and that He was in fact making me...the same way He had been making me from the beginning. My beginning.

All of this is right. I didn't know then that I was being taught perhaps the most profoundly practical lesson I'd ever get about walking with God. Intimacy. Intimacy. Intimacy.

So if it's not my bedroom floor from 11-3am, maybe it's the back porch from 6-8. Maybe it's a park bench at dawn. Maybe it's the drive to work. Maybe it's the kitchen table at 11am, when no one else is home. Wherever you can get quiet, alone, still, and wait - just wait. If you don't know how to get to rest, ask. If you don't know what it looks like for you, ask. I think it is as individual as you are. Jesus liked mountains. I do too, but not living near any, I have to settle for something else - a trail at a local park that gives the illusion of solitude and wilderness. Just find it. Go there. Go go go go. In the endless words of Over the Rhine, the world can wait.

So what about what we want? I just know that the only thing I've ever desired and gotten and kept desiring is Jesus. The only place I go to get what I want and leave both satisfied and still longing is in that place of rest with Him. Everything else means nothing, if I can't have Him.

"But whatever was to my profit I now consider loss for the sake of Christ. What is more, I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them rubbish, that I may gain Christ and be found in him..." -Philippians 3:7-9a

Is it possible that what we really want is to be in Him? To go back to where we came from - all wrapped up like a baby, tight, safe, warm, secure and totally at rest - in the heart of the one who made us? Whatever else we want has been lying to us. Oh, people of God, wake up to what you really want. Let us burn inside for one thing - intimacy with God, knowing Him, being found in Him. God, give us pure hearts! Let our hearts desire only what is real, only what can be found in You. Let us not forget what we were made for. Let us run after You.

Pinball

THIS makes me happy:

I found the Sesame Street Pinball Machine Song.

SSSSEVEN!!

Piranha

Treat others better than they treat you.

Trees are people too.

Only one of these statements is worth the time it took to read.

Blackholes

So I went to the planetarium yesterday - turns out having a teacher's ID is a very handy thing. Free admission! Huzzah. We saw this show about eclipses. There's going to be a lunar eclipse in about 2 weeks...and it was all about how that works, why, how often, and a bunch of other stuff. It was so cool.

There was a moment where they turned the lights down even farther, so the fake night sky looked the way it would if you were way out, away from city lights. It was sort of like certain moments in Colorado at night, when you're in between mountains that block out the extra light, and the sky is so brilliant...but I was thinking about Zambia. We got to go camping while we were there - out in the bush, in the middle of 10,500 acres of game farm land owned by some guy we met. Anyway, it was dark. And the sky was totally amazing - unbelievable. No words can even describe how stunning it was - just laying out there, looking, thinking about how big...how small...just...yeah. And it was all southern hemisphere stuff, so it was a completely foreign star-viewing experience for me. Crazy.

Anyway.

27

snow girls, shovels, and dog

The other day, my nieciews were over at my Mom and Dad's house. When I pulled up, this is the scene I found in the driveway - 2 little girls with little shovels, and a dog - perched with his butt on a bank of snow. The girls had a game going - they were scooping filthy snow over to the dog, and letting him eat it. Let it be known that the dog pictured here (Keefer) has recently been "tutored." Ow.

People should read my blog.

In the interest of strangers

I recently overheard a conversation between some teenagers and a youth worker. The topic was working with the homeless in the inner city - the youth leader had noticed a fear in some of the kids of being downtown, because of issues of crime. Thinking that serving Jesus sometimes involves risk, her idea was that she would help break this fear by organizing some group outreach opportunities - serving at a soup kitchen was suggested.

I was sitting in the room, minding my own business - amused by the various comments of different kids...the girl who is NOT afraid of the city (so she says), the girl who IS afraid of the city (believes only the bad things she's heard), and the boy who will obviously go wherever the two aforementioned girls want to go. I have worked with youth for long enough (and was one recently enough) to find most of this interface familiar and amusing. Ah, the working out of salvation. Starts to get a little bubbly when it comes to serving, to feeding the poor, to sharing Christ's love with

strangers.

I sometimes like to take notice of people when they're not paying attention. I like the thought that while I'm quietly observing, they are going about their lives. I sip my coffee and catch the moment when while his child is occupied with the chocolate filling, the single father's face relaxes, and he is somewhere else entirely. I can't list the number of times where I have witnessed big happenings from the next booth over. Presents, tears, questions, reality checks, pain, life. Life is happening. And I walk with God.

What caught my ears, back in the room with the teens talking about the city, was the comment one of the boys made about the homeless, begging for money. He was cynical, making blanketing statements about how they're all "liars" - that he would never dream of giving any of his money to those "bums" because they're "just going to spend it on alcohol." I watched a mortified youth worker grope for a response to this attitude - where would she even begin to fix everything that's been programmed into this kid's head about "us" and "them" and something about God helping those who help themselves...

Here's the thing: God is concerned with our character, our obedience. He wants us to have his heart - to be conformed into the likeness of Christ. It is going to be messy, it's going to smell bad sometimes, and it is definitely going to be inconvenient to our own agendas and hang-ups. But is he more worth it than clinging to any of that stuff? Is he worth losing everything for?

The problem with what that young man said rests in his small vision. Despite the fact that we are commanded in scripture to give, he has given himself a reason to never do so - just in case the person receiving decides to use it "wrong." It's ok to never give, because there's no way to control for the way in which that gift would be used. And we wouldn't want our money to be used for the wrong thing.

Control. Isn't the point of giving that whatever is given is no longer yours? To give with conditions, with strings attached, is not giving at all. It completely misses the heart behind the kind of givers Jesus wants us to be. Isn't it better to give , to just give something and let your heart practice freedom from the spirit of greed - and to have obeyed? It is between God and the person on the receiving end of the gift what is done with it. Don't you know that the gift isn't what God is after? He wants the heart of the giver, offering freely what we've been trusted with, and the heart of the stranger - whoever they are.

Love gives. Love looks like blindsiding kindness. If we become the church I believe we are supposed to be, we won't be waiting until we're asked to give. We won't be crossing the street to avoid eye contact with someone who might ask us. We will delight in the opportunity to surrender another $5 to the immeasurable purposes of the Kingdom we 're supposed to be building here.

I had a woman give me money once. It wasn't because I was on the street asking for it, and it wasn't because I looked like I needed it. But I did. I was still new to the city, didn't know that many people, and was wondering how I was going to pay my rent.

One Sunday at church, I was approached by a woman I didn't know, who slipped a wad of cash into my hand. She just looked at me and said, "God told me this was for you." I fumbled, not sure I wanted to receive what this woman was offering. We didn't even know each other. I don't want to glaze over this scene with something shinier than it was - she was awkward about it, sort of odd in her manner, and had horrible breath. Frankly, the thought that she needed the cash more than I did crossed my mind when I looked at her clothes. But her love for Jesus was obvious, and she clearly knew what she was supposed to do to obey him - and she did it. My pride was throbbing - how could I take this woman's money? How dare she assume I needed it? How can I get out of this situation gracefully? "Well, thank you..." I said, stupidly, and she smiled and walked away.

It was later, in my apartment when I counted the cash that I began to cry. I don't remember the exact figure, but it was close to $100, I think. The fact that I hated admitting my need was something God would deal with me later on - the issue that day was a phrase that kept rolling over and over and over in my head - that He knows me. He knows what I need. I am not forgotten. What I needed, even more than the money (which I really did need), was to know that God had seen me, knew where I was, and was there with me in the middle of my mess. He would even go so far as to send a stranger to let me know that.

Be that stranger. Make up your mind that if you see a need, you will respond. Big or small - whatever. Give it all. Who cares - if it's one more person that gets a clue how deep and how wide and how high the love of Christ is, then who cares? The kid is right - you can't control for what that money will be used for. That woman that gave me cash? She probably didn't think about the fact that I had dug my own financial hole, and it was years later that I would get a clue how to manage my money. But that wasn't the point. I saw Jesus that day. It interrupted my life, broke into my lonely funk and woke me up on the inside - something I desperately needed. Desperately. I was desperate for a fresh touch of the love of God.

People are desperate all around us. People we don't think need anything we have. The challenge is to be watchful, discerning, and obedient. Respond. We can't let any excuse redirect our focus. We are responsible for what we do on this earth. And what we don't.

fashion concept

I don't believe in shoulder pads.

I have decided.

I have spent most of this day in my room, watching the storm outside. A snow storm - just tons of white everywhere. It's coming down consistently, and they say we'll have feet by the time it's over. My brother has been outside to shovel the driveway about 6 times today.

It really is strange how long we can go without
thinking about the fact that we are at the mercy of a huge system of weather on this planet. There's always stuff going on - BIG stuff - tsunamis, hurricanes, tornadoes...but I spend most of my life in places unaffected by those. I can get in my car, get where I am going, and not worry about whether my house will be there when I get home.

Safely distant. Except for this time of year upstate New York. Snow, baby. We've got snow.

Two of my students were victims of Hurricane Katrina. They moved here to live with family after they lost everything. There are five of them, I think, who are attending our school, all cousins and siblings, blending in until I ask for a creative writing on a topic of their choice, and they choose "Life Before Hurricane Katrina" as a heading. I almost lost my train of thought when giving instructions on a journal entry assignment for our Diary of Anne Frank unit, called "What Would You Pack?" I wanted the kids to think about what it would be like to have to leave your home and your possessions behind, not knowing if you'd ever be able to return, and what you would decide to take with you in one shoulder bag - just like Anne Frank, when she went into hiding with her family. Halfway through my explanation, I glanced over and caught the look on one boy's face - and suddenly I stopped, remembering that he probably does know what that's like. He's living here, because he can't go back to his home in New Orleans.

Ironically, I know what I would pack. It's pretty much the contents of my trashed old Timbuk2 bag at any given moment. Bible, journal, pens, paper, a few books, some money, and Burt's Beeswax Lip Balm. Just in case.

Holding loosely to our plans and our possessions is not natural for our modernized selves. But I think it is possible. And it is what God desires of us. If I find I'm obsessed with my finances, it's time to start giving more. If I find I'm consumed with getting the latest, hottest, must-have toys, I need to put my face in all the stuff I've already got, and then purge or pass on some of it. And if my schedule is spiraling out of control to the point where I am up nights worrying about how it will all get done in time, I need to stop. Just stop.

" 'Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal; but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.' " - Jesus in Matthew 6:19-21

" 'Therefore I say to you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat and what you will drink; nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air, for they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father fees them. Are you not of more value than they? Which of you by worrying can add one cubit to his stature? So why do you worry about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin; and yet I say to you that even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these...Therefore do not worry...For your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added to you. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about its own things. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.' " - Jesus in Matthew 6:25-34

"Come now, you who say, 'Today or tomorrow we will go to such and such a city, spend a year there, buy and sell, and make a profit'; whereas you do not know what will happen tomorrow. For what is your life? It is even a vapor that appears for a little time and then vanishes away. Instead you ought to say, 'If the Lord wills, we shall live and do this or that.' " - James 4:13-17

I don't suppose I'll ever really get the idea. I just got a new phone that plays mp3's, and I just placed an order for a new Timbuk2 bag and some clothes. I spent part of my morning pouring over my finances, and decided to give a sweater that I never wear to my sister. My Valentine's Day plans got stalled on account of this weather - and now all I can do is wait and be reminded that I am not in control of any of this. My finances, my stuff, my plans, this weather, this world - today, tomorrow, or any day. It's not up to me. It's not - ANY of it - mine.

What does Jesus want that I've got? What have I got that Jesus wants? What is he waiting for me to realize is his to begin with? What have I been calling mine that's his? Is there anything I've been leaning so hard on, resting so much of my heart and time and energy in, that he may well strip me of so I'll realize it wasn't strong enough to hold me? Will I let him show me before it comes to that? Will I willingly reposition myself to be boasting in him, resting myself in him, trusting in him, relying on him?

Pachalbel.

Most of you know how I feel about Pachalbel. Particularly his most famed composition, loathed by cellists everywhere. I recently was led to this guy's commentary on the subject:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JdxkVQy7QLM&eurl

Hope you'll enjoy it.

Georgia

I wanted to go through the Georgia O'Keeffe exhibit that was at the Memorial Art Gallery downtown. The last day, the last viewing, and I was staring at Dark Iris in wonder. It was incredible. I am always surprised at my reaction to those settings - something in me buzzing, parts of me moving that I don't get to take for a ride too often. That ought to change.

"A hill or a tree cannot make a good painting just because it is a hill or tree. It is lines and colors put together so that they may say something."

I was particularly fascinated with a series of photographs in which she was the subject. There were a few of her hands that were stunning. I have a thing about hands. A lot of people have tried to get to the bottom of it, but really it's just a thing. You know. Something I notice about the people I meet. And the people I am trying to get to know. Yes, I've probably looked at your hands. Do not be alarmed.

Passion for something is an amazing thing. I don't think it's something that can be conjured up by choice. I think you have to have it planted in you by an outside source - namely, the Spirit of God. I also think it can be overgrown, unprotected. And, after neglect, completely forgotten. That is, until you pass by something that wakes it up.

It is difficult to live with all the parts of you awake at once. I mean, every one of us has so many little nuances about our hearts - the kind of stuff you could spend years trying to anticipate and explain to each other, and still miss something. We don't even know ourselves well enough to go there. And for every little corner we haven't walked around in a while, somethings hiding, waiting to be called up and put to use. And the oldest ones are getting really sleepy and tired of waiting.

Georgia O'Keeffe struck me as someone who knew what she was going at. I saw photos of her as a young woman in New York, and as an old woman in New Mexico. Both women with their hair swept back and a calm countenance that makes you want to know what she's thinking. Security in how she's coming out - not concerned with what she may have missed or where she may have gone wrong. There was something in the way that she accepted her desire to paint, to create, to respond to beauty around her, to receive the vision she had for her art - freedom that others now pay to get close to a portion of. They look at her flowers, her landscapes, her blue sky and white bone, even the photos taken by the man she fell in love with that give us her face - and all these stages of her life are beautiful. We are fascinated with her journey.

I want to be fascinated with my journey.

"But as it is written:
'Eye has not seen, nor ear heard,
Nor have entered into the heart of man
The things which God has prepared for those who love Him.' "

2 Cor. 2:9