Laundromats.

(This happened in September, two years ago.) Once, while driving on Hamline Avenue on a tepid, stuffy night that made the streetlights wobble slowly when you squinted at them, I noticed a laundromat that I had never seen before. Generally, I am attracted to laundromats, although I cannot say why or that I have ever actually been inside of one. Even the ones with red neon signs that have one letter blinked out and chipped paint on the walls are soothing to me. Because of this, when we were stopped at that vacant intersection with the quiet trees, it wasn’t terribly surprising to me when it happened like it always happens. I looked out the window and to my right was the laundromat, all bright and greenish and empty in the dark, and I felt, suddenly, the customary twinge of familiarity steel into the Buick and settle down beside me.

Some would refer to this as déjà vu, but I would say it was more like the feeling you get when everyone is in the family room at Christmastime. I wanted to throw open the car door dramatically and run to the laundromat and explain to everyone in the car that this place, with its orange polypropylene bucket chairs and scuffed floor, was actually where I had been raised. I would tell them that I spent my young years here chewing Fruit Stripe gum and pacing back and forth in front of the dull roar of laundering clothes. I would explain how I made up stories with my hands about the sea and ships for my little brother who always sat quietly, cross-legged, on the broken and bulging tile, watching me.

Mother would be seated with the newspaper, of course, elegant somehow in slip-on Keds, waiting for the surge of clothes. Occasionally she would look at us or look into the black circle of water that was my favorite blue blanket, Dad’s black sweatshirt with the wolf howling at the moon, and all the other navy or black clothes we owned. The swishing of wet, frothy soap and the thrumming of those shuddering appliances would unfailingly assure us that everything in the world was right. We were irrevocably safe here on the vinyl floor while women in flowered dresses and old men who had no teeth discussed Julia Child and the rainstorm coming that afternoon in a quiet murmur.

Well, I don’t have a brother, and that night, I had no story to recount regarding the idyllic romanticism of being brought up amidst thirty laundry machines back in the nineties. I stayed in the car, and we drove back to the dorm with the radio blaring and the windows down.

Just because I was curious, though, that night after Hamline Avenue, I emailed my mom to find out if we had ever gone to laundromats when I was young. It felt too familiar to be all in my head.

She emailed back promptly and explained that yes, when I was two, while they were first married and living in a small apartment for a few months beneath my grandparents. During the transition from apt. to the house that they were building in the suburbs, all laundering was moved to said laundromat.

It was satisfying to know my intuition was real. Those feelings of security and comfort were there because I had actually felt them in the past.

I still feel pretty affectionate about laundromats. So... if you ever feel like adventuring to wash your clothes, I'm down.

Safety.

"Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine." I read this today. In Isaiah 43.

Lately I have been struggling with knowing that these words are for me. I've been holding back from bringing my fears and pains to Him. Logically, I know this is truth. But I tell myself that my sin gets in the way or the burdens I wrestle with are not really that important or hearing me ache about the same issue over and over again is becoming monotonous for Him. 

Ha. What a bunch of lies. None of that is true. He commands us to fear not, and not only does He cover us and the darkness in our flesh, but He names us as His beloved. He calls us His own. I am His alone. There is no need to fear fear because all of it has fled with this great and vivid light that is His love.

I am learning what this looks like. Sometimes I think these verses are just abstract ideas for people who are living fairly perfect, more faithful, or less sinful lives than me. I don't let myself feel protected by the promises.

But I am. These words do apply to me. And I am immensely thankful for it.

Winter Edition 2.

I wore my coat all day today. Even inside - at my desk in all my classes and while I was eating lunch. I actually forgot what shirt I had put on that morning and was wearing underneath. It was 40 degrees out, but it was windy and felt colder.

Typically, I don't love winter. I don't like being cold (unless I'm trying to sleep), and in the winter, that's pretty unavoidable. (Someone told me that men have a higher tolerance for cold - is this true?) Last year's mid-west winter was one of the hardest we've had, and it stretched well on into spring. I don't want to be bitter or anything, but I can't help feeling a bit of unhealthy anticipation at this next wintry season.

In effort to stay cheerful and not be anxious about the snow that is coming, I'm trying to dwell on the cozier, familiar, and exciting things that are coming this winter. Dwell with me.

1. There is Christmas. About mid-August, I start wishing it was Christmastime (just like in late January, I start wishing it was summer.) I remember present-shopping in the mall with my family when I was little, and now, the mall smells like Christmas and familiarity to me sometimes. At the house, there are wood fires downstairs, homemade cranberry tea, and lots of cookie making. We always whip out the Mannheim Steamroller's CD from the 90's and set up the tree together. Really, I can't wait.

2. Warm showers. They're warm in the summer but feel even warmer in the winter, yes they do. Here's a tip. Let the shower warm up and steam up the room before you get in. It will ease the shock and make getting wet feel a bit less deathly.

3. Futons and movie nights. When the big blizzard hit last year, Els, Amy, and I pulled out the futon, bought a bunch of Reeses Pieces, crackers, and cheese and camped out with movies until it was over.

4. Snow Days! Now being in an apartment, I will miss the craze of the dorms when the school announces that there is no school. The tribes were pretty restless last year.

5. Snowshoeing. This on my bucket list of things to do before I die. Apparently Bethany's family has six pairs, and now she just told me [as she is sitting at her desk] that she's going to bring them to campus this winter so we can go. Life dream fulfilled. Check.

6. Candles. Yeah yeah I know this is an all-year-round thing, but somehow it just seems more snug when there's snow blowing around outside. We don't have a fireplace in our apartment (wouldn't that be a treat), so maybe we'll just compile all the candles we own together in a group and light them and pretend it's one (and be careful not to burn the apt. complex down).

7. Buy a good blanket. This is another tip. Get one that's really fleecy and comfortable. We have one at my house that feels like you're underneath seven sheep.

8. Winter playlists. If you have a good one, feel free to send. If you want a good one, feel free to ask.

9. The color red. It's a warm and toasty color. Learn to love it during the chill. Also, I just covered a pillow in that color fabric.

10. Think up interesting activities. Lack of warm weather doesn't mean you have to sit inside and wilt into a depressing cycle of movie-watching (although this is nice occasionally) and video-game-playing. I'm compiling a list (within my list) of outdoor and indoor things to do. Please feel free to add as it's not very big (this comes from my non-winter loving persona).

  • Snowshoeing
  • Ice skating in downtown Minneapolis
  • Getting onto a blue-square hill with my snowboard
  • Going to a cabin

This is all I have for now. Off to drink southern sweet tea with Bethany and Celinda...

All my frozen and sincere love,

- L

What Is God Calling You To Do?

My degree says I should edit or teach. The ads on my Facebook page say I should go backpacking, skijoring, or winter camping.

My church here says small group.

My church back home says mission trip.

The National Geographic magazine in the bathroom says something worthwhile.

My society says I should be thin, make money, get a rockin career, get married, and have lots of friends.

I say...I haven't got a clue but I feel pretty good about that.

Amen.

Perception Sets.

We've been learning about Perception Sets in one of my classes on counseling this fall. I'd like to know what yours are. Fill out your answers (type out whatever word or few words that first pop into your head) and submit via comment. Feel free to submit anonymously too if you don't want to be all public with your set. Just let me know if you're a guy or girl. I am ______.

The world is ______.

Men are _______.

Women are _______.

God is _______.

Families have _______.

My future is ________.

Thanks much.

- Lo

HALT.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I am one of those people who needs to have at least some unplanned, unorganized time in my day. If I can have an entire evening that is unplanned, even better. Without this open time, I can very easily become irritable, stressed, or pull inward to myself in an unhealthy way. I know some people love schedules and love having every minute organized out...and they are good at it. These people have large plates. Platters in fact. Maybe the whole kitchen counter. Not me.

There is nothing that fills me more than having entire Thursday night or a whole Saturday square in my calendar that is completely white to leisurely sit in my apartment, drink coffee, read (Bible, Hind's Feet, or actually do my Lit class readings), write, bake, etc. Lately there has not been a lot of this time. Celly keeps telling me that we have to have an Africa Day. And soon (see Africa Days). I've been thinking about getting up extra early in the morning to compensate for this lack of time in the afternoons and evenings. However, this also could be an issue. Waking up prematurely and quickly has never been a strength. It is a goal of mine to become a morning person at some point in my life.

Don't get me wrong, I love being involved in ministry and church so soo much. I love school - I really do, I think my classes are so interesting and I feel very blessed to have the opportunity to be educated. More than anything, I love being with people and hearing the deepness in their hearts. But I have to check myself in all of this. Last year, we had an in-service for Res Life where Paul Bradley (one of the student deans) reminded us that there is no way to pour yourself out to others if your own cup is empty or dwindling. You have to go to the water source, first, yourself, and be filled in order to do this.

In my Counseling of Children class, my psych professor taught us the acronym H.A.L.T. She said if you are "hungry," "angry," "lonely," or "tired," you need to stop, and take time for yourself. The entire class snorted as most of us could easily admit that we were 3 out of 4 of those words at any given point during the day.

It's only been 1 month since school has started. I am feeling the pull. What do I think this means? God is calling me to some planned rest. This is hard for me to do, but I'm getting better at learning to say no. Being self aware is good, but it is pointless if you don't do anything about it. Are you feeling like you need to "halt"? And, like, now? Then do it. And be filled.

Sitting at Jesus' feet sounds so restful right now.

Hippies on the 3rd floor?

Early this morning, in my apartment, my roommate shook me awake with, "Laurennn, the fire alarm is going off for the whole building. Amy called the police, but we have to go to class, so you should probably get up." Confused, I jumped out of bed and fumbled around the room for the light. I threw on a sweatshirt, walked into the bathroom and walked back out (for no apparent reason, tired stupor), walked to the living room window, peeked out the curtains, and saw the flashing lights of the squad car and a policeman walking towards our door. At this point, my roommates left. Confused (again), since there was no apparent fire in the hallway or stairs but the alarm was still blaring, I grabbed my keys and joined the other wandering residents in the hallway. "Should we go outside?" I asked one woman.

She had a toothbrush in her hand and shrugged. "I don't know."

We ended up outside.

After standing on the grass in the grey drizzle for about seven minutes, making small talk and meeting my neighbors, a fireman came out the door, one hand on his belt, and told us it was a false alarm. "Someone burning too much incense on the third floor I think."

Apartment life never disappoints.

Needless to say, after all of that, today was one of those days where it was hard to get moving. My limbs felt clumsy, like I had logs for arms and legs. I found myself staring a lot. My throat was a little scratchy. I wandered into the school bookstore and ended up buying a package of Halls cough drops. Not only was the company selling me something I wanted, but they made my tired self feel like somebody cared. These are the phrases that were on each drop's wrapper: Don't give up on yourself. March forward! Take charge and mean it. Don't try harder, do harder. It's yours for the taking. You got it in you. Keep your chin up. Get back in there champ. A pep talk in every drop!

I applaud Halls for their expert marketing skills. On this Tuesday afternoon, I have found an ally. A cough drop that understands me. (Consumer culture at its best, right?)

It's in the little things. Hope your Tuesday was nice.

All my menthol-deficient love, Lo

Jesus-talks through Skype.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Meet Amy Wutke. Beautiful woman of God, encouragement to my faith, and absolutely hilarious. She is someone who knows my heart deeply and is one of those people I could just sit with on the couch in silence for a couple hours, and it would do nothing but deepen our friendship. The people who know her know how good she is at loving others well. She's probably embarrassed reading this right now because she's also an introvert. She's in England right now, studying abroad and getting all cultured, but despite the six-hour time difference, we are making it a priority to talk via Skype at least once a week (if not more). Last night, we talked about materialism and idols and how they're all over England (and America for that matter) in the form of clothes, labels, and looks. Sometimes when your soul has holes, it's easy to start filling them with the things that you can touch instead of clinging to truth. It's exhausting. And it makes your heart sick. By the time I get to the evening some days, stress mounting with unfinished homework, different quirks of relationships on my mind, and unanswered emails sitting in the inbox, all I want to do is pull the covers over my head and stay there forever. However, I've been learning what it looks like when "the Lord's mercies are new every morning."

People like Amy spur me on toward filling my heart with beautiful things stored up in heaven. I miss her a lot and am very much awaiting December when she flies home.

redesigning.

I am feeling transitioned. I think. I always thought I adapted to change pretty well; in fact, I prefer fresh, new things and finding different ways to go about something originally standard. Sometimes it's hard for me to understand it when people only like vanilla and sit in the same seat in class every day. But I'm not so naive (now) to think that consistency isn't important at all. It's pretty vital.

The last month has been hard and beautiful. It's been so refreshing being back at school and living in my first apartment, but there have been a lot of heavy things too. One of the changes I didn't expect was sleeping bed-less for a month. Els and I moved in with minimal furniture as beds cost money, and we didn't have money. Poor college students at their best. Thanks to sweet sweet friends who have blessed us, however, we both now (as of last night!) have beds and have found free/inexpensive dressers for our room. Beginning to feel settled.

I didn't mind being in transition at first, but then I started feeling restless and having furniture dreams. Literally. I dreamt about people moving hundreds of dressers up and down stairs throughout a wooden house, and I dreamt about moving beds across a two-mile long room in a basement. Everything was still packed up in bags and boxes in our closet because we had nowhere to store anything. Being unsettled for that long freaked me out. God very blatantly used this to reveal areas where I find security apart from Him. I was all hung up on being in the "moving-in" stage, but then I think of Jesus and His life on earth; He rarely had His own place to "lay His head"  (Matthew 8:20).

There has been some stability in my life as of late; even though I usually feel like I don't need constancy, I've realized how much I've taken my friends and the stable community they offer for granted. Just feeling blessed. These friendships are something I do look for steadiness in. I do want to be careful, though, not to make them this protected little nook in my head where all joy and safety are found. I've built it up like that, in some ways, and have wandered toward finding my identity there. God is helping me rebuild some of that right now. Different shapes.

Although I flirt with both change and consistency, I am now seeing both as necessary and good, and even more so, am looking forward to heaven someday where both of these elements will look entirely different. Right now, I desire stability in daily living, but the Lord might have other plans. At least He never changes.

Where the roots come from.

I've heard that bitterness is like drinking poison and hoping the other person will die. In the end, it really ends up hurting you more than the person you feel spite towards. And generally, a lot of the other people around you as well. Before I say anything more on this, though, I do want to vindicate that it is important to recognize that whatever has caused this resentment, or rather, what you "perceive to be the cause" of it, is probably very valid. Legitimately hurtful things do happen.

But that's not how the root of a grudge begins to grow.

The real thing that ends up affecting everything is the proximity of the offender. Mark Driscoll explains this in detail in one of his sermons from The Peasant Princess sermon series (I highly highly recommend checking out the podcast free on Itunes...the sermon is "My Dove"). He explains that it's not about whether or not if what happened to you is a big deal. It's about whether or not the person who did it is deeply loved by you. A total stranger could break into your home and steal all of your stuff, and you'd be very frustrated, but not bitter because it's not personal. Bitterness stems from the idea that this person whom you love and trust has betrayed you. And this does great, deep, profound damage. But so does an unforgiving heart.

Hebrews 12:15 says, "See to it...that no bitter root grows up to cause trouble and defile many." The Lord knows how these bullets ends up affecting many people, and usually, more than one person ends up getting shot in the crossfire because of it. He also commands in Ephesians 4:31-32  to "Get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice. Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you." The forgiveness of a sinner is not contingent upon their repentance. It's contingent on Jesus' character. No one has been sinned against more than the Lord...but He has not gone to malice. He is a God of forgiveness. When we practice forgiveness, we are showing something of the Lord's love to others. Just as He has shown it to us.

Doesn't mean that any of this is easy. I am in the midst of sorting all this out myself - forgiveness has been confusing to me in the past, but I think the Lord is starting to help me understand it more. He is being so faithful. Here are some lists that really helped me identify the station of my heart and where to go from there. Hopefully it will help you too if you are questioning what forgiveness looks like in your life.

Clues that you are harboring bitterness:

1. Do you continually replay a past hurt over and over? Does that one moment when the hurt happened cycle over itself again and again in your mind?

2. Is there someone you try to avoid? Their calls...seeing them?

3. Is there someone you quickly go to anger with? They always get the short fuse from you?

4. Is there someone you verbally malign? Do you talk trash about them or speak ill of them?

Here's what forgiveness is not:

1. It is not approving of the sin. In fact it's validating that it is so bad that Jesus had to die for it.

2. It is not excusing. "Oh, that's your personality." It's not about repenting of your first-bornness or your Irishness or your extravertedness, etc.

3. It's not denying it. "Oh you didn't sin against me...it's okay..." etc.

4. It's not overlooking it. "Oh I'll just choose to look the other way," etc.

5. It's not forgetting. Jesus doesn't come with a side of amnesia. You still remember things. But you choose to not hold it against them.

6. It's not diminishing.

7. It's not pretending. There needs to be real-life forgiveness.

Here is what forgiveness is:

1. Loving in spite of what they've said and done. Because that's how God loves us.

2. It's choosing not to punish.

3. It's choosing not to keep a record of wrongs. It's not keeping every sin ever committed against you in a pile like rocks and every time you feel like picking one up and throwing it you feel free. Not forgiveness.

4. It's choosing to give mercy.

5. It is often a reoccurring event. You don't just forgive someone and move on always. Sometimes the hurt keeps coming back. Sometimes you have to get up each morning and start the day with forgiveness. I forgive you, I forgive you, it hurts like crazy, but I forgive you.

6. It can be reconciliation, but not always. Just because they've sinned against you doesn't mean you automatically need to take them back. Especially if it's a dangerous situation. There needs to be some fruit in keeping with repentence...not just worldly sorrow.

7. It can help trust come into the picture again. But it is not an immediate restoration of full trust. Trust takes time. And a lot of it sometimes.

I feel like my heart is growing something little and new and green right now. But it's just a baby plant. I don't think I've been in this place for a very long time. I've been praying awhile for this, and He is now granting it! I know that it is no merit of my own that has brought me here, but His grace alone. Not that I am doing this perfectly, but I have an ounce of this little thing within my spirit that belongs to Him. Thank you Father.

Lo

The Art of Manliness

Doesn't get much better than this.

With articles like How to Throw a Tomahawk Like a Mountain Man, A Manly Handshake: An Illustrated Guide, How to Jump from Rooftop to Rooftop, Hero Training: The Lift an Object Off Someone in Distress Workout, How to Tie a Tie, Boxing Basics Part I, How to Shave Like Your Grandpa, and How to Perform the Heimlich Maneuver in 6 Different Situations let's be honest, you really can't go wrong with this blog.

Gender stereotyping at its best - check it out!

The Art of Manliness

Do you get it?

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j0HfwkArpvU&w=560&h=345] Also, tonight, it's safe to say that my thoughts are like a washing machine in my head right now. Good thing I have a blog.

Song of Solomon 8:6,7

I will set You as a seal upon my heart, as a seal upon my arm. For there is love that is as strong as death, jealousy demanding as the grave. Many waters cannot quench this love.

Peanuts and Coffee

...that's what you eat when you have just moved into your apartment, and you have no food.

heart.

Keep your heart with all vigilance, for from it flow the springs of life. Proverbs 4:23 keep |kēp|

verb ( past kept |kept|) [ trans. ] 1 have or retain possession of 2 continue or cause to continue in a specified condition, position, course, etc. 3 provide for the sustenance of (someone) 4 honor or fulfill (a commitment or undertaking) 5 make written entries in (a diary) on a regular basis

noun 2 archaic charge; control 3 the strongest or central tower of a castle, acting as a final refuge.

I think it is easy to forget to keep your heart.

When I was reading this verse in Proverbs the other night, I had to stop and think about why the author (namely, the Lord) was referring so much to the heart in general. And then I started noticing the word even more all over the Bible. It seems important.

I remember being in Jr. High at youth group when I was younger, sitting with all my other little seventh-grade girlfriends, and listening to a speaker imploring us over and over again to "guard your heart." We, thinking this was all incredibly romantic, would nod with our mouths half open and swear to only let our heart belong to Jesus for the rest of our lives. Not only was this a slightly twisted comprehension of what the speaker was trying to get across, but I think this whole attitude of ambivalence on one's heart posture has spilled over into the lives of many Christians today.

If you look at the definitions of the word "keep," you can see the intensity in which Solomon urges the reader to protect/keep/be aware/vigilant of his or her heart. Even the last explanation of keep as a noun, "the strongest or central tower of a castle, acting as a final refuge," shows how deep this should go. Now, I'm not just talking about "guarding your heart" in the realm of relationships/boys/romance/etc. (although it applies there too). I'm hashing out what the posture of a heart looks like on a day-to-day basis.

I picture myself, most days, like a balloon with a string unattached to anything. I just float around, sometimes bumping into walls, sometimes getting whisked upward in a great rush of air high into the sky, and sometimes losing all my helium and just floating down, an inch or two from the ground. Mindless. I'll just blow around wherever the wind takes me. There are so many of these times where I just live live live like a blob and don't tie myself down to a firm foundation. I don't keep the phone continually off the hook with the Lord (to quote the pastor at HopeCC, "Do you guys even know what that is anymore...like a phone and a hook? Back in the olden days, before cell phones, there was this cord that attached the phone to the receiver, and you had to hang-it-up when you were done").

I've found that the days where I have fear or am worrying about something continually are the days when I haven't checked in with God at all and have just let my heart fly around and do it's own thing all day. There is no vigilance. This very quickly leads to the believing of lies instead of living out of truth and the Lord's freedom.

Hopefully this all makes sense - I am sort of thought-dumping right now. This has officially become a ramble.

So. Hearts are crucial things. That's why they're talked about so much in the Bible. I am still working out in my head how the heart and mind and soul all converge into one (I will ask one day when I get to heaven, along with why we have toenails and other things). For now, I'm drawing things on my wrist to remind me about all of this because I forget things easily.

These bits of wisdom from Proverbs are getting craaazy deep.

Beginnings.

The busyness has started. But I am making a conscious decision to refuse to let it get to me. I've been back at home this summer, and here is something nice that just happened: Elsie moved in with me and my family! (But we only have three weeks left here - sad to leave family/excited for new apartment in Minneapolis). Since Student Development training started this week, I got to spend some qual time at Ndubs today with Kirsten and some other friends. It was just so good to be there and be with people all day.

All of this to say, I am excited/ready to be in community again. I learned a lot this summer. It was hard. Praise God.

Lauren

Washington state, etc.

Well, I've only been here officially for two days, but this is what I've noticed so far. People here are different. Observations:

1. Everything (i.e. everyone) is calmer here. No one seems to be in a terrible rush, and everyone is a bit quieter. When we came out of the Baskin Robbins in Olympia last night, I felt like my family had been yelling (even though we weren't). Isn't this how it is in England?

2. Everyone here is SO nice. Maybe it's just the places we've been to on the west coast so far, but I feel like any of the people I met on any given day, I could have easily hung out with that same night. They are that inviting.

3. The green movement must have started in this state. Two days here, and I've already heard about the politics (both sides), the timber that is being cut down, and have been bombarded with various green/Mother Earth products in various gift shops at every location we've stopped at.

4. Snoqualmie (via I 90) is the MOST epic place I have ever driven through in my entire life. Is there a grad school here?

5. Any foliage is double the size it is in Minnesota. There are vines and ferns everywhere, even in the urban parts. The millions of pine trees are 10x bigger and thicker.

6. 60% of the people here are in their 20's. At least from what I've seen.

7. You might think that everyone in the Seattle area is a drifter, about to go rock climbing, or a hitchhiker. That's just how they dress here.

8. Most of the news on TV is about things like logging trucks and rivers. Tonight we saw a headline about three people who fell over a waterfall?

9. They don't blast their air conditioning inside here. It's always a comfortable temperature whether it's ShopKo, a nice restaurant, or a gas station.

10. No bugs! No mosquitoes, no flies, nothing. We can leave the sliding door wide open, and it doesn't make a difference.

11. Amazing mountain views from every parking lot? Yes.

12. If I wanted to officially belong in the Seattle area, I'd probably have to get a tattoo. It seems to be required.

13. Best place to live in the country? (Mild winters, mild summers, seaside, mountain ranges everywhere, all the hiking/canoeing/etc. you could ever want, urban/rural life comfortably near each other, coffee all over the place). Could be.

Also, something completely off topic, but I've been thinking a lot about my friendships during this trip. This little blurb here is an excerpt from C.S. Lewis' The Four Loves via The Prodigal God by Timothy Keller. I love how Lewis/Keller shed light on this particular aspect of friendship. Makes me miss and appreciate my friends back home all the more and understand more fully what it is to have kinship with the Lord:

"C.S. Lewis was part of a famous circle of friends called the Inklings, which included J.R.R. Tolkien, the author of The Lord of the Rings, and also the author Charles Williams, who died unexpectedly after World War II. In his book, The Four Loves, Lewis wrote a striking meditation on his death in an essay entitled "Friendship":

'In each of my friends there is something that only some other friend can fully bring out. By myself I am not large enough to call the whole man into activity; I want other lights than my own to show all his facets. Now that Charles [Williams] is dead, I shall never again see Ronald's [Tolkien's] reactions to a specifically Charles joke. Far from having more of Ronald, having him "to myself" now that Charles is away, I have less of Ronald...In this, Friendship exhibits a glorious "nearness by resemblance" to heaven itself where the very multitude of the blessed (which no man can number) increases the fruition which each of us has of God. For every soul, seeing him in her own way, doubtless communicates that unique vision to all the rest. That, says an old author, is why the Seraphim in Isaiah's vision are crying "Holy, Holy, Holy" to one another (Isaiah 6:3). The more we thus share the Heavenly Bread between us, the more we shall have.'"

How I knew spring came each year.

Growing up, I could always tell when spring had arrived. And it wasn't because of the leaves on the trees or anything like that. I was picked up and dropped off at the same bus stop for most of my childhood, about nine years of it. I remember when the sunrise first became something to be liked. I was probably twelve, standing at the bus stop at 6:30am by the steel street-sign pole, and I remember thinking that it was romantic to watch a sunrise. Then two yellow buses rumbled by and the moment was over. These first ones were not to be boarded because one was for the public school and the other was a shorter bus used to pick up children who had disabilities and could not board the other type of bus. I was supposed to wait for the private school bus.

This was also the corner where we had lemonade stands as kids. We went all out, making big signs and providing Kool-aid and lemonade along with the occasional batch of cookies. It was served in Dixie cups of course. The neighbors were always very generous, and we made out with eleven dollars once. This also happened when we sold dandelions door-to-door. Now, when I see kids down at the corner, I always try and buy some lemonade. Support the cause. Part of growing up I think.

Some mornings, after spending too long fishing the raisins around in my oatmeal while watching Arthur, I was late for the bus. I ended up running down the street, my wet hair sticking to my cheek and my lunchbox flailing from my side, in order to make the bus on time. Some years the bus driver was grumpy and scolded me thoroughly, and some years he or she was nice and patiently nodded when I apologized.

It was in the afternoon when I could actually tell that the springs had come. Walking heel-to-toe, or singing (I sang a lot), I mostly concentrated on how I was about to get out of my plaid jumper/skirt/etc. (we wore uniforms) and the snack that awaited me inside as I walked the three hundred feet to my house. Each and every spring (before spring had arrived officially), without fail, there was always a smattering of Styrofoam peanuts piled along the part of the street that curved toward our house. And this was how I knew. Spring had officially come once the peanuts were there. Looking back on it now, I wonder if one of the neighbors simply received something annually in the mail and was just careless with their unpacking.

One year, when I was a bit older and more suspicious of strange things that I had believed in as a child, spring came late. It was mid-April before it stopped snowing, and I figured that there couldn't possibly be any Styrofoam peanuts to announce that spring had arrived by that point. But one afternoon, as I rounded the bend, there they were, lying in their terrific state, and all the magic came back. I still wonder how they were there, even so late in the month. The peanuts were always comforting to me. I remember thinking each year, "It's the peanuts. I knew they'd be here. Spring is coming!" It was always a hopeful time.

Sometimes I still look for them, if I happen to be home from college in late March or early April. I think I've missed them the last several years. But I've been going on walks more lately. So Spring Peanuts 2012, I plan on you. Then I will know it is spring for real.