Tradition

I'm writing to you from a car in the middle of 35 in southern Minnesota. We're passing field after field, the afternoon sun dropping lower in the sky, and everything's a hazy grey-brown color today. The trees haven't budded yet, and they stand tall and dead, cracking their branches against the sky. Water towers, fences, cows, a few small towns and soon we're stopping for dinner.

We are on the way back from spending this Easter weekend with friends and family. After eating a beautiful spread of dinner on Saturday, communing over hot coffee and cinnamon rolls this morning, and spending some talk time together with the breeze blowing lightly in through the window, we are headed home. There's nothing I love more than being with people simply to be in each other's company.

The last couple Easters, I've had a lot of questions. I've wondered about how our culture presents Easter--both within Christianity and outside of it. I've thought a lot about the phrase, He is risen indeed! And I've thought a lot about the supernatural depth of Christ's death and resurrection.

If I'm honest, there's a lot about how our culture approaches holidays like this that annoys me. I can get pretty cynical in a church service, and I can get pretty caught up in analyzing the traditions that seem pointless or for show. This however, in reality, does nothing for me in understanding or remembering the depth of what Jesus has done. It also does nothing in helping me cultivate gracious thinking. When I get wary and skeptical about evangelical culture, traditions, or actions, I try and remember that just because these things seem overly familiar or overused to me, they're not bad.

It all makes me think of a blog post I read a few months back by Rachel Held Evans called Vulnerability and Christianese. She discusses tradition and speech in Christianity and points out how the beautiful, insightful language that is found in churches across America isn't all counterfeit. She points out, however, that it "becomes unhelpful the moment we use it to protect ourselves from being honest with one another, the moment we use it to escape vulnerability." I'd encourage you to read the post to understand the full spectrum of what she's saying.

Common customs of language and action can quickly lose their depth if they simply become routine. But at the same time, I don't think it's okay to be legalistic about tradition and assume that you have to feel something crazy deep every time you light that candle or shake hands with those church members welcoming you at the front door of the church. The point of tradition is to observe, to remember. Tradition is part of what makes different cultures unique, and in regards to the Lord, it can be what helps us recollect God's promises and keep them in mind. Often, these traditions happen in a communal setting where you can remember together. There's something really holy and glorious about that kind of togetherness.

If you struggle with church conventions or get caught up in the little things that Christian circles seem to say or do, some other great questions to ask yourself are If this was a tradition I had never experienced before--from another culture or country--would I be more alert and in tune with it? Am I simply looking for something negative to latch on to or am I letting the posture of my soul sit grace-filled and open, ready to receive what God might want to teach me during this sermon? Am I focused on judging others and what they do and say, or am I focused on loving people like Jesus did? 

I like that knowing God has never been something that was supposed to be safe and neatly wrapped up with a pretty ribbon. I like the roughness, the profundity, and the vulnerability that is required for us to truly know Jesus and truly know other people and the depth inside of them. I like that Jesus himself observed tradition, and that since we are made in His image, we too can appreciate how sacred and distinctive these customs can be.

What are your thoughts on tradition?

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U7lLfYBGRaA&w=480&h=360]

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Photo by CyArk, Cathedral of Beauvais

Two Months

I've caught this coffee shop right at its close. The barista is leisurely, but thoroughly, pushing a mop around the tile. He wears a blue sweatshirt and takes his time. The other barista's keys are jingling as she moves hurriedly, wiping counters, pushing milk into fridges, and runs water into a big sink. She pauses to text someone. It's cold tonight, much to everyone's chagrin. I see dead leaves, leftover from last fall skitter down the sidewalk. I wore a winter scarf despite it being April as I walked from my apartment to this coffee shop.

I watch cars drive by in the chilly spring air and the sky soften from grey to brilliant pink in the west to dark night. People walk by on the sidewalk with their hoods up, and I feel toasty on the other side of the glass with my cinnamon tea. The street lights just flickered and then buzzed on to their full orange flare.

Now that I'm one fourth of the way into 2014, I can confidently say that this has been a season of waiting. For a lot of things. It's frustrating at times not to know what's next and to be so simultaneously ready for something to happen. To move. Just an inch. Being patient and waiting on the Lord is really hard sometimes. I know I'm being vague here, but if there's anyone else out there who's waiting...for ANYTHING...you're not alone. Let me know if you're waiting too and I'll buy you a cup of coffee somewhere and we can commiserate about it.

Other things to catch you up on? Well, meet my small group.

They're pretty great.

This photo was taken when we went up and spent a weekend at a cabin in Wisconsin. We four-wheeled, made pancakes, played games, watched movies, studied Titus, took naps, and went on hikes. The thing we all have in common is Hope Community Church in Minneapolis. I'd recommend it if you're looking for a place to settle.

On another note, this is the book we're reading for book club this next month.

It's a memoir by a woman who describes her 1,100-mile hike on the Pacific Crest Trail in a journey of self-discovery. I read the first page once during breakfast when my roommate had left the book on the kitchen table a few months back. It begins with the main character watching in horror as one of her hiking boots tumbles over a cliff. Needless to say, I was hooked from sentence number one, so I'm excited for this book to arrive in the mail so I can read the rest.

Other things in my life as of late...

One of my best friends, Elsie, got married! She is now a Rymer, and we are all very happy about that.

It's at least 40 degrees out every day now. This means...running!

Here is a website you should check out. Because who doesn't want tacos delivered to their door? Also, the Q & A is funny.

Sometimes our internet stops working and we don't know why. We're tired of calling Century Link and waiting on the phone for an hour.

I bought a 17-piece Magic Bullet set from one company, received it last week, and then a completely different company that I did not buy a Magic Bullet set from sent me another one in the mail free of charge. It was confusing.

Well, one of the baristas is now gathering several trash bags into a heap by the door and people are packing their backpacks and bags up, so I think that's my cue. I know the walk back home will be even colder now that it's dark and windy out, but I have a warm apartment and a piece of toast waiting for me, so all is well. Spring we're ready for you, whenever you decide to come.

Have a good sleep! L

Photo by vignettedesign.net

Charm

Here's what I've done so far today. Well first I will give you the facts that it is President's Day, and some of us who work in schools have today off, it's blizzarding outside, and one of my closest friends is getting married five days. Also, I have a quilt over my lap---the one my mother, grandmother, and I made together---and there is a half-empty cup of Starbucks sitting on the bedside table.

Today, I woke up at the late and glorious hour of 10:00am. I am told that once I am older, I will wake up at hours such as 4:00am and 5:00am simply because of my age. (Does that really happen? This makes me sad.) After I got up, I tried to get a shipping label to load on my computer for 20 minutes. That didn't work. I got ready for the day, put on my coat, wool scarf, knit hat, mittens, socks and winter boots, grabbed my package to mail and shuffled out into the blizzard. Despite the frightful weather, my neighbors seemed cheerful shoveling driveways or walking their pups.

There's one woman in my apartment who walks her dog, in the winter, everyday at 7:30am. I know this because we always run into each other when she's rounding the corner and I'm about to climb in my car to go to work. Her dog is medium-sized with a teddy bear face and curly-hair. His tail wags so hard that his entire behind wobbles, and of course, he's always happy to see everyone. There's also a cat that belongs to someone in our apartment building, and often, it escapes out into the stairwell. We'll open our door to run errands or grab something forgotten out of our cars and jump a little because there's a grey cat sitting on our welcome mat, staring curiously. Sometimes she'll meow until we open the door.

This morning, I wiped all the snow off my car, got in, and drove myself several hundred feet down the road to the UPS store where I promptly mailed my package. Then I walked to Starbucks, got a coffee and an egg and sausage sandwich, and perused my phone for information on pricing for nearby gyms. The street outside the coffee shop is always charming in the winter, and it was only the twenty-minute parking sign that got me to grab all my gear and head back home.

Here are some fun links for those of you who have President's Day off today and are huddled in your woolies inside:

Are you right-brained or left-brained? Take the test!

One of my favorite hair products. One bottle has literally lasted me years.

I am reading this book and this book and this book right now.

The best ice cream in the whole world. And they just started carrying it at Kowalski's.

All you ladies out there should take this quiz and order the free, at-home try on.

This is my church! If you're in the Twin Cities area and looking for one, you should try it out. I love these people.

One of my favorite oil paintings from the 1800's. Created to illustrate lines from Tennyson's famous poem.

These salted chocolate-dipped mandarin slices look like a fun thing to make.

A fun personality test by PeopleKeys.

Look at this cool resume. I think all resumes should be as interesting as this.

A blog post I wrote for Rasmussen College's School of Design.

I'm looking for a taller bookshelf. I thought about making this.

Check out this photographer. Watch for some her images featured on my blog soon!

Trying to use this timeline as a I research grad school.

A mini documentary series on the New York City Ballet. I ended up watching them all straight through.

Painting by James Pollard, "Royal Mail Coach in Snow" 

Cold?

If you live in Minnesota, you're probably getting ready to hibernate. You might be in your long johns, under a quilt, eating soup, drinking apple cider or whiskey, and preparing to get hunkered down indoors for the day. At least, that's what I'm planning on doing. I'm just kidding, I wish I had long johns. But the hibernating part will actually happen. I'm sitting on the couch in our living room, and I can hear ice chips hitting the window. The wind shakes things occasionally, and this old apartment building shudders in the gusts every now and then. We have leaky windows, and a draft of cold air floats in every so often. To watch movies, we usually sit with two or three blankets on top of us since the couch is right under the old window panes.

This year feels new, as it does, every year. White and cold, grey to some degree, and clung to by the oldness of 2013 in some respects. Leftover Christmas cookies and candies lay scattered around our kitchen, in decorative plastic bags and in the cupboard. I found a gift receipt I meant to include with someone's present yesterday. Everything is on sale at the stores.

I try to embrace the new year just as I do birthdays. I almost logically decide to feel one year older every March 22, and I try to imagine the new year wiped clean in the same way. It's nice to have subtle reminders and built-in analogies of what grace looks like in this way.

Over the past weeks, somewhat coincidentally, I've come across and read several stories set in the scene of a New Year's party. Sometimes, the protagonist is looking for love, but mostly he or she is feeling displaced, lonely, or hopeless among the throbbing of music and clinking cocktails. This seems to be a common thread woven throughout the holidays. If you're still finishing up that leftover champagne and thinking about how poorly your Christmas parties, family gatherings, and New Year's extravaganzas went, you're not alone.

One thing that's comforting to me in moments like these is to remember what I'm placing my identity in. If you measure your worth based off of how unique and interesting your Christmas gifts are, how many holiday parties you're invited to, if you have someone to kiss at midnight, or how socially adept you are at gatherings, then you're probably done for. It won't take long to dissolve into a lonely, muddied puddle of inadequacy if you're constantly comparing and critiquing yourself. Maybe it's not the above examples that cause you to strive, but think about if it all was stripped away--would anything be left? Or would you feel empty, black, and endless?

John 16:33 says, "Peace I leave with you; My peace I give to you; not as the world gives, do I give to you. Let not your heart be troubled, nor let it be fearful."

It's different, you see. This kind of peace and dependency isn't like anything else. It affects your heart in a completely different way than worldly peace ever could. I find the whole idea incredibly curious and simultaneously satisfying.

So wherever you are, sitting on your couch under cold windows like me, lying in your bed watching Netflix endlessly, scrolling through social media until your eyes burn, or sick and blowing your nose into a Kleenex (I know this is a good chunk of my friends right now), try and just let it all go. If you can, stop your whirring mind from trying to make it all work so perfectly. If you can't, that's okay. Pray about it a little and ask for help.

As I'm sitting here typing, I occasionally hear the gravelly sound of a car driving by outside or the quiet rumbling of a plane overhead. I just checked my phone to verify that yes, it is -27 degrees out, and yes, it does feel like -47. It's late. I'm yawning a lot now, and I think, as Frances Ha would say, "It's bedtime for all good children."

Stay warm, L

Photo by Bread & Olives

The Deep Freeze

Good snowy evening. After peeling my hands off the steering wheel this afternoon and taking some Tylenol to ease the ache in the back of my eyes that came from staring at the icy freeway for forty minutes straight, I can confidently tell you that we were snowed in the rest of the night, and I did not have the slightest desire to go back outside. I hear the wind chill is supposed to be -20 degrees tomorrow. -20! Will our faces crack off if we walk outside?

On another note, Celly and I started trading poems again tonight for the first time in months. It feels really good. Now that it gets dark earlier and the roads are bad, there seems to be more time to read and write, but if I'm honest right now, this post is mostly just something to keep me awake until ten so I don't go to bed too early. (How full-time job, pre-Monday is that?) In case you're wondering, I also have a fairly deep paper cut on my left ring finger from pushing the trash further into the trash yesterday. We can take this as an omen that the garbage simply needed to be taken out long ago and dumped where it belongs.

It's getting down to the wire with Christmas shopping now, but I think I have things mostly lined up. Presents are something I really enjoy doing for friends and family. I like hunting down gifts that fit a person like a glove--something I think my mother handed down to me. I haven't felt like this until the last few years, and I don't claim to be an expert, but I'm feeling confident that I've got some excellent finds up my sleeve.

By the way, if you're scared of the frigid temperatures tomorrow, just remember, we're all in this with you. I'll have four layers, a hefty scarf, and my large, clomping boots on as I glide on in to work in the AM. I'm getting good at the turn-then-slide rounding corners on these city streets. The roads here are literally several slabs thick with ice and then covered with a sheen of snow---which is made apparent by the car crashes on the Lexington bridge each week since it's turned winter. 

Anyways, take heart, at least there's Starbucks and space heaters. I know that's what I'm looking forward to tomorrow.

Photo by 25.media.tumblr.com

List Day

What a week. Thank goodness for Saturdays. It's cold and rainy out, but tonight a group of us are getting together for chili and games, which sounds like the perfect antidote. Wishing you a happy weekend from St. Regis!

I love how Google incorporates art into our everyday searches now. Check out all the past doodles here.

Big online shopper? This app pulls all your purchases from your emails and keeps track of where your shipped packages are at.

Girls who are confident and happy with their bodies.

My new favorite candy bar by Chuao Chocolatier. It's a struggle not to eat the entire thing in one sitting, but given the fact that it's over 400 calories for one bar, I try to abstain.

Are you a creative? You should make an account at Creative Mornings and attend a breakfast in your city.

A beautiful, beautiful book.

I made this last night out of wrapping paper rolls.

House smelling weird? Try this.

If you live in the Twin Cities area, one of my favorite things to get for lunch is a multigrain panini at Kowalski's Market. Just head over to the Deli Department, and they will heat up and wrap one of seven or eight different types of sandwiches for you. (Kowalski's is also where you can pick up a Chuao chocolate bar, so you might as well make one round trip.)

Not enjoying this dry winter air? Here's a $34 cap that turns any water bottle into a humidifier.

So excited for this movie that comes out March 2014.

The ultimate inventory of female packing lists for just about every country in any season for any situation.

This app makes my New Tab page on Chrome beautiful and inspirational. Also, I can see my To Do list.

My favorite coffee blend. I usually only drink Starbucks, but this stuff is great. It only comes out once a year, so be sure to stock up!

Photo by swim for brighter days despite the absence of the sun

We Trade

I'm continually grateful that people are so vastly different from each other. One thing I've been finding comfort in: everyone does NOT think the same way that I do. For example, maybe you feel embarrassed tripping on stage because you always feel embarrassed and awkward for others when they trip on stage. Maybe you feel you have to buy extravagant gifts for friends and family because that is what you, in fact, expect from others. Or maybe you don't press into a hard or difficult topic with a friend because you think you'll make it worse or they won't want to talk about it, when actually, you're the one who doesn't want to talk about it.

Thankfully, everyone does not think the same way that you do. I've found that when there's a certain way I think or feel negatively about a situation with another person, it often isn't a reality for him or her. I've found people in all sorts of different places who have effortlessly replaced shame in their own lives and in others' with grace, fear with joy and perseverance, or tension and worry with peace simply because that's how they were created. Looks like God knew what he was doing when he placed a wide variance of gifts and weaknesses in all of us and then set us loose to do life together and help each other in whatever ways we can. We each have bits of light inside, in a different way for each person, that can touch a dark part inside of another. We trade light back and forth. It's really a beautiful set up.

Photo by memiliac

At Least There Are Lights

Today has been a slow, get-things-done kind of day. I went through and organized an entire junk drawer, bagged up some clothes to bring to the Goodwill, took the recycling out, did the dishes, tidied up the dining room and kitchen, rearranged the bathroom cupboard, went to Target, bought Draino, and dumped it down the shower drain. Then as a reward to myself, I lit all the candles we own and ate Ben and Jerry's ice cream while listening to Christmas music.

I don't think I'm alone in feeling as gray as it looks outside today. A couple people I've talked to recently have admitted to feeling depressed with the weather. I normally don't suffer from Seasonal Affective Disorder, but it probably wouldn't hurt to pull out the multivitamins and keep up with the exercising.

As I drove back from Target today, though, Garrison Keillor was going on about Lake Wobegon and cabins and pie baking. A few of the mansions on Summit Ave. were having Christmas lights professionally arranged on the pine trees and bushes in their yards. I turned on our one string of globe lights on the porch to join in the fun. Thanksgiving and Christmas do make everything better in the winter.

Well, I wish I had more for you, but I'm headed out to shop for hot dogs, marshmallows, and other treats to roast over the bonfire we're having at Drew's place tonight.

If you're feeling grey about the weather, try doing something and don't just melt into a puddle on your couch.

Photo by The Obsessive Imagist

In the Spirit of JO

Happy November! In the spirit of A CUP OF JO, which is a fantastic blog, I've compiled a few fun links for you from around the Internet, just like she often does. Have a good time clicking about!

A jellybean short that is not really about jellybeans.

This is from JO, but I agree with her, this map of realtime births and deaths is really moving.

You should probably know how to escape zip ties.

A great site for you to make art out of your Instagrams.

If you like fashion and lazy shopping, try this online personal styling service.

A magazine I wrote for! (This was my article.)

Who doesn't want to make a cardboard Christmas tree?

I've had my eye on the brown and black version of this Amelie dress from Boden for a while now. Come on sale, sale, sale...

State penalties for texting and driving. Good thing I don't live in Alaska.

This TV show has got me hooked. I'm glad it's on only once a week.

This is what we are reading for our book club this month.

I won't link it here (you'll have to ask me via message or in person because it's that classified), but I have the secret to the best cure for your struggle with dry, cracked lips this fall and winter.

My friend, Joshua Lancette, is a writer and has a blog. You should check it out.

Some tips for saving money at Target.

The best gluten-free paleo raw mint chocolate tartlets. I'm not even gluten-free, and I love them. And so easy to make! Props to Amy Wutke for finding that one.

Photo: Forever Wondering

All My Plants Are Dead

As soon as I walk out on the porch, I know that we've killed all the plants. I've always wished to be a green thumb. When we moved to our apartment in St. Paul, it seemed that the porches on the front of the old buildings were meant to have blooms and ferns pressing against the screens or trailing out over the porch railings. I still think that--it's a shame to let a good porch go to waste and leave it bare.

I stand there with my glass of water and survey the scene: the shriveled pepper plants in their three identical white pots. The yellowed and wilting vine, hanging limply over the brick wall and almost touching the floor. The browning, crispy tips of the wildflowers.

I tip the glass up, the water gone, and an ice cube drops into my mouth. I know it's bad to chew ice, but I let it click around my teeth anyways. I sit down on the rocking bench with my notebook amid the plant graveyard. The air is pocketed with cold---the kind where you bring a quilt out with you and then keep taking it on and off as you try to decide if you're too cold or too hot. The sharp breeze tinkles the wind chime with the bird on it and the black lab across the street barks once from behind his fence. I am praying now, feeling reverent and sad and hopeful because I haven't communed with God in a while and it's left me feeling empty and crusted over. Hollow. A well too deep for my own good.

The sun is setting slowly, and I can still feel the remains of summer in the light. A slow blueing over of the streets as dusk sweeps in. People walk by on the sidewalk with their backpacks or dogs or holding the hands of little children. I keep praying and thinking about how to connect, how to talk with the Lord. Is this even worth it? 

I go inside, fill up my water glass, and in one last attempt, I water all the dead plants. 

A few days later, on a Saturday, I'm back on the porch. With my notebook, again. This time I'm in a hurry, about to head out and meet someone for coffee, and it's rush hour, which is the worst around the city. I'm trying to write a lot and read some too, but I feel like I'm failing and nothing is coming out right and I have to go in ten minutes and I still have to grab a quick dinner and it's definitely cold outside now and I might as well just stop because there's not enough time for this anyways.

But in the midst of my thoughts, which are dashing around, and the dwindling time, which is slowly closing in, the plant in the corner on the brick ledge catches my eye. I had forgotten about it. I forgot about how this plant, specifically, thrives in the worst conditions. It's survived four college students and an apartment full of studying, parties, and get-togethers. It's survived weeks without water. It's survived several winters---indoors of course. No matter how far gone, no matter how wilted and crisping at the edges, if I give this plant a bit of water, it comes back. It really does. Even if I think it's completely dead, every time, the vine comes back.

In that split second, I know the Lord is telling me that this is how my soul is. No matter how far I feel separated from Him, no matter how long it has been, no matter how hopeless or sinful I feel, it is always only a matter of dwelling with him, even if for a short while, and I'm brought back in full. Just as I watered the plant with only a small cup of water, sometimes all we need are the plain and unadorned truths that God has for us.

I often find myself expecting that all the interactions I have with people, experiences, and God have to be extremely meaningful, deep, or life-changing. I don't think life is actually like that all the time. Sometimes you just have a conversation with someone, and it doesn't mean anything. Sometimes you pray and read the Bible, and you only get something small---just what you need for the day, or you're merely reminded of what you forgot. Sometimes you go for a walk just to clear your mind and you don't discover anything profound about yourself.

In all areas of life, cut yourself some slack, and remember that you're never in a place that is too hopeless. God is at the ready---swift and willing to pour vitality into you and affect the parts your life that He wants to shift.

Photo credit: Cayla Morningstar

Is TV Interfering with Your...Life?

I never noticed television affecting me until this year.

Like many people, I do love a good TV series---it's like a movie that never ends! I've never been much of a television junkie, but every now and then I happen upon a series that I love and get hooked. I held off on getting a Netflix account for years, but once I finished the free-month subscription back in July, I thought, What's the harm in a few months more? And for only $8.00 a month? Worth it! Many evenings, it became my calm-down method...my time to veg. This was fine until I found myself getting drawn in to the storyline of episode after episode instead of capping it and getting stuff done that needed to happen. Throughout college, and now, post-college, I've watched many of my friends go through this too---shows and shows and shows of Friends, Arrested Development, and all the rest.

With Breaking Bad on the rise, New Girl breezing into its third season, and all the talk about Game of Thrones, I can't help but think about the hours and hours of time that I and many others have spent parked on the couch in front of the TV or lying in bed with the iPad. Now, don't get me wrong, I really enjoy my shows, and I have nothing against a night in with a glass of wine and a marathon of my favorite program. They are also a welcome distraction when I have to do something boring like fold laundry, clean the kitchen, etc.

I'd say, it's more so something people need to start being really aware of. If you start feeling like you have a ball and chain around your ankle and that your first and only option when you get home from work or class is to lie down and watch TV, there might be something going on there. If you start to feel like you have a film over your mind or things feel cloudy or dull, consider not watching NCIS tonight. Make sure you're balanced. I just don't want to go out with Susie and Joe tonight. I'd rather stay in and watch How I Met Your Mother. Yeah ok, that's absolutely valid sometimes. But if television is taking the place of people, exercise, your favorite hobbies, time with God, or whatever else in life, take a break. There's always Hulu and Netflix---you can watch episodes at any point from anywhere these days!

I don't think anyone needs to give up TV entirely (well, unless you feel convicted to)---it's a creative expression of life that has the power to rest us, positively or negatively impact us, give us ideas, and bring joy. But if it becomes all-consuming, if it's affecting you negatively and starts to steadily become your reality, it can start to take the shade of addiction and can really interfere with your daily life.

So what I'm saying is...have boundaries. Watch a little, but then go outside. Run with your dog. Write poems in the woods. Grab that drink with your friend. Play basketball or redecorate your room. Cook a big, beautiful, complicated dinner. Actually take the nap instead of getting sucked in to Episode 32 of Criminal Minds.

Doesn't that sound fresh and wonderful? There's a whole life to live that doesn't exist within a screen, and sometimes you just have to go out and get it. Yeah, it takes effort. But I promise you, it will be worth it in the long run.

Photo by: 24.Media.Tumblr

Who Isn't Busy These Days?

I've found that it's often very hard for me to go through a day without feeling like I've accomplished something. And it can't be something "everyday-like" that I accomplish---it always has to be something from a lingering to-do list or at least a "medium-level" accomplishment. I have to finish freelance writing or hang all the pictures in my room or go grocery shopping as well as run all my other errands. Maybe it's the Activator in me, but it's easy to feel empty or anxious or wasteful if I'm not out "doing" all the time. I don't think this is how Jesus called people to live. I think He wants us to live with excellence and move forward in life, but I don't think He meant for weekends or evenings to feel so full all the time. I don't think He meant for us to constantly be looking at post-it note lists and never feeling accomplished. I don't think He meant for us to pack our schedules full of coffee dates and get-togethers that at some point, it starts feeling like there's no time to breathe.

If you feel like you're running up a rockslide, stop and take a breath, and remember that IT'S OKAY TO SLOW DOWN.

It's okay to stop altogether for a period of time. It's okay to read magazines for fun and sit on your porch and drink coffee and lounge. It's okay to take naps and eat long breakfasts and not do anything for a WHOLE day. No one's going to die. The cars outside won't drive off the street, and you are not God, and you certainly don't need to accomplish all your life goals by the end of this year. Good thing we have a whole life to live.

Psalm 62:1 says, "My soul finds rest in God alone; my salvation comes from Him."

Not only have I been learning that resting is okay, but from this, I know that I'll only really rest when I'm communing with God. It's a promise repeated over and over again in the Bible. God = rest for souls. It's a simple truth, and God made it simple so we wouldn't have to work hard or strain to understand.

I expect that even so, it will take me time to adjust to this. My decision is to have grace with myself in learning to rest well and  in learning to not feel like I need to be accomplishing the world each weekend.

In light of that, I've been reading poems, and here is one that I love. Enjoy.

Bed Brightening (After Les Murray)

I wanted us to talk with the sudden snaps

of carbonation misting at our lips.

I wanted you to see sky snagging trees,

tamping beetles into shade, how night

after night ribbed wings flung off dew,

My jeans are weighed with fingered rocks

and acorn hats and pulled-out springs

Oh, Orpheus--- you never got to feel

cold air on my heel or hear slow

joints of trains jolted awake

by clasping down-track cars.

The shift of light or quick knock

into life that radios make before

they play songs. These clicks shoot

off in the drawers by my bed. Glasses

chime in sinks nearby. Rabbit ears tauten

with motorcycle throttle just out

of range to guests. But every ear

is a broken bowl held back together

with fissures exposed. My room corners

curve. Dust seeps into grooves.

I am my own kind of static.

- Leila Wilson, The Hundred Grasses

Seasons

During some season of life, all you can really do is post the music that you've been listening to. This is what I've been hearing in the car to work, while I shower, and in my room at night. Sometimes I play songs when I cook and often when I run (although listening to audio books while I'm jogging is a lot more exciting most of the time). Here's to the end of summer and the start of fall! Cheers! [youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zQqqkIoc580&w=420&h=315]

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KAmmtqLmLsw&w=420&h=315]

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QHlTMxBzguI&w=420&h=315]

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YUJZk-AMKoI&w=420&h=315]

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ercoqcs9ojI&w=420&h=315]

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b-edoet4RwY&w=420&h=315]

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_mqRI4dCP8k&w=420&h=315]

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q45TyPk8yiI&w=420&h=315]

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2VVwSLW-cMI&w=420&h=315]

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FLzSvsgX5W4&w=420&h=236]

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L-DQrgHBKLk&w=420&h=236]

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tqyIpH4zy7I&w=420&h=236]

Observations While Running on Grand Ave.

Since moving to the city, I've been able to run on all sorts of interesting streets. There's Summit Avenue, with all its mansions and wrought-iron fences and "Do Not Enter - Alarm Will Sound" signs. The houses are made out of stone or brick, and some have marble statues or large fountains in the yard. Then, there are all the quiet, neighborhood streets surrounding ours, protected by the Historical Society---each house charming in its own individual way and each brightly painted with different colored trim and shutters. Someone stamped poetry into the sidewalk squares before the cement dried in front of many of the houses, and there are "Little Free Libraries" in random yards---a stack of books in a birdhouse-like structure where you can "Take a Book, Return a Book" for free. These streets are shady, and you run by sprinklers in yards or people sitting on their porches drinking iced tea. Someone was playing the ukelele when I was walking by on my cool-down on Monday.

These streets are nice if you're looking for somewhere peaceful to run. I, personally, like running on Grand Ave. It's busy, and there are lots of people and cars and a lot going on all at once. Here are my observations from my runs on Grand:

1. There are lot of random men in their 20's or 30's just walking around by themselves at about four or five in the afternoon. Maybe they are looking for the love of their life. Or maybe they just like the fresh air. One guy sat in his yard by the sidewalk and just strummed the guitar yesterday. We nodded at each other as I ran by.

2. There are also a lot of Moms. Shopping I suspect. They like to smile politely when you pass them on the sidewalk.

3. There are old men with white beards who sit outside of the Dunn Bros by Snelling and just stare at the sky and rest their hands on their knees or their fat bellies. They wear faded blue jeans.

4. Last weekend, a teenage kid almost ran into me when he ducked to avoid a low-hanging branch that almost completely crossed the sidewalk by Saratoga Street.

5. I almost ran into an elderly couple the week before when ducking to avoid the same branch.

6. It's nice to pray when you run. It's hard to keep your thoughts from jarring around in your head and wandering, though. (Isn't it like that no matter what you're doing?) I'm getting better at this.

7. People sitting outside of restaurants at tables on the sidewalk seem grumpy. This must be because they're very hungry because why else would you be at a restaurant at 4:30pm. I passed a couple in their late thirties on Monday who had finished their food and were just staring past each other. They seemed bored or mad or like they had reached a stalemate in the middle of an argument.

8. Mile 3 is my best mile. I can run faster, and I have more energy. I hit this mile when I'm running past the Sinclair station and the Twisted Fork and the fabric store.

9. There are a lot of things to dodge on Grand Avenue. Tables, little kids drawing with chalk on the sidewalk, couples walking. Often, they don't hear me coming, even when I'm a few feet away, so I have to pass them on the grass and skirt around trees or fire hydrants. I try to breathe loud, but it doesn't always work.

10. Being around other people while running encourages me to run. I like interacting with them as I run by. I like seeing other runners or bikers out getting the deed done for the day. Sometimes we smile (or grimace) at each other as we run past. It's nice to know that I'm not alone in the pain and sweat and numbed feet.

Mornings When it is Easy to Think Deeply.

It's thunderstorming outside. Even though it's 9:00 AM, the streetlight outside my window is still on and burning brightly since the sky is overcast. I just pulled myself out of bed to close the curtains so it wouldn't be in my eyes. The air is cool and pouring through the screen which is a welcome change from the last several weeks when it was around eighty or ninety degrees each night. I've been taking cold showers before bed out of desperation and turning on all the fans in our apartment each night. We wake up to get ready for work and sweat while putting our makeup on. I've learned to always pour myself a glass of water right away in the morning to avoid any headaches.

This, of course, is our own choice (a valiant attempt to save money over the summer), so I really can't complain. But if you haven't been in the Twin Cities in the last month, let me just assure you: it's. been. hot.

Now, a car drives by on the street---the sound of water spraying out from the tires. Thunder rumbles, and I can hear the drain pipe from the gutters on the building next door as a steady stream pours from the opening. The ground is steaming. When I first woke up, I heard the rain pouring down and realized I had forgotten my Bible, another book, and a half-drunk cup of coffee on the screened-in porch from the previous morning. So I booked it out of bed, unlocked all three locks on the porch door (it always feels a bit medieval with so many clasps and bolts), and scooped both up. The books were a bit cold but not damp enough to have wrinkled pages.

This is a sleepy morning. I'm tired, and most of me wishes I was still sleeping. But it feels good to be up earlier than my alarm and huddled under the covers while the storm rolls by. I'm contemplating a fresh cup of coffee now---as well the porch again and a sweatshirt. There is a crack of light coming under my door which can only mean that Jojo is up and rustling around in the kitchen. I think I'm going to join.

Goodmorning and enjoy this rainy hour.

Love, Lo

A Bit on New York

I sat on the edge of the fountain in Washington Square Park two days ago and watched the girls who knew they had long legs saunter their short shorts around and sip drinks gracefully. The Italian men with cigars smoked in the humidity, and the smog over the city made us squint. The tops of my feet ached after walking over 10 miles of street, or so said the Map My Walk app, but not a lot would have stopped us from walking on and getting gelato from a street cart later that evening and then moseying over to the shopping district, then Little Italy, and then, later, back down to the subway. An old man sat by his window in a brick building that we walked past, gazing out over the street. Policemen stood with their hands on their hips at street corners, and pretty French women spoke calmly and then rapidly to their small girls and smoothed their hair. Young men sold pastries from their sweet-smelling carts on the street, and construction cones surrounded a great, steaming pipe that rose out of one of the manholes in the middle of the road. Crowds of people crossed back and forth at every crosswalk, and I noticed all the men with briefcases and the smart-looking girls with their big, leather designer bags.

The lights of the theaters were just blinking on when we finally reached the subway on Sunday night, and the city was in full, glittering display by the time we returned to Manhattan. We took the C and E trains most places, and as I sat on the bench, scrunching my toes against the grit on my sandals and feeling the hot gasps of heat from the trains as they rattled deafeningly past on the tracks, I couldn't help but think of Nick Carraway and his being "simultaneously enchanted and repelled by the inexhaustible variety of life.”

This city truly never sleeps, but in a different way than I had always thought. Maybe the city was anxious? Out looking for love? Too busy to stop and rest? The only face out of the thousands that I can truly remember from my time in New York City was that of a little girl who dumped her cereal and milk on the floor accidentally at the hotel's complimentary breakfast, and then, with a panicked, confused look in her eyes, left the bowl on the tile and ran off to find her mother. She came back within the minute, looking down at it worried and biting a nail, and then darted off again, unsure of what to do. A man walked right through the milk, almost slipping, and then regained his balance. Soon, two janitors came and mopped the mess away, cracking jokes and laughing as they went.

I can't help but think that out of these millions of people and all the different life experiences they have had, the things they've thought about, and the emotions they've experienced, that there is something the same between us all. Some common thread of human occurrence and relatable understanding. From Harlem to Manhattan, to those buying drinks at the lemonade stands in Central Park to those waiting for the buses in The Bronx, each of us has experienced some degree of shame, some degree of joy or anger. Sadness, and whatever else life brings. We are all corresponding and parallel, but beautifully disparate in a thousand different degrees at once. I think this is what amazed me most about New York.

Tighten Up

There is nothing left in our living room except for the couches, some lamps, the vacuum, and random plastic bags. The walls are bare except for the nails where our pictures hung and scuff marks that we are going to soap down tomorrow. It's our second-to-last night here, and there are mixed feelings all around. I'm tired, and my car is crammed full of boxes and plants and an end table. Tomorrow I have to call Dirk, our landlord, and I have to call the Internet company so they can send me a sticker to put on the box so that I can mail the modem back to them. I changed my address with USPS last night, so that was exciting. We made a giant pile of things to bring to the Goodwill in the last two days, and Drew helped us donate the bikes on the balcony too. It was nice to sit with him and Elsie at LeeAnn Chin's after and talk about where our new haunts are going to be (we figured if we meet in the middle, we'll end up somewhere on the east side of Minneapolis). Those are the mundane details of my last several days. Here's some move-out music that's been helping with the packing. So long and goodnight.

[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=flkByutsgTg&w=420&h=315]

Countdowns and Flocks

I've never heard so many birds singing at once. All our windows are open. I'm eating sea salt caramel pretzel ice cream on my bed, a blanket on my lap (it comes on and off, I keep getting too cold and too hot). There must be fifty birds in the trees around our apartment, and they are all chattering at once. The crickets are starting to chirp too, which is always a comforting sound to me. I'm still getting used to this new season---it's such a jolt to jump straight from winter to summer. I love the temperatures we have now, but I didn't realize how much I appreciate that period of time when everything melts, gets slushy and rainy, and then the buds sit on the trees for a week or two, and everyone waits expectantly. I treasure that feeling of hope. Feels like we're all still trying to get our bearings now.

On another note, I have a black dress that, when I wear it, always leaves big, black dye stains on my arms. This was a shame a couple days ago when I got home and was ready to change into a tank top (we were all roasting in our apartment, trying to avoid turning on the air conditioner in order to save money, but ended up resorting to it anyway). I've washed the dress several times in the washing machine, by itself, without any other clothing, and each time the water drains out black. It's really the dress' one downfall. Other than stained shoulders and arms, I love it to pieces.

Another update: I'm traveling to the East Coast soon! To visit New York City, Connecticut, the Appalachian mountains, D.C., and see some family in Virginia. So, I have about a two-week countdown until moving day now and a one-month countdown until this trip. I'm pretty excited for both---I always seem to have great life realizations on road trips and during transitions, and I'm already looking forward to the growth (whether painful or not painful) that will happen.

Now I can hear a mourning dove outside, and the sun has almost set. Apparently there's a Flash Flood Watch for Hennepin and Ramsey County, but it sure doesn't seem like anything's flooding outside to me.

Off to watch a movie with Elsie and Max!

Laur

The now, the cheese, the bonfire

I am blogging because Drew told me to blog, and sometimes it just takes the people in your life telling you to do things you love for you to actually do them. So here I am. Kirsten is sitting on the couch across from me, eating Monster Cookie ice cream out of her new mug from the pottery tour at Briscoe's and watching Baby Mama. There are boxes everywhere, a clump of lamps and containers on the entertainment center, and blankets, pillows, dishes, and bins scattered around the rest of the apartment. We just stored the Persian rug for move-in time, along with the gold velvet chair and the wooden dresser, and then we took a good fifteen minutes out of our afternoon to finish up the wasabi peas in the cupboard. We're trying to eat all the food we have, so we can avoid grocery shopping during this time and just finish it all off. Kirsten leaves in three days, and then the rest of us will be headed our separate ways within the next two weeks.

I don't feel nostalgic yet which either means that it hasn't really hit me that we're all leaving, or I've just learned how to handle transition very well. I'm trying to stay in the present and appreciate each moment as it comes this next month. While at the pottery tour up north yesterday, my uncle and I talked about taking chances and how it's one of the best things you can do in life--even if you fail. We were sitting in the North Folk winery, a recent dream that my aunt and uncle's friends have recently made into a reality. Bonfire smoke drifted in the windows, mixing with the wood scent of the log walls and vaulted ceiling. The building itself is in a big, open field with one side nestled into a forest. People were mulling about beneath us, chattering and tasting wine--la cresent, pear-apple, strawberry-rhubarb--and eating dubliner and cheddar cheeses. We talked about moving, pursuing dreams, and work. We ate cheese. Then we went outside and listened to the folk and blues singers, and I felt snug under the wool blanket and happy to be near people that I loved. It was good to sit in the present, while the sun was growing dusky and kids were running back and forth between the wood benches and around the fire, dancing, and we were all enjoying some of the beautiful.

In the name of staying in the present (or at least the present of this week), here is a list of the things I am looking forward to in the next seven days:

• Small group BBQ on a forecasted 90-degree Tuesday
• Getting together with Amy and hearing some very important things
• Great Gatsby for the second time, this time with fancy desserts
• Celebrating Kirsten on her last day with us on Wednesday
• Roadtripping to northern WI to see Gwen get married

Well, that's all I have for you. Kirst and I going to run some errands now.

Peace. L

Fire Truck

I went to Gap to buy a dress one night a couple weeks ago, and on my way to the store, a fire truck pulled out of the department and onto the street. I followed it down the road for about four miles, its lights sparkling red and blue under the cloudy overhang. The truck's sirens were off, and I watched it in the silence as cars pulled to the side to let it by or slowed and started again in front of me. It struck me as strange that I was going to a shop to browse through racks of cotton drop-waist and shirtdress, and someone else in the world was trying to find their cat in a smoke-filled room or hauling their soot-covered children out to the curb. It's odd to think of that---the amount of souls passing back and forth from earth to the supernatural every minute. For every person that is dying right now, in this instant, someone else is being born and beginning a new and richly deep life. If I think too much about this, my brain gets heavy. One thing that's comforting, though, in all this coming and going, is the fact that our bodies are only houses for our souls, and our souls go on forever. We always have that hope.

I read this in a book last month:

In 1971, John Lennon released the song 'Imagine.' In the lyrics, Lennon calls himself a 'dreamer' who imagines a world without nations and without religion. Without these, he says, there would be 'nothing to kill or die for.' Once ideas about heaven, hell, and God are removed, it becomes possible to 'imagine all the people living life in peace.'

To me, there is nothing less peaceful than this idea. I don't think the problems plaguing the world could simply be solved by this---there is always human nature and history to reckon with.

No matter what angle I look at it from, I always come back to this: In Jesus, there is always hope. He brings peace into a busy mind buzzing with worry, reveals beauty and depth in everything, fights for, rescues, and loves ferociously. There is something scary beautiful about the way He made people in His image and what that means for humanity.

When all feels lost, sin is running rampant, everyone annoys you and no one seems to like you or care what you think, it's refreshing to know that Jesus' death has conquered it all, and we can fully trust Him to come through and help---even if it's not how we would have expected it. Be open to it happening in a different way than you might have planned.

Just remember, you're not alone. There are people who care. And there is Someone who is ever so mindful of you.

[Art by Oliver Jeffers]