reclaiming via rediscovery.

R E C L A I M I N G.

A friend once said that she was "reclaiming herself." I wasn't exactly sure, at the time, what that phrase meant.

...oh, Lord - am I ever now.

I've been lost, these past months, in the hazy shoulds and foggy need-tos and murky why-don't-yous of others. These advisers undoubtedly meant well, but my convictions - once a sort of beacon lighting the way ahead - were all but obscured by frustration borne of incongruence between belief and action. In the process, this girl's life became something increasingly unrecognizable - hence the need for a bit of reclaiming.

Websters' online dictionary defines reclaim as a recalling from wrong or improper conduct [as in reformation] or a restoring to a previous natural state. When personally applied, each of these re- words conveys the importance of a conscious awareness of and attention to past experiences - those that have formed us, for better or worse - in any attempt at forward motion.

Martin Luther King, Jr. said it well: "If we are to go forward, we must go back and rediscover those precious values - that all reality hinges on moral foundations and that all reality has spiritual control."

[Side note: MLK definitely gets an invite to my fantasy dinner party. Also, I'm not sure what it means that "all reality has spiritual control." Let's just run with it, shall we?]

So, I'm going back. I'll revisit the ideas that excited and invigorated me as a kid and a teenager and a college student. I'll pick up those hobbies that, for one reason or another, I set down. And I'll start recording my memories (thanks to Don Miller & his excellent book, A Million Miles in a Thousand Years, for the idea!) as I recall them - for what are we, if not a fantastic and messy conglomeration of our experiences?

Yep - it's time for R E D I S C O V E R Y.

This is gonna be good, y'all.

beauty!

This day was strangely beautiful.

Amidst hauntingly-true stories of police brutality and treasure lost and found and lost again, I glimpsed goodness and grace. Each time it happens, I'm caught off guard - surely beauty wouldn't be here, so quiet and unassuming? But there it is, and it's all shiny and stand-out next to the dirt of daily life.

It's always the littlest thing - a song that speaks truth, a friend's comment, sunshine streaming through the windows just so. We couldn't plan for these moments, these quiet whispers of Love, if we wanted to - and maybe, probably, that's much of what infuses them with beauty. Each soft surprise reminds us that, though there's much that we don't yet understand, we've been born into a world so magnificent and joyful - and, yes, painful - and have not been left to fend for ourselves.

Where is beauty surprising you?

living simply.

Mahatma Gandhi is quoted as saying something to the effect of "there's enough for everyone's need but not for everyone's greed." Here in the States - and, generally, the West - we encounter excess and greed at every turn. I see it in the streets and supermarkets and churches of Cambridge and Boston. I see it in my clients' tired eyes on difficult days, when they long for another drink, another smoke, another hit - something more to dull the pain that itself feels excessive, too much, out-of-control. I see it, so often, in my heart and behavior - surely, I think, more money or friends or stuff will quiet the whisper that all is not well?

I've been thinking and reading lots lately about living simply. Apparently, it's become a bit of a movement where people live in tiny houses and compost just about everything - and, while intrigued, I'm not quite ready to follow in their footsteps. This idea of simplifying life, though, resonates - and, when things resonate, I start asking questions.

Is my preoccupation with the "stuff" of life - and the acquisition of more stuff - causing me to miss that which really matters?

How might I modify my consumptive habits to, in whatever small ways, create awareness of and begin to diminish the needs of others?

Would letting go of some of this stuff enable me to have greater solidarity with the [local & global] poor?

Do I really need all of these things?

Hmm.

I'm not demonizing having possessions - clearly, things aren't evil in and of themselves, and isn't it all a gift, anyway? I enjoy Starbucks and my iPod as much as the next gal, but I'm also convinced that life is richer, deeper, sweeter when our pursuit of spiritual growth - our own and our neighbors' - trumps our pursuit of yet another gadget.

Some folks, like this guy, have whittled their number of personal possessions to 100, most of which are necessities or items of significant sentimental value. When I think about taking on a similar challenge, I cringe - and not just a little bit - but, simultaneously, wonder how doing so would change the ways that I think about consumption and community.

links:

Wikipedia: simple living

rowdy kittens: social change through simple living

green living ideas: simple living

the simple way: a christian community committed to the practice of simple living

up to the mountain

Today, I slept until 1pm.

Today was a great day.

: )

I'm smack-dab in the middle of lots of changes - work, faith, life changes - and, if I'm honest, I've always been just a little allergic to the whole idea. This time, though, I'm hoping to make like a California girl (yes, you can blame Katy Perry for that reference) - just riding this wave of change and coasting toward the shore, no worries.

Isn't that how it goes? well, anyway - that's the plan.

I'll probably write here about some of those changes. I'm still trying to figure out what, exactly, this blog is and what I want it to be - so, there may be change coming to this space as well.

for now: a song that's inspiring me and helping me to breathe a little deeper these days.

speaking truth

I've found that a huge part of this exercise of posting daily is one of perseverance, persistence, pressing on when I'd rather sit down and shut up and let other people do the talking. That still sounds preferable, if I'm honest, but there's this thing: I'm gettin' bored with timidity. There's too much to be said - too many wonderful things and people and ideas in this world to discuss, to praise, to question - to be overly concerned with something so silly as what might she think? what might he say? what if what if what if?

I've been in that place, friends - so, so many times. I've said things that I think will make other people like me more, and I've kept my mouth shut in order to preserve some impression or image. Quickest way to a confused & conflicted heart, if you ask me.

Let's learn to walk a path of honesty. Let's speak the truth to one another in love. What might God do in our midst?

and because it has been too long and because life is just so good every day:

0101. rainstorms rolling in

0102. mint water, mint tea, mint gum.

0103. our funny Starbucks barista

0104. a safe place to sleep

0105. my MOM'S coming to BOSTON. on FRIDAY!

0106. answered prayer

0107. forgiveness

0108. sweet, pregnant Adrienne

0109. a week's worth of vacaaation

0110. a quiet walk home

just.

so.

good.

new old music.

I've recently discovered some excellent music. Patty Griffin, Shawn Colvin, Wilco - where have you been all my life?

Friday? is it really you?

The past seven days are officially in the running for longest week ever.

but - deep breath - it's Friday. and there's something about Friday that'll make even the weariest of amateur social workers perk up.

A week from today, my very own momma will travel to Boston. She'll hop aboard a jet, fly over lakes and mountains and sky and cruise into Logan mid-dayish. She's coming to see the city, and to relax - but, mostly, she's coming to see me.

[Leisa Ann, age 16]

People often say that I favor my mom, and it's true - we share DNA and heart and memories. She's a woman of compassion, of emotional generosity, who loves much and often. She feels things deeply, as do I, and is a better woman for it. In me, she has instilled the value of faith; in her, I've witnessed the beauty of a heart that hopes against the odds.

anticipating lots of laughs, perhaps a few tears, and a whole lotta life crammed into five days.

[Sarah, Becca, and Mom, last summer at Fenway]

sweet, sweet music.

easily one of my favorite bands. watch, listen & enjoy!

A Conversation with Punch Brothers About Antifogmatic from Punch Brothers on Vimeo.

gettin' out of town.

I spent today miles & miles away at Stow Acres Country Club for a work-related fundraiser. When I wasn't honed in on Hole #4 - I'd been assigned the task of witnessing at the hole, since a hole-in-one made the lucky golfer eligible for a hefty cash prize - I read a little of this book, shared good conversation with great people, enjoyed the sunshine and ubiquitous green, and drove a golf cart without causing serious injury to myself or my passengers. Overall, I'd call the day a success. =)

and now, I'm drinkin' tea and being quiet and listening to mellow Jesus music. In all honesty, I need to hear and know the gospel - the good news - tonight, 'cause I feel like I've forgotten it - or, at the very least, that it applies to this weary saint.

grateful for generous friends, Subway sandwiches (for lazy nights), and new mercies that'll greet me in the morning.

you're being robbed.

I like to read Donald Miller's blog. He's one of my favorite authors because he's honest, witty, and just self-deprecating enough to be endearing (instead of annoying). His post today seeped into my mind and found a nice, cozy corner to knock around in - read it, if you'd like - and has me asking this question:

"How are my addictions and habits robbing me of a better story?"

We've all got 'em - the ways that we spend time, that tick-tock-ticking currency of living, that do little to speak beauty or truth or life into our own story or those stories being lived around us. The days pass, as days do, and we find that these ways of being - these less-than-redemptive habits and addictions - are now life, and, well, about that: when did life become so boring? As Don says: bad habits create boring stories.

I have a habit of procrastinating in facing situations/people/tasks that cause me to feel stressed. I think, maybe, that something about this act gives me an illusion of control - "I'll decide when and how and where to have that awkward conversation, thankyouverymuch!" - but regardless of the why, this is one of my own pet habits that happens to be creating a very boring, very repetitive story in my life's trajectory.

I want to live a story that shouts of life's value and beauty and goodness - you know the sort. I'm thinking that dragging my feet, making excuses, and kicking myself the next day (or week or month or year) isn't quite the way to make that happen. Anyone want to argue the point?

Here's a question [rhetorical or not-so-much, your pick]: what's robbing you?

good morning, brighteyes.

I am inspired by this lady to blog each and every day for one month. Since it's June 7th, I'm gonna try my darnedest to write something every. single. day until July 7th.

Ready...

set.....

GO!!!

Here are five of my favorite things about being up at the crack o' dawn:
1. birds just chirp-chirp-chirping away
2. sun peeking over rooftops
3. coffee. mmmmmm!
4. peace & quiet
5. the hope and promise of a new day

Happy mornin' to ya!

be your brother's keeper.

I go to church with Caroline Cobb Smith, who writes and sings beautiful songs. I recently picked up her latest album and, this morning, have a line from her song Abel running through my mind. I've heard Caroline say at a show that Abel was written in response to a friend's request that she pen a song about genocide - a tall order, no? In so doing, she returned to the biblical story of the first murder - that of Abel by his brother, Cain - and exposes, through the medium of song, the forces behind Cain's murderous heart and our own hatred and jealousy and anger toward our brothers and sisters. It's really a powerful tribute to the unspeakable pain experienced by survivors of genocide and violence and a call to the hope that is in Jesus.

Anyway, the line that I just can't get out of my head is simply this:

Please don't fight anymore//Be your brother's keeper//We are brothers

In light of the recent violence in Russia (and Iraq, Afghanistan, Mexico, Colombia, etc etc), my heart longs for peace. I sing with Caroline - 'please don't fight anymore!' - and look to the day when the lion will lie with the lamb and peace will come.

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace;
where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
where there is sadness, joy.
O divine Master,
grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console;
to be understood, as to understand;
to be loved, as to love;
for it is in giving that we receive,
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
and it is in dying that we are born to Eternal Life.
Amen.
St. Francis

If you're so inclined, you can click here to listen to Abel.

the single most powerful question you can ask

Read this...

then, this:

what if?
what if I listened more?
what if I went back to school?
what if I mentored a young girl?
what if I gave away more of my income?
what if I bought a guitar and wrote some songs?
what if I went to India?
what if I wrote some every day?
what if I took an acting class?
what if I ran a half-marathon?
what if I talked with a therapist?
what if I learned how to sew?
what if I ate more raw foods?
what if I decided to stop eating meat?
what if I told my story?
what if I stopped being jealous?
what if I found a place to serve at my church?
what if I planted a garden?
what if I recycled more?
what if I got a tattoo?
what if I called an old friend?
what if I visited Texas more often?
what if I helped to plant a church?
what if I told people how I felt about them?

hmm -- good thought/writing fodder! now, your turn.

life lessons

I'm going to employ one of the simplest forms of communication - the list - to talk about life in recent days. I need simple right now. :)

so, I'm learning that:

I can wear bright colors like yellow and orange. this realization brings me great happiness.

it's okay that I've struggled with letting go of the hope of a relationship with a certain someone, but there is a time to move on - and that time is now.

we need one another. I discover who I am in the context of relationship.

I'm broken (even more so than I had previously realized!) and need a savior.

I like the taste of [some] beer. yep, ladies and gents: you read it here. :)

it's fun to experiment with fashion. I've never been one to care much about such things but am starting to have a lot of fun in being creative with what I wear.

bluegrass music makes me ridiculously happy. <3

it's very, very difficult to maintain friendships when separated by many miles. possible, yes, but difficult nonetheless.

moderation is key! - and discovering what 'moderation' is in various situations can be challenging.

it's important to persevere in moments - or days - or situations of discomfort. difficulty or awkwardness aren't so bad, really, and it's in these places that we discover the strength beneath the surface.

French film, food, and people are inspiring. who doesn't want a life filled to the brim with passion (plus fruit, cheese, bread, and wine)? ;)

and hope is just around the corner.

a heart that trusts.

I'm being challenged these days by the example of two women - Lindsey & Larissa - both of whom I've never met and probably never will. In their respective sets of [what most would count as extremely difficult] circumstances, Lindsey and Larissa are living lives marked by grace, peace, patience, and an undeniable faith and trust in Jesus.

Despite being raised by believing parents and walking this road of faith for some time, I often find trusting Jesus to be quite the difficult endeavor. I'll grasp some theological concept or heart lesson, then find myself questioning whether I understood it correctly or - more often than I'd wish - whether it's really true in the first place. I remember seasons during college when I would get so fed up with the seeming endless flood of questions and doubts and my inability to sustain a life of faith. In that place, my walk with the Savior felt so frustrating and fruitless. Lately, the place that I've been in spiritually has been very similar, and I've struggled with how to continue to walk with Jesus in the midst of some unanswered - and seemingly unanswerable - questions.

I find freedom in the knowledge that the Father is not like me. I seriously lack follow-through, but he keeps his promises and makes good on his word every time. I'm learning, now, that it isn't up to me to sustain my faith, but that faith, like all good things, is a gift and is sustained by the Father.

I'm beginning to learn, too, that he is always, always good to his children - even in those circumstances that cause us pain. The psalmist writes, "It is good for me that I was afflicted, that I might learn your statutes." I believe that we can learn about and experience the character and attributes of God during all seasons of life, but is it not true that a season of difficulty and pain has a way of reminding us of our need of God and of focusing our attention on those things that are lasting and eternal? Praise God that the jury isn't out on whether he is good every time that I have a difficult day (or month or year)! His goodness, like all of his attributes, is pure and complete.

I may always struggle, to some extent, with doubt - but because HE is steady, both in his character and his love toward me, I am able to come to him on happy days, difficult days, and every other sort of day in between.
Thanks be to God.

hidden treasures.

"The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field, which a man found and covered up. Then in his joy he goes and sells all that he has and buys that field." Matthew 13

I think that, sometimes, the most unexpectedly good gifts aren't readily visible. As in Jesus' parable, goodness often hides beneath layers of dirt, undiscovered but for a man or woman's stumbling upon it and recognizing it as possessing value. I'll be honest: usually, I'm too lazy to be bothered with the digging.

My prayer, these days, is for grace: to dig deeper when God's goodness isn't immediately apparent, and to have eyes that recognize beauty and glory in unexpected places.

giving thanks for his treasures.
0081. tulips that look like s p r i n g. <3

0082. deep conversation on the T

0083. being witness to great talent (in my own friends, no less!)

0084. singing and sharing communion with fellow believers

0085. spicy Mexican food

0086. less spicy (but just as tasty!) tapas

0087. cruising down the highway

0088. hot apple spice tea, brewed double-strength

0089. tealights in a row

0090. Christmas cards, still taped up in late January

0091. shearling moccasins

0092. red brick sidewalk + stilettos

0093. the Psalms, and Job's story

0094. goosebumps

0095. good memories of people, places, and experiences

0096. clean dishes

0097. running into people who I know around the city

0098. a blue bowl with tart green apples

0099. a high in the 50s tomorrow!

0100. the opportunity to work with each of my clients (and getting to #100 on this list!)

winter won't last forever.

This day came with a vengeance, the wind's icy fingers creeping underneath my hat and inside my boots and, it seems, into my very soul. Snow fell fast overnight, weighing bare branches low and enveloping the city in a wintry quiet. The summer's warmth has long gone, and in its absence has settled a longing for those tell-tale signs of springtime - birds chirping, snows melting, magnolias blooming - that shout of new life.

I'm grateful to live in a place where I have the opportunity to witness such a dramatic change of seasons. There's something to be said for living in much milder climates - there's certainly part of me that misses those 70* January days - but this very stark shift in my external environment directs my thoughts to the inner life, too, and for this I'm thankful.

Christian theology teaches that we come into the world spiritually dead, a condition inherited from our first parents, and find life only in the Savior and Son, Jesus. I believe this to be true, and see echoes of this concept of death-to-life scattered throughout the human experience. The deadness of winter is one such echo, serving as a reminder of the coldness of our hearts before being lit by the Spirit's flame.

I've been day-dreaming of summer - spending lazy days reading in Harvard Yard or concert-going at the Hatch Shell or eating popsicles on the front stoop in a tank top and shorts. These days, I stay indoors much more than I'd like - but the promise of April beckons, and I remember that the world won't be frozen indefinitely. Likewise, when I walk through the winters of life and my spirit grows cold, I remember that it, too, will not be frozen forever. I hope in Jesus, whose resurrection from death-to-life inaugurated the coming of the Kingdom - God's new way of life - in our present world. Because of his grace, this redemptive work has extended to people like us, waking us from our slumber to the glorious life that is at hand. Thanks be to God!

resonating.

I just watched Garden State, all the way through, for the first time. I remember being a little scared away from it a few years ago because there were some drugs and one particularly sexy scene, and that sort of thing made me nervous. Now, I understand why so many people were drawn to this film - and why I kept hearing about it, for months and months, after it came out. I don't know the fancy filmmaker lingo - far from it - but from where I stand, we watch stories like this one because they make us feel human. Characters like Sam and Andrew remind us of the people in our lives - and, probably, of ourselves - and so we resonate with their struggles and joys and feel connected to the vast, diverse, crazy family of humanity. Stories like this one speak to the redemptive value of every awful bit of our lives, giving us hope that nothing is wasted and that life, with all of its seemingly random experiences, is about something much more meaningful and interconnected than we could've dared to dream.

I think that it's important to note, too, that we are so drawn to these sorts of characters because we're allowed to see their flaws. It's easy to think, walking around in this world of ours, that we struggle alone - none of us especially enjoy talking about how messed up we are, right? Maybe it's due to a lack of confidence, present in all of us to some degree, but coming face to face with imperfection is freeing. It allows us to breeeeathe a long-overdue sigh of relief, affirming our own messy and beautiful story.

giving thanks for this beautiful mess.
0071. wilted flowers

0072. a down comforter

0073. comfort food

0074. reallllly mellow music

0075. hot soup

0076. the brisk, biting wind

0077. A Million Miles in a Thousand Years, which gave me new ways to think about story

0078. dialogue with those who are different

0079. warm, knotty hats

0080. my daily Bread

a day of promise.

I'm not sure what it was, exactly, that set today apart - as days go, this one was unremarkable, filled with such activities as napping, chatting, lunching. Still, I couldn't help but notice a quiet stirring in my heart, whispers of newness and hope and - could it be? - faith welling up, a promise of the grace of God.

Trusting Jesus, at least since college, has been littered for me with periods of doubt and unbelief. Though I say with the apostle Peter, 'Lord, to whom shall I go? You have the words of eternal life, and I have believed, and have come to know, that you are the Holy One of God,' I find that I'm more apt to fear and fret than to have faith and believe. My heart, I've found, is easily distracted - and my will, following suit, lacks resolve.

I'm reminded, today, of my dependence on the Father's grace. It boggles my mind when I consider that even my faith itself is a gift, given that I might glorify and enjoy and know the Author of all life. I'd be lost, like a sheep without a shepherd, if not for his grace.