Marital / Family Math

I was a little under the weather the other day which left me low on energy but a fully functioning mind. As I tried to entertain myself with the most creative combinations of thoughts, I came up with this fun little realization of marital / family math.

If you take the number of months we have been married and divide it by 2, that's about how old this guys is.

We have reached a family point of having him in our lives longer than we lived without him and may I just say, we have been blessed with a truly amazing kid!

"F" You

I love this! If you can't use the "F" word in church, then where?

Hats off to...

Quite often I ponder what my life would be like without Ryan.

If you stop reading after that first line, you may be concerned for our marriage. Worry not; let me explain:
Ryan almost always takes out the trash, often helps me with the dishes, checks the mail, tickles Jack until his one dimple can't sink any deeper and he can't squeal any louder, sometimes surprises me with plans, goes back to the store to get what I forgot, carries the high chair AND tray at Chick-fil-A... the list could go on and on. It's the times when Ryan is unable to help me do these things that I realize how blessed I am. Some people don't have any one to help them at all. Much less a loving, supportive spouse.
Life with Ryan is energetic, fun, and eventful in a good way. Life without my Ryan would be difficult, exhausting, and draining. I love my son dearly to a level I never knew was possible, but there is a reason children should have two parents. After moving to a new state this summer, I have traveled back to Texas a few times for various reasons and mostly by myself with Jack. I have tasted the single parent life and I empathize.

Hats off to single parents.

I applaud you for waking up this morning and starting your day knowing it probably wouldn't be easy. I applaud you for every bit of encouragement you offered your child when you really didn't feel like talking. I applaud you for cooking dinner. I applaud you for squishing the shopping cart into the handicap stall in the Wal-mart bathroom because there was no one else to hold your offspring (yes nature calls single parents in public too).
You are an unsung hero.

StReSs

How do you deal with stress? What is stress? Are you stressed? Do you think stress has long term effects? I hope this stress is temporary...

These are questions that can be heard in most married conversations, ours not to be excluded, or any close relationship conversation for that matter. In fact, we are dealing with some of these questions right now. It’s amazing what loving families will do to “make it work”. It makes me sad to think, what if I was not in a loving marriage/family? Stress is one thing but lonely and stressed is unbearable. I am so thankful that is not my situation. Our innocent son keeps us smiling and laughing constantly, and my husband works harder than two people at both jobs. I am not lonely; I am loved. I am so lucky.

To go through thickness and still be joyful is truly a gift and I must think, what if I were not joyful? How sad to lose one’s joy. Finding joy in small things keeps me going.
Last night, we made a very cheap yet still healthy dinner. We were proud of ourselves for being so frugal, but we were slightly wishing we could just splurge and go out to eat for dinner. Then, my adorable husband got out the good dishes smiling and saying, “Why not?”

At some time or another, everyone has hard times, tight times, tough times, sad times, angry times, regretful times, you name it. We must be in control of our response to the cards we are dealt. Are you familiar with the term locus of control? In case you are not, I will attempt a simple explanation based only on a psychology minor.
A person with an external locus of control feels that everything is being done to them. This person might use language like, “The glass just turned over!” instead of “I spilled my drink!” which would be an internal locus of control, where you are in control throughout your circumstances good and bad.

Sometimes I would rather have an external controlling factor because I don’t feel personally responsible. But it doesn’t work that way. I am accountable for my words and actions, even thoughts, whether I feel in control or not, therefore, why not feel in control?! If I am responsible, I might as well be empowered. If I feel like things are hard, I might as well look for the good. Back to the original question, if I feel like things are STRESSFUL, I might as well look for peace.

Peace for me looks like: cleaning my house out of pride not duty, baking a surprise just because out of ingredients I already have, watering plants and observing new growth, singing to my son, going for a walk before the sun is up, marveling at how blessed I am to be married to such a wonderful man, eating off the good dishes.

When you are stressed, what does peace look like for you? Are you stressed? If so, may the Lord who is rich in mercy and abundant in love, meet your needs and may you feel empowered within your circumstances.
Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you. 1 Peter 5:7


Peace to you and your family.

Words

I’ve decided that I would want to have a blog, even if no one ever read it. Something powerful ignites within my spirit when I put my thoughts to words and words to paper (or screen). Reflection and prayer come alive when I see my thoughts before me, reread what I have written, correct my mistakes, add more colorful adjectives and maybe a few analogies, and then click “publish”. That may be my favorite part. I once read a quote that had something to do with there being no purpose in writing without the intent to publish. I can’t fully agree with this idea for everyone- especially 12 year-old girls who live in fear of having their diary read. For me, the thought of being published excited me. The thought of creating words that would one day be quoted or recited as a rhyme.

But words are far more important than how many people read them.
It is with our words that we form a sentence to praise our Creator who gave us the capability to communicate.
It is with our words that we express our true selves to one another; or our lack of words withheld attempting to hide as if refusing to articulate protects us from facing reality.
It is with our words that we declare what we stand for, and why.

When was the last time you sat and wrote words on purpose for the pure enjoyment of seeing where your recorded journey would take you? May I suggest you try? Just start writing. If you are not sure where to start, begin with a prayer. Perhaps a prayer that has been verbally prayed often. Begin with a promise. Perhaps a promise that seems so familiar it may have lost some of its credibility. Start by writing and respond with your opinion about it, the emotions that are stirred by the thoughts you have written so far, your hopes, your frustrations, your “if onlys”. Write them down and go back and read it.

What have you learned about yourself in this process? Has the Lord shown you anything about yourself or your topic?

I hope so. And finally we pray,
Lord, give us a word.

May the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be pleasing to you, O Lord, my rock and my redeemer.
Psalm 19:14

Tradition - Jerry Peirce Arnold

In The Long Loneliness, Dorothy Day states: "Tradition! We scarcely know the word any more. We are afraid to be either proud of our ancestors or ashamed of them."

With that in mind, while traveling to grandparents in Missouri, I listened to story after story; some of which I've heard before, and complied this short commentary on my great great grandfather.

My great great grandfather, Jerry Peirce Arnold was born just after the Civil War. Living in the backwoods of Kentucky he was privileged to a high school education. After his wife became a Christian, she being uneducated, told my great-great grandfather, "You read and I'll pray." A practice that showed value to each individuals spiritual disciplines with neither care for dominance nor ability. When I hear of marriage today I either hear from the conservatives that the wife must submit and from the liberals nothing of a shared spiritual experience. Yet here in this highly patriarchal culture there is my great-great grandfather and grandmother who found mutuality. Jerry Peirce Arnold was in the habit of meeting with "Mr. Dudrey" to debate "once saved always saved". "Mister", an old term that men in that day called one another out of respect. Mr. Dudrey and Mr. Arnold - how would to world be different if we referred to one another out of respect? Students today call each other by slang terms, "cuddy", "dog", and "fool", just to name a few. These terms mean nothing to the recipient, but the by stander of culture is quite confused why one student would call another something a cow chews, or a canine, or a person who acts the idiot. Respect is not common in today's culture; neither is the decency to go out of one's way to know a name. I am a self-confessed forgetter of names, but I never forget a name of someone I want something from. It's sad, I cannot remember the name of an fellow church member who may need something from me, but I can remember the name of mere acquaintance who has season tickets and the propensity to give them away. Mr. Dudrey and Mr. Arnold would often come together and debate "once saved always saved". This was not along the lines of Mr. Tolkien and Mr. Lewis debating fiction and faith. Neither was it along the lines of Mr. Roosevelt and Mr. Muir debating nature and conservation. These conversations will not lead to a great revelation along the lines of Nicaea or Vercelli but they lead to a pursuit of knowledge and understanding. If "Mister" is a antique term then debating a long held faith belief is acquiesced. I, in my seminary education can explain to someone what is included in the building blocks of this debate. So too, I can name theologians and pastors of old who ferociously argued their polar points. However, none of this mattered to Mr. Dudrey and Mr. Arnold. These two misters took the position of the other serious enough to switch side of the argument every time they met. Truly this was a pursuit of knowledge and understanding, things valued in the academy but not the grain mill, lumber yard, corrugating plant, or computer manufacturing. My great-great grandfather, Jerry Peirce Arnold, was born after the Civil War, but like so many of old, he can teach those who listen in this generations lessons in marriage, respect, and seeking.

I was just thinking...

Today is a thought-filled day. I often have a lot of thoughts, but today I decided to write them down:

Thank you Jack for snoozing in the bouncer long enough for me to take a shower.

French presses are under-appreciated for their caffeine accountability.

My husband gave me the best compliment/simile ever this morning! He said the pancakes I made were as good as Jack is cute.

Need a good ab work out? When in the car, lean the seat slightly farther back than you need it. Concentrate on sitting up straight and keeping your middle section tight. This works best in the passenger seat on curvy roads.

Should we sell our truck before we move to Albuquerque? What if…

I can't believe Jack is already 3 months old!

I enjoy the irony of “feeling the burn” when manually mixing cookie dough.

Ryan took me dancing last night and it was one of the best dates we have had in a long time! (Thanks Granna & Pops for babysitting.) We genuinely laughed and had a wonderful time spinning around the dance floor. Dancing for us is sacred. It is how we met, what brought us closer together, and some of our best conversations have been while we were dancing. I hope we will be that old couple, still in boots, holding each other close, not complaining because we don’t know the music, just enjoying our lifelong pastime.
I highly recommend this couples’ hobby even if that means you start out taking a dance class together. If you are ever interested in joining us, just say so!

How can I get my class’ attention? Discipline? Incentives? I am going to make a survey for them with options to circle their top 3 favorite rewards. What are some good options?

Thank you Jack for playing contently so I could get caught up on ALL the laundry!

I would really like to take Jack for a walk. We’ve been walking to train for the bear-a-thon, a half marathon race that I am planning to walk with some teacher friends in March. The only problem is the warmest part of the day would be now and it is 34 and wet.

What is the best question to ask a couple entering marriage?

The following thoughts are heavy lyrics by Derek Webb:
*
don't teach me about politics and government
just tell me who to vote for
don't teach me about truth and beauty
just label my music

don't teach me about moderation and liberty
I prefer a shot of grape juice
…
I want a new law

*
there are two great lies that I’ve heard:
“the day you eat of the fruit of that tree, you will not surely die”
and that Jesus Christ was a white, middle-class republican
and if you wanna be saved you have to learn to be like Him
*
peace by way of war is like purity by way of fornication
it’s like telling someone murder is wrong
and then showing them by way of execution
*
are we defending life
when we just pick and choose
lives acceptable to lose
and which ones to defend

‘cause you cannot choose your friends
but you choose your enemies
and what if they were one
one and the same
…
love is not against the law
*
It has been a long time since I listened to this album, “Mocking Bird”, which has been one of my favorite CDs since college. Each time I listen to it, I forget how painful it is to be reminded how legalistic we Christians can be. Needless to say, his words leave you with more than enough to think about.

What should I cook this week? When am I going to the grocery store?

Thank you Jack for your smiles today.

Thank you Lord for my family: Ryan and Jack. My heart is full for them.

Change

I am writing my first blog as a mom as my son sleeps peacefully in my lap. I'm a mom. Really? Jack's presence in our home and family has become normal, but me, a mom? This has not sunk in. My friend Autumn asked me a question regarding our child: "Did you know such love existed?" Not at all. I need only to look at him and my heart floods.

Jack is 6 weeks old. This tiny (but growing-all-too-fast) baby has changed our world in the most natural way. The spare bedroom has changed into a nursery, the recliner in our living room has changed into a glider, my purse has changed into a diaper bag, our daily routine has changed into a feeding schedule- not to mention all the diaper changes.

The biggest change I have noticed though is in me. My son who is completely dependent on his parents for survival has challenged me more spiritually than anyone I've ever met. The flashing urgency alarm to live my life as an example has changed the way I think, pray, and see the world. It is up to us to live as the kind of person we pray he will become. The stakes have never been so high. My recent spiritual growth has been a direct result of this bar being raised. How refreshing it is to be watered after experiencing drought.

We have been blessed beyond measure.

This familiar hymn offers my sentiments exactly:

Great is Thy faithfulness, oh God my Father;
There is no shadow of turning with Thee;
Thou changest not, Thy compassions, they fail not;
As Thou hast been, Thou forever wilt be.

Great is Thy faithfulness! Great is Thy faithfulness!
Morning by morning new mercies I see.
All I have needed Thy hand hath provided;
Great is Thy faithfulness, Lord, unto me!

Summer and winter and springtime and harvest,
Sun, moon, and stars in their courses above
Join with all nature in manifold witness
to Thy great faithfulness, mercy and love.

Great is Thy faithfulness! Great is Thy faithfulness!
Morning by morning new mercies I see.
All I have needed Thy hand hath provided;
Great is Thy faithfulness, Lord, unto me!

Pardon for sin and a peace that endureth
Thine own dear presence to cheer and to guide;
Strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow,
Blessings all mine, with ten thousand beside!

Great is Thy faithfulness! Great is Thy faithfulness!
Morning by morning new mercies I see.
All I have needed Thy hand hath provided;
Great is Thy faithfulness, Lord, unto me!

The peaceful sleeper has now awaken and seems to be famished!

"The Church"

A reason I've heard for people justifying their disconnection with and repulsion of "the Church" and not wanting to be a part of it is: "I've been burned by 'the Church'."
Unfortunately, I think these victims have been mislead in what "the Church" actually is and my hope to all these lonely souls is that they would realize "the Church" not only is the body of Christ consisting of human believers but also sinful by nature, therefore flawed and bound to screw up. Enter Grace and Forgiveness. (Now would be a good time to read Ray Miller's blog post on said topics inspired by Rachel Getting Married.)
I do not blame anyone who has used this line and must say I identify with you often if this is you. Why be a part of something if this is the representation? (I will refrain from offering examples as I feel this would be unnecessary and hypocritical.) Instead of offering blame; I issue a challenge to both parties and include myself as I find myself on both sides.

Challenge to "the Burned": We all mess up. We all have weak moments, no matter the strength of the weakness. Let us pray that God would remind us of our own weak moments when we are prepared to judge someone else's that we may be humbled enough to forgive their idiocies as they will very soon be forgiving ours. Let us be gracious to each other and quick to offer embrace.

Challenge to "the Church": We are "the Church". We are the representation. It is our responsibility to bring heaven to earth. We do that by loving orphans and widows (James 1:27) and offering our coat when someone asks for our shirt (Matthew 6:40). Heaven happens because we have become less and God becomes greater (John 3:30) through action and thought. These things take choices- mind you, I'm not referring to self deprecation; that is a whole other issue. As "the Church" let us be honest with ourselves and each other that we may see ourselves, each other and God for who we all truly are. Let us be gracious to each other and quick to offer embrace.

In closing, the picture below was taken on my walk this morning and is actually the inspiration for this post. It is a humorous reminder to "the Church" to be honest and reminder to everyone else that "the Church" is made up of humans.

wilderness spirituality

Two weeks ago I had the wonderful experience of spending five days at the Monastery of Christ in the Desert. These are my thoughts:

Silence – “as it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be.”

Experience
It is 2:00pm, Thursday, May 28, 2009 and I attempt to take my preemptive nap that I sometimes like to squeeze in before reporting to work. As I lay down, my mind yells from within about all the things I must finish in the next few days – “I have to go to work tonight.” “Should I try to pick up a shift, for extra money, tomorrow?” “Sunday’s sermon is little more than a vague outline in my head.” “I have to finish those two book responses before Tuesday, when I start my Summer 1 class.” Not to forget, “I wonder when I’ll feel like writing the response paper for the whole wilderness experience.” As these thoughts invade the silence, my phone begins to rings. Normally I am overjoyed that this little contraption reads “Kristyn” (my wife) on the display screen, but when the familiar tone begins my attempted silence is further interrupted. It was not a long conversation, and sadly I should have talked longer, but the minutes were ticking away before I would have to report to Ninfa’s, and I am still wanting just a few minutes of silence before work.
Now it is 2:20pm, less than forty minutes left before my alarm will go off. The above distractions are over, and now I am able to find that comfortable place within the folds of the couch. Ahh… silence. At the brink of sleep comes the unmistakable sound of the neighbors yard crew. Oh, they do a wonderful job; while our yard is kept up by a busy seminary student, the neighbor’s thick Saint Augustine grass is as green as a Ponderosa Pine in early spring; it is the pride of the neighborhood. Normally I welcome the sound of the professional yard crew, even hoping to learn from their years of experience, but “why now?” Silence, had just been reached, why now must it be interrupted for the sake of ascetics.
2:35pm. “Here’s the plan, I will use the hum of the weed eater to mask the anxious thoughts within my head, gaining silence through noise.” Yet, that same divine device that will awake me in twenty-five minutes, the same device that allows me to talk to my bride anytime, anywhere, is now heralding me with a number I do not recognize. My precious silence is interrupted again.
2:45pm. I give up, no nap today, now I must run off to work. Silence has failed, noise has come.
This little scenario plays out in my life more often than not. The thing that I found so easy to add to my life while at the Monastery of Christ in the Desert is the same little thing that evades my grasp in ordinary living. Silence. I loose out moments of identity and knowledge because I either do not hold on hard enough, like the out of shape climber who attempts a 5.11 move his first time on the rock in two years, or I hold on to silence as much as I can only to have it striped from me by metaphorical linebackers.
Most often my life reflects the words of Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel:

We do not refuse to pray; we abstain from it. We ring the hollow bell of selfishness rather than absorb the stillness that surrounds the world, hovering over all that restlessness and fear of life – the secret stillness that precedes our birth and succeeds our death. Futile self-indulgence brings us out of tune with the gentle song of nature’s waiting, of mankind’s striving for salvation.
Is not listening to the pulse of wonder worth silence and abstinence from self-asserting?
Rushing through the ecstasies of ambition, we only awake when plunged into dread or grief. In darkness, then, we grope for solace, for meaning, for prayer. (Abraham Joshua Heschel. I Asked for Wonder. 21-22)

Even in my frustrated state, before I joined the noise of a busy restaurant and bar, my longing was for silence. Bill Bright asserts that silence is a mark of spiritual maturity; that, “True silence is the rest of the mind; and is to the spirit, what sleep is to the body, nourishment and refreshment.” (Bill Bright. Holy Silence. 35) True Silence, this is what I long for and so often miss in everyday life; it is what I wished to gain before running off to serve my fellow man enchiladas, margaritas, and guacamole.

Wilderness
I grew up going camping more often than watching a movie in the theater. While this experience may be a rarity for my generation, I find it soothing. The wilderness was my place of growth; it is where I learned anything from leadership to love, from team-building to self-limitations. As I got older and able to drive long distances, the mountains became my respite, my classroom. This wilderness formation found solidification with the summer of 2006 being spent within a tent in the great Yosemite Valley. There is simply no other place I feel in my element as I do when sounded by towering peaks, juniper trees, bristle cone pines, and snowmelt streams. If home is where the heart is, then the wilderness is my abode.
While all this is great and matches much of Robert Frost, the question of life and silence must be lifted to the surface. How do I live in the silence when life’s noise caries the melody of the day? How do I find wilderness in the concrete and glass of the city?
While discussing his spiritual journey from Houston to Portland, in Through Painted Deserts, Donald Miller highlights Dallas in such a way that it has become a mirror into my past and present. He states:

Dallas blew in on the wing of a Gulf coast hurricane and rained glass and steel onto a field of bluebonnets. It’s an odd town, though. A big, Republican, evangelical city where you can’t drink, girls wear black dresses for dates on Wednesday, and the goal is to join the local country club like your daddy and his daddy before him. When you build a city near no mountains and no ocean, you get materialism and traditional religion. People have too much time and lack inspiration. (Donald Miller. Through Painted Deserts. 21. Emphasis mine.)

Although my adolescent years in South Dallas / Waxahachie have long been eclipsed by my college experience in Belton, I have never strayed far from I-35 for any length of time. That stretch of interstate has come to epitomize my non-wilderness experience.
I-35 is a long highway that acts as the coronary artery to the bread basket of the United States. It runs from Laredo, TX to Duluth, MN, and while it crosses many rivers, it never dips into the ocean nor skirt any mountains. It is a concrete monstrosity that can get a person from the pains to the boundary waters within a day, but on that journey there will be little fanfare or taste. The scenery will turn from green to brown, then back to green; you may fall into a few hills but nothing that cannot be maneuvered at 75 mph.
This is how I feel in central Texas, with the only wildernesses within the populated bike trails of Cameron Park or day drives to a hand full of small state parks, whose only major attractions are man made lakes. If there is no wilderness, then there is no abode. Thus I must wrestle every day like a fish out of water looking for silence, looking for home.
Bill Bright says, “If we are never silent, then we never have to look at the truth about ourselves.” When I live outside the wilderness, I live in what I consider the “Dallas effect” – with too much time on my hands, a false focus on material stability, and little inspiration. Silence must be sought no matter how difficult. It may be a slow walk to the library taking time to notice the azalea’s or getting up early and going to the bike trails before the army of Swins take over. Through discipline I may learn how to survive or even thrive in Waco, but only as a man in a straight jacket, knowing he can do so much more.

Prayer
“May 21, 2009 – 8:30am – Monastery”
A prayer from last night:
Lord, I pray for all the cares, causes, and comforts that draw on me like bungee cords; that I may have the strength to resist leaving the silence.

While away at the Monastery of Christ in the Desert there were many cares that drew me to deeper prayer: Grandparents failing health, the upcoming expansion of our family, Kristyn’s parents, and U.S. foreign policy. Jesus says that whatever we ask for in his name will be giving to us; however, from experience we know that there are unanswered prayers. F.B. Myer wrestles with this inconsistency by saying, “The greatest tragedy in life is not unanswered prayer but unoffered prayer”, and so all the cares that pull us from self-absorption are to be interceded upon with faith.
Causes are the good things that grab our hearts out of silence; things that beckon upon us like lilies to light. The orphans in Sudan, the hungry in Zimbabwe, the oppressed in China, the poor in Haiti, the numb in Europe, the busy in Dallas, and these things draw our heart toward the merciful father who wishes for all his children to find rest within his embrace.
The comforts of life are as difficult as parsing second aorist middle indicative verbs. Sometimes they're as simple as a clean bathroom, but can be as complicated as the computer which I type upon. It is the comforts that pull the hardest; it is the comforts that draw us away from the wilderness, away from silence, away from prayer. The Christian is not called to live a life void of comforts; rather he or she is to be Christ μαρτυρες. (This comes from Jesus' command at Ascension to be “his witnesses” (Acts 1:8). The word μαρτυρος is defined as “the one who testifies in legal matters, witness”; moreover, “the one who witnesses at cost of life, martyr.”) In my experience it is the comforts of life that make it difficult to follow Christ so intently, and this is probably where my romantic vision of the mountains takes root. The mountains calls a person to simple living and in simple living silence is sought.

“May 30, 2009 – 9:20am – Waco”
A Prayer:
Oh Lord, as I now live among comforts, with cares, and for the sake of causes, help me find the silence; help me listen to the pulse of wonder.

Place
The Monastery of Christ in the Desert is a wonderful place. I enjoyed this trip more than most my adventures in the wild. To practice silence and detachment with the convenience of mountain scenery and service of humble monks is a tearful joy. Toward the beginning of the week I debated whether these men had much purpose living so far from society, but now with a week's experience and a week's reflection, I see their service to the Kingdom of Heaven is unmatched by most. Their commitment to live in community with nature and one another is a prophetic testimony for all who live outside the desert. Their devotion to prayer is moving to the spirit and the earth. It is unfathomable to ponder on all the good that come from “Lord hear our prayer” and “Amen”. If I had the prayers of the monks of the Monastery of Christ in the Desert on my behalf I would be the first to volunteer to metaphorically storm the gates of hell.
Now, as I sit on my comfortable couch, I recollect the monastery, my professor, and my fellow students and nothing but sure gratitude wells up from within.

A Prayer:
Oh Lord, as I now live among comforts, with cares, and for the sake of causes, help me find the silence; help me listen to the pulse of wonder.

Surveying in Awesome Wonder

This post is a bit of a backtrack. After I graduated from college, I went to New Zealand as a live-in babysitter for a family who had just recently moved there to be missionaries. They were looking for someone who might help them with their kids as they organized their affairs and I was excited for the opportunity to travel! This ended up being an incredible time for me to desperately desire and depend on the Lord as well as learn to reflect. Below is a journal entry I wrote one morning completely energized by the greatness of creation. I have included a few pictures but of course they do not come close to justice!

June 2007

This morning I stepped out the front door of the temporary house where we are staying and crossed the street to the mixture of sand and shells at low tide, ready to enjoy an early run. Running quickly turned into exploring because there was just too much to take in at a quick pace. Exploring turned into Appreciation followed by a deeper Love for my Father who created every bit of this that I would call Spectacular. Yesterday at church there was a guest speaker who suggested the deadliest thing to the human heart is pride. As with everything, there are two sides to every story and I am feeling prideful today. Proud of God and His imagination, proud to be called His daughter. Honored to be included in this incident of Beauty.

I pressed on in my expedition, not sure of what I was looking for but certain it was not yet time to turn back and immensely enjoying the time alone to think and listen. And then I found it. To a runner, this would simply be another large rock. To an explorer, this was a jewel. I started toward the formation and noticed a descent size hole. Hoping I might fit through it, I ducked and crawled. Caught off-guard by the slippery algae-covered other side, I almost went swimming, which reminds me- never leave home without your chacos! As I attempted to regain my composure, I felt a little bit like the Little Mermaid experiencing her first few awkward steps on human legs.

I began to breathe deeper and truly take in where I was. Inches away from the sound and spray of rolling and crashing waves, there was a sense of awe combined with this fragility of life. And still this place I call Peace.

religion and politics

recently Kristyn and I have received the occasional forward asking us as "Christians" to act a certain way because of the current political activities making our news.

without giving my support to either candidate all i can do is quote my professor of Preaching and Scripture, Dr. Gloer; when we spent a moment in class last week looking at Mark 12:12-15 he nonchalantly commentated, "Religion and politics always make strange bed fellows."

closed street

Kristyn and I live on a corner lot in semi-downtown Waco. Tuesday morning we awoke to a large crater in the street to the right of our house. As you might suspect the water main burst. The city accordingly closed the block that was affected.

It just so happens that the street that needed to be closed is subject to a lot of through traffic day and night. After the water main was fixed the city has left the road closed and has elected to make a throughway for people who live directly on the affected street, a total of three homes. With the opening for these citizens the city has created a s-turn with cones blocking off the two entrances and guarding the unfinished street repair.

This morning as I sat on our front porch watching the black birds enjoy the due filled grass, I noticed the how different cars approached the closed street. Some saw the sign and cones and elected to take a detour. Others slowed down enough to observe the sign, look around to see who's watching, then proceed to enter the closed block to emerge free on the other side of the s-turn. Lastly, there is a group of drives that observed the sign and cones enough to swing their vehicle around the apparent obstacle course. All three types of people saw the warning signs; some changed direction, some drove slowly though hoping not to get caught, while others drove though with no regard to the closer or danger.

What does this say about life? Do we observe warning signs? Can we even see the warning signs? Are we so focused on getting to where we wish to be that the signs are but a blur as we curve around the obstacle?