Wednesday, December 26, 2012

Photo Fun

Confession:  Photo Booths are not one of my favorite things.

BUT:
this girl IS.

So, at her party?

I jumped right in.
And--though I hate to admit it--
I had a great time.
With these good friends...



...and with these women living life with me....






FUN.

Turning 30 Requires Celebrating!

Our Sara had a little birthday recently,
and we set ourselves out to celebrate.
Ginger and I slinked around behind her back all week,
making secret preparations at secret locations.

Then?
It was time.
We invited a small group of friends to a small dinner, where we talked and laughed and dwelt in warm feelings for the event and the girl bringing us all together.
Then, we returned to our house, which Sara had been banned from for the day, and where these secretly baked cakes were waiting patiently for people to descend, hungrily.

When they arrived they found a variety of things
that are near and dear to Sara's heart,
 like a note-writing station,
 a photo booth,
 good conversation,
 thoughtful gifts,
and games along a theme.

Since she was leaving for Rwanda the next day, Curt (the game master) and Katy Stu (who was absent but contributed her own masterful game ideas) put together Rwandan Survival type games.

We took it very seriously.

[Hooray!]
 There was a jewelry making contest,
a fire-building contest,
and a harvesting showdown.
There was even a demonstration of effective communication,
in the language of those Sara would soon be communicating with.  
Then, we showed her a little video we put together in one of her favorite styles: Gangnam.
 It. Was. Hilarious.

After all the hilarity had been had,
all the celebrating complete,

we gathered together, to document:
 Happy Birthday dearest friend,
we love you!

Monday, December 17, 2012

A lot like Love

This morning, with Christmas approaching, I am reading in the gospels, to remind myself of what Christmas is.  Except, it's not doing it for me.  I'm thinking:  Why does it matter, that Jesus was who he said he was, that the gospels say his birth was important?

And so I turn to Isaiah, because I know that he's the guy who explained it the best, the one who said: 'People, we need him to come, and to come in Power.  Look for him, wait.'

As I'm reading, I'm consistently confronted with the word--the concept, the idea--of justice.

And I think this is very timely, because this morning I also read an article about the shooting of children and teachers in Connecticut, and my stomach is hurting, oozing out tears.

Justice, indeed.  What does it even mean, in the face of such tragedy?

Isaiah says that God 'looked for justice, but saw bloodshed'; He 'looked for righteousness, but heard cries of distress'.

And in my heart, I rose up and said: 'God! Where is the bloodshed? Where are the cries of distress? Send me there!'

But in my reality, there I was still sitting in my chair.  Sitting in my chair, knowing that here is where I'm called to right now.  Thinking, 'How do I live out justice in my life, when bloodshed is not the reality in my daily walk, and when I've been taught to think that cries of distress occur only in third world countries, amid poverty, amid violence?'

What does it look like, to live in justice and righteousness--those things God is looking for in His people--what does it look like?

I go on with my morning, asking God this question.  I am saying to Him: I want to, but how?

And as I listen, I hear Him shift my perspective, to look at where He's put me, to see what's right in front of me.

I see inviting students into my home, during finals week, to feed them, to listen to their hearts, to say 'you're precious, you give me joy'.  I see rearranging my day to hang out with a friend's child, so that she can take care of pressing matters, when she's had a week that most of us cannot imagine the horror of.  I see reaching out to someone to say 'you're valuable', even when the message is not received, and the rejection feels like personal cost.  I see folding a housemate's laundry when she's had a long day.  I see being available for a friend's verbal processing, even when there are other things I need to do.  I see saying yes, when I'd rather say no.  I see looking for ways to love, by looking for the needs of the hearts around me.

I see:  It's in the deep places of our hearts that cries of distress live under the surface in more than one form.  Sometimes, those cries aren't even fully present, but are only seeds, waiting to decide which way they will grow. Watered with love, those seeds grow into fruit.  Watered with continual hurt, and the belief of being unseen? Bloodshed.

And so, suddenly, I receive the answer to my question: 
Justice in my life, it turns out, looks a lot like Love.

In my seeking for Christmas truth,  I discover that when Isaiah says that the coming One 'took up our infirmities', and  'carries our sorrows' he means that God's desire for Justice cannot be separated from His desire for Love. I discover that this is why it matters that Jesus is who he said he was, and this  is why Christmas is here.  Now.

Sunday, December 16, 2012

Christmas, in my living room

So, it's the season known as Christmas.  [Have you heard?]  My Christmas began the day after Thanksgiving when I arrived home to housemates and friend, ready to head on out, for a little tree-cuttin'.

We walked the rows of a nearby tree farm,

 until we found it,
the perfect one.
[We knew it was the one,
because it was glowing.]
 We cut it down,
we loaded it up.

We brought it home,
with song [yes, there was a serenade...],
with laughs,
with love.
We all felt very good about it.
[Especially our wanna-be lumberjacks...]

After Noel left us to move on with his evening,
 we made some hot toddies and lit that baby up,
with ribbons, 
with JOY.

Christmas, here, in my living room!