Let us Rise, to the Occasion

And he departed from our sight

This morning, before the rising of the sun, Ginger, Sara and I rose.

We slathered cream cheese on bagels, 

and poured ourselves strong coffee.

We climbed into Ginger's Jeep.

And we went looking.

Driving through our sleepy town, the sky pink around its mountain edge with the promise of the sun, 

lost in our own thoughts,

we arrived here, looking for the sun to rise, 

to settle over us in its daily resurrection song.

But the clouds held our eyes, and all we saw was gray.

that we might return to our heart

So we sat together,

 fed ourselves;

 we talked quietly,

and watched the birds and chipmunks play.

and there find Him. 

But our looking incomplete, our hearts still lost in morning fog,  

we turned ourselves to the story of what the day is said to hold.

And there, we found Him;

we met Him in the Garden, we heard Him call our name.

For He departed, and behold, He is here.

~St. Augustine

And then we talked with Him, and listened to Him be our Sun, 

who Rose, with healing in His wings.

But for you, who revere my name, the Sun of Righteousness will rise with healing in His wings.

And then, having found Him, we went to church to celebrate, with the full worship of our hearts. With deep deep tears of knowing: He is the One we've been looking for, He is our victorious One.

Because clouds could not hold Him, and neither could death.

He, here.

And you will go out and frolic

Later, 

we arrived back at our home,

ready to revel in good company, 

over delicious food,

prepared by many hands.

like calves let out to pasture

We sat comfortably together, we ate with gratefully quiet joy.

We talked, we remembered, we laughed.

We looked for the Sun to Rise, we listened for Him to sing over us His daily Resurrection song.

like well-fed calves.
~Malachi 4:2

And then, we ate dessert.

Two desserts.

In the fullness of His Rising, on this Resurrection Day,
we rose to the Occasion.


For I am come that they may have life 
and have it to the full.
~John 10:10

All Because.

The one on the left is new; 

the one on the right--

is 80!!!!

Yesterday I took a dissertation break, 

 and drove to my aunt's in order to gather with family 

and to celebrate.

We enjoyed just being together, 

with time to make a little music,

and to get re-united.

There was even time for me to take this little guy aside,

and to tell him all about his mama, 

when she was just his size.

 [The disclosures were shocking,

but by the end we were good friends.]

And, in the midst of it all,

we did a lot of laughing,

 we did a lot of remembering,

we did a lot of celebrating,

all because of this incredible lady.

 

We love you Grandma, 

and loved having a day to celebrate you!

Surely.

Sort of like monsoon season, 

Dissertation Season is upon me in fullness.

My calendar's mapped out, every moment is accounted for.

I've told all of my friends: I'll see you in May.

This dissertation is a beast.

And I am a tender, vulnerable, terrified little lamb.

Yet, somehow, the beast is not devouring me...

...Let me tell you why.

~~~~

Earlier last week I noticed something:

When I brought home the darling on the left, it reached out its arms to me, looking for my love.

But, by the next day?

It had figured out I was not the source of its strength, nor was I likely to sustain it well.  And so, it turned its arms to the Source of all Strength, to the Sustainer of all created things.

I looked at that precious thing, reaching out for Light, 

and something inside of me called out:

Do that.  Reach out, for the One.

So, I did. 

In the deepest places of my heart, I spoke the truth of Psalm 17:

I call on you, my God, for you will answer me;
    turn your ear to me and hear my prayer.
Show me the wonders of your great love,
    you who save by your right hand
    those who take refuge in you from their foes.

And now, I am watching Him, showing me His wonders.

He is teaching me, 

leading me, showing me, helping me.

The One who provides for the birds of the air,

is providing for me.

The One who is a shelter and shade from the heat of the day, and a refuge and hiding place from the storm and the rain,

 is sheltering the tenderest, most terrified parts of me.

And He is saying:
It's time to tie together loose ends, it's time to end this Season well.

And so I can say, without fear, without doubt:

This dissertation might be a beast,

but I am feeling fierce.

Surely.

Opening my heart.

I have a bit of a history with all things green.  

The history is: They die.

For years I lived in a cycle of

|buy plant-kill plant-buy plant-kill plant|.

So, somewhere about awhile ago, I decided to gracefully bow out of the greenery scene. My heart had had enough. [Plus, I began to be afraid that some kind of green organization would come after me with allegations of abuse.]  

I carted away the remains.  I mourned.

The pots turned their backs on me and gazed longingly out of the window, at all of the greens living out their calling in flourish and fancy.

A few months went by and the pots and I got used to the silence.

But then, March happened, and March calls for new life.

So, today, in a Spring Break fit of over-confidence

I opened my heart.

I'll let you know how it goes.

To Hash Out Life, and then Re-Hash it, is to Live.

This past weekend found me bundled onto a bus, bulleting its way to NYC and to L & G.  With open arms they received me, and dumped me out at one of our favorites, for some of our favorite treats.

The nature of HOL is, after all, made up of favorites:

Eclectic scenery,

delicious drinks,

[Was it coincidence that the opening night of our HOL weekend was also dubbed National Margarita Day? Though we did not plan around 'National Margarita Day', it found out we consider HOL to be its unofficial spokesperson, and so it planned around us.]

brunch at Henri,

 walks about town,

Sweetleaf.

HOL by its very nature is also a weekend of dwelling.  Hence, Saturday afternoon found me wiped out and fast asleep on the couch while L & G read and a woman fell off her balcony.

[Yes. Near-death-experiences are not HOL by its very nature, but I did indeed awake to a woman screaming for help across the way, and spectators scrambling to figure out what to do.  Combined with my dreaming, it was a bizarre experience and--thanks to the fact that the balcony was not on a top floor--one that resolved simply and well.]

Rested and recovered [from shock],
the Saturday night of Winter HOL unfolds into a night of extravagance, where we make a point to celebrate, 

where dinner consists of ridiculousness,

and where conversation spins back over years together.

And though most HOL's involve a bit of Re-Hashing of past events, this year in particular was particularly poignant.  We spoke out loud about the HOL's shadowed by difficult realities. We laid them on the table with love, the kind of love that comes from walking through all seasons of life together.  We looked gently at each other, grateful that here we are, past the dark ones.  

And then, we ate dessert.

And were ridiculously happy.

[Have I mentioned that HOL is made up of food? Did I have to?]

Winter HOL is also a weekend of music, but this year we changed the scene from jazz clubs to Broadway,

 where we took part in the phenomenon that is Once,

and were charmed beyond words.

We returned home to a bit more music, a bit more dwelling, a bit more charm that does not need to be spoken, but which holds us, in our hearts.

Grateful kids, we are grateful.  [I, kids, am grateful.]

And so, the next morning we went to church to continue our gratitude, and to worship the God who holds us together, who keeps us during the dark seasons and rescues us with His Light.

And then we went in search of more light,

and found it at the Guggenheim,

where we delighted in yet another HOL favorite: 

reveling in genius and creative expression.

Then, aware that our time was drawing to a close,

 we finished out our hashing over Jackson Hole fare, 

and held on to what we could.

We need you HOL, to Hash and Re-hash this thing called life...

we'll see you again soon!

There's a dissertation rolling around in my head.

We're really in it now: The final chapter of the dissertation season.

The data is in, it's organized.  The proposal is back out, the notebook is full of sketches, the kitchen is full of treats.

Wait, what?

Yep, treats.

It turns out that my kitchen is a dissertation breeding ground,

as thoughts roll through my head and bread rolls out of my oven.

Eventually those thoughts make their way to the dining room table [along with the treats...] and then:

My brain gets tired.

But, at least my tummy is full....