To See Things as They Really Are -or- Life After a Raspberry Mojito

Doing life with people is ramshackle and difficult. It's messy and confusing. But it can be beautiful, true, and God-in-flesh. It felt like this week was much more full of the former rather than the latter, but when I sit back and examine it, there were both huge highs and lows.

Some moments at work, dealing with a difficult parent and child, just tore me up emotionally. But sitting back on the other side of my week-ending, perfect raspberry mojito, I can see how God just screamed His glory through that situation, community caring for a member in need, my parent's visit, persistent prayers of a community, time with a friend, and a glimpse deeper into who He desires someone to be.

God, You are just SO big. I beg that You would allow me to see with Your eyes all those things that I disregard or wrongfully place in the column of negative experiences. Deepen my love for You and Your people.

Weary

Today was one of those long days that started out with bizarre, frustrating traffic early in the morning and just kept going. I felt off-kilter all day long and really had to fight for focus on the right things. It was one of those battle days that leave you exhausted in body and spirit. God, I need a deep drink of You right now.

Freedom

I had dinner with one of my roommates last night and she said something that I've been processing for the last 24 hours. She has some South Korean friends that believe that unity with North Korea will provide the best way for the gospel to move forward there. When pressed about the terms by which this unification would take place, even to the point of South Korea coming under the regime of Kim Jong-il and his policies, the Korean Christians were willing to give it all up for the sake of the cause of Christ.

My roommate and I sat and thought about the profundity of sacrifice that we perceive that to be. In America, where freedom is prized above all else, what has that freedom afforded us where Christianity is concerned? Has it made the gospel spread or has it lent itself to idleness, debauchery, and pressing farther away from God as a nation? Has the American Church become so diluted because of freedom? What does freedom mean in light of Philippians 2:1-11 for us and those Korean believers?

I know these are dangerous questions and ones to be pondered much longer than a day. Know that I'm coming from a perspective of a person who went to a very politically conservative Christian college, listens to talk radio, and usually votes Republican. Also know that I'm not quick to draw causation from isolated information.

All I know is I want to be more like Christ and who He sees me as. If that means rending all that I understand about what it means to be an American, then I must do it. I'm seeing more and more that viewing ourselves as a chosen nation is simply pompous.

Thankful Heart

I just enjoyed a really good Saturday, full of a random trip to Nantasket beach and yummy dinner with girlfriends. It was a really good day of taking the scenic drive to Hull, giving a tour of the South Shore to a native of Martha's Vineyard. It was pretty sweet seeing the tide roll in to completely swallow up the beach we were once laying on. We had some fantastic ice cream which we ate while watching crazy people play in the chilly breaking waves. Then it was off to a homemade dinner in Mission Hill with some lovely ladies. We shared books, conversation, music, a few beers, and God made Himself known.

Thanks Michelle and Carissa. Thanks God, for answering that prayer.

FastLane

You all know what I'm talking about...those "self-service" check-out kiosks that are now found everywhere from WalMart to Home Depot to the big grocery store chains. I really hate these things. I had a run-in with one just now that reminded me how annoyed I get with them. I won't even look at one at Home Depot since the thing will automatically start spurting out some error message once it detects my gaze.

Anyway, I had a weak moment at Shaw's tonight while picking up some yummy Dove ice cream (chocolate ganache!!) to nosh on while I listen to Joey's late night radio show. I just had the one thing, so you know, the self-service deal would be faster, right?

The answer is: No. First off, I waited for about 3-4 minutes for these women who were chatty Cathies to get through with their dueling purchases so another woman and I could use the adjacent machines. That was just a poor choice of venue on my part. Then it was my turn at checkout #14. I swipe my "rewards" card (aka you better use this or your groceries will cost twice the GDP of Nicaragua) and get some error about an 'unknown' item. I swipe it again. Same error. I figure I can ignore this and swipe the ice cream. Ice cream rings up ok. I press the button to finish. Swipe rewards card. It miraculously works this time. I get my debit card ready to go to make it all legal. THEN... You need assistance due to the 'unknown' item. Are there any employees manning the 6 self-service deals? No. Of course not. So I stand there, with red light blinking above said kiosk, frozen with debit card in hand, wondering if the ganache is worth this technological glitch. I stick it out, looking in vain for assistance. Finally a kindly elderly stocker sees some combination of my helpless expression and the blinking crimson orb and gets the attention of the "big shots" (his term). I fork over the funds (electronically, of course) and leave the store about 10 minutes later than I'd wanted to.

Moral: avoid the self-service line. Stop being an American for once and let someone else whom you already pay and who might know what they're doing take care of it for you.

Now, time for that Caramel Pecan Perfection....

The Pity Party is Over

I have officially landed in bad-attitude land. I want nothing more today than to sit on my butt in my pjs and do NOTHING at all, except maybe watch Lost for hours on end. My head hurts, I'm exhausted, and I would rather not teach autistic children for 4 hours this afternoon. I want to sleep and complain. I want to be completely unproductive. I want to not do the several various paperworky tasks that I'm either behind on or just avoiding. ARGH.

I am so lame. Just by the mere fact that I'm complaining about this stuff shows just how lame I am. Millions of people around the world never get a day of not working (aka weekend), let alone national holidays, or even jobs that can support them without working 12 hours (or more) a day. Those people struggle to feed themselves while my friends and I sat noshing next to a river for most of yesterday without even a second thought.

Life is just not a bed of roses today, but sometimes I've just got to fight for joy--to see the glimmer of hope, redemption, and resurrection that's told in every story, in every moment. That's my mission in life as an ambassador for Christ. Maybe missions is just about being that watcher who translates moments of pain, or exhaustion, or darkness, into hope.

Today I need to translate for myself.

Heart and Home

This was one of those nearly perfect weekends, filled with activity to the point of sweet exhaustion. I did more in the last three days than one can imagine, all the while renewing my love for a city that rarely fails to take my breath away. Renewing a passionate first love through the eyes of someone experiencing that love at first sight was pure breath into my lungs.

There's so many bits of this weekend that were God's hand at work, from the perfectly sunny nearly humidity-free 70s temperatures, to a 24-hr flight delay, to humbling mistakes, to missed Sox game shuttles, to late night conversations. I am thankful He was present here in every moment, even the ones that weren't "perfect" or holy. Those things were all knit together for our good and His glory.

God, thank you for people that love and surround me that respond to Your urging and voice. Thank you for opening a heart. Thank you for words You gave me to speak. Thank you for the humility You brought at the beginning to make those words possible. God, You are so good.