Scattered


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My thoughts have been extra scattered lately, therefore, bulletpoints.

  • The God we serve works His restoration in the context of relationship, and therefore it follows that our faith is lived out in that same context. God’s love for us, our love for God, and our love for  each another is expressed within community as we grow together and build each other. (That’s where the encouragement comes in)
  • Isolation is a form of division. It’s also selfish. And stupid. Disembodied arms aren’t terribly effective. They just kind of sit there and stink and rot and stuff.
  • God created us with the intention of allowing us to be creative with our lives, just as He is creative. (It’s that whole idea of ‘created in His image’)
  • Paradigms are hard to rebuild and restructure, and sometimes the God we were taught to follow looks a bit different from the God we discover in living life away from that with which we are familiar.
  • God values the honesty of His people. Take a look at Moses for that one: Moses mastered the art of the honest prayer and told God exactly what He was thinking. One particular exchange between them in Numbers 16 is especially beautiful to me. Go read it… See for yourself.
  • The point of the story is the point of the story. When the point of the story becomes the pursuit of the minuscule, time is wasted. Sometimes those minuscule things are important, but that doesn’t make them the point. (I’ve spent a lot of time learning this one over the last 6 months.)

Communion


“So, you bring all your history, I’ll bring the bread and wine
Oh, and we’ll have us a party where all the drinks are on me.” 

Derek Webb

Henderson, Tennessee was covered in ice on Sunday, and getting to church wasn’t terribly plausible. Some friends of a friend suggested that a few of us meet together for worship. We ended up worshiping together for almost three hours after which we moved the party to McDonald’s. It reminded me of camp back in 2012 when we sat around and told the story of Jesus and passed  bread and juice while we did so. It was a time of family, and it looked like what the world should look like all the time — People from several backgrounds, with different ideology, living different stories, stopped for a moment and intersected each others’ stories and shared a beautiful experience with a beautiful Jesus. I’m telling you, that room smelled like Jesus.

As I sat in the room absolutely caught up in the Wind that was obviously blowing as the unplanned service moved from thing to thing flawlessly and effortlessly amid copious amounts of laughter, words formed for the end of a poem I had started a few days earlier but hadn’t finished because the words that came out at the beginning weren’t what I intended them to be.

Communion

Life is a story full of mountaintops

And gashes formed in plummeting from the heights

To a certain supposed death

But along the way, and despite the bruises

We become subject to the art of sacrifice

We submit to the art of servanthood

On the mountaintops ans etched into the scars

Are brothers and sisters and love

And written on those etchings

Is the very name of Jesus:

The Unity that binds us

The definition of eternal life

Our life’s desperate pursuit

So, break bread with me

As we break ourselves to love

And pour out this wine with me

As we shed our hearts together

Come walk in Love with me.

Brave.


Brave

I want to be brave: brave enough to look at the disgusting things straight in the eye, brave enough to approach the monsters that look too scary to face, brave enough to live a beautiful story worth living.

I want to have courage enough to hurt in order that I may love, because love is not easy — it’s excruciating.

This story I am living is bigger than keeping people happy, it’s bigger than following authority, it’s bigger than being careful, it’s bigger than being watched and keeping in line.

Life is something wonderful that was created to be shared, and I don’t just want to share the pretties. I want to share the struggles and bumbles. Truth is, what I am living is messy. I don’t want order, I want beauty.

The beautiful part is this: In the mess, in the struggles and bumbles, I’m just struggling to figure this thing out, and frankly, I don’t always do such a great job of it, nor am I usually beautiful on my own. I wake up some mornings and want to kill my roommate for leaving a wet loofah on the sink in our room. Some days, I just don’t want to do what I have to do. Some days, I let a bad test score or someone laughing at me for the fact I’m praying for my mother who had bronchitis completely destroy my day. On those days, when I can’t see past myself, I pray that God will give me enough of His strength and grace to be beautiful in spite of myself.

Life is a challenge and a struggle. I intend to live it with all that I’ve got for the sake of loving and looking like Jesus, and bringing the Kingdom here: my life’s purpose is not to impress anyone.

I miss you.


Today is just one of those days where I generally miss everything that’s not in sight. I realized this while looking through some of my sister’s pictures from this summer. She and her kiddos and husband went camping with our parents and siblings. Looking at those pictures made me realize how much I miss camping with my family.

I also realized that tomorrow is the 16th. Tomorrow marks a month since I’ve seen this guy:

 

 

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I miss him quite a bit.

It’s been even longer since I’ve seen all my lovely ladies

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And as weird as it probably sounds, I miss my cat, too. IMG_0052

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Like I said… Just about everything not in sight.