Sunsets

Right now I'm sitting at my kitchen table. I have a quasi-cold cup of coffee and ten pages about Emily Dickinson that need editing. The to-do list got so long this week that I stopped adding to it and I've been capitalizing on the newly-engaged status to win neck-rubs for stress knots. Seems like a bad moment to get back to blogging right? Or not.

I'm sitting facing the door of the Cran. In the backyard behind me the sun is setting--which in Kansas means its beautiful and pink and wintery. There is a little girl in a pink and purple coat running around the backyard and with her is her overgrown, quasi-awkward father. They have sticks. Her stick is short and proportional to her body. His is longer. They go to fight dueling sword style but she gets frustrated and makes him break his stick so that their respective weapons will be equal. The moment that he goes to fight with her she squeals and runs away. Now they run over the yard laughing and yelling and I find myself giggling because I remember doing this with my dad. In this moment as I'm giggling I have just an instant of crystallizing awareness: life can be so stressful and given enough stress I start to have tunnel vision--all I focus on is the to-do's and making sure I'm not forgetting or offending or slap-dashing. I don't know about you, but if I do this for very long, I stop having fun and everything in life starts to become one giant to-do list to be crossed off.

But wait a minute. Right now, literally in front of me, a little girl is squealing and giggling over a stick and her father's love. No trappings, no trimmings, just straight joy over relationships. That's pretty nice to remember.

The one where she blogs about blogging

Yes, it's a meta-post I'm making. This week in a class o'mine we had to write a "literacy narrative" which is a fancy way of explaining how we learned to read, why we like to read, and why we think reading is important/why we're English majors. Yes, my major is hard. We had to turn this narrative in as in digital form (as a blog) and incorporate digital aspects into it (that's pictures for you more technical folks who might be getting impressed.) I enjoyed this assignment thoroughly and I thought I'd share the finished product with you all.

keepthelightsburning.weebly.com

The One Where I Lived the Dream

When I was a little girl, one of my favorite books of all time was a James Harriot story called "The Christmas Day Kitten." In this story, a little kitten shows up at a lonely lady's home on Christmas morning. I was always drawn to the way how sad both the lady and the kitten were at the beginning of the book and how happy they made each other at the end. I think I thought it was cool that they were able to help each other and make life easier.

This week. Yesterday to be exact. I actually watched this story take place FOR REAL. I was walking from Murphy Hall (music building) to Watson (library).... no wait, back up. A few weeks ago, I was sitting on campus outside enjoying the day when I was certain I saw a kitten go running by. I dismissed it though because, well, why would there be cats on campus? Back to real time. Yesterday as I was doing my late afternoon walk, I saw a very old lady sitting in the middle of the sidewalk next to a bush. I was confused at first. Then I saw her take food out of her bag and push it into the bush. Naturally I stopped. What could she be doing? I wondered.

I perched myself next to her on the sidewalk and asked her this question. She laughed and pointed into the bush. There I saw, not one, but four cats. A huge, lusciously white tom cat. A small, prim, gray tabby. And two beautiful, sleek kittens. They stared back out at me with as much astonishment that I had found their hiding place as I had in seeing them.

How long has they lived here? I asked. And then Carol (our cat-rescuer's name) began to tell me about a winter ten years ago when she was walking around campus on Thanksgiving. During this particular walk, she noticed a little calico cat following her crying. Upon closer examination, she realized that the cat was pregnant, and so very hungry. So she carried the kitty, which she named Lady, home to feed and care for. And so began this process which has led to ten years of carrying food and shelter to these tiny cats who, instead of living ferral homeless lives, have found themselves the most loving and compassionate mother imaginable.

I Started Lookin For Excuses

I have a confession to make to you friends. I have been putting this post off for multiple reasons.

First. MAN I don't want to have to account for the past five months of my life outside of this

Second. I have been lacking vision for what to write about. Let's shoot for more than just random words which we throw up on the screen.

Third. It was summer. And let's be real, summertime is not the time for sitting introspectively in front of a computer screen. It's the time to be laying in a field full of grass dreaming about cloud men and the future and doing greatly enormously amazing things with our lives. Summer is a time for dreaming, not for doing. And friends, I dreamed this summer. I also did stuff, but mostly, I climbed onto the lazy river float and just went with the current. It was a delight to stop paddling for a while and to let the river carry me.

But now we're back. It's fall. I have been overcome by the desire to drink hot apple cider and to eat pumpkin pie. I have broken out the sweaters and jeans. And I have jumped out of the lazy river and into the big kid pool -- you know, the one with high dives and crazy older kids who know how to do cool backflips. This metaphor is breaking down, but you catch my meaning I'm sure.

So since we're jumping into new things, why not jump into some new blogging? Let's share this fall and enjoy the passing of seasons and days together. I promise to write you long epistles about the cool books I'm reading and happenstances, and you can promise me to send me long epistles about your fantastic adventures. What fun! If summer is the time for sprawling and dreaming, then fall is the time for energy and color and delight as the air gets crisper and the world comes alive with brilliance for one last Tango before winter.

The sun is a prodigal one.

These past few weeks tiny tiny things have helped me to realize God's presence: a kind man who helps me with my car-trouble; seeing goldfinches who play in the rain when I know that logically goldfinches aren't really lawrencian natives; feeling the financial crunch and getting a check in the mail; crying real, honest, cleansing tears and then standing up and walking on in faith; buying the first watermelon and blueberries of the season; picnics and slushies in the quicktrip parking lot; sunsets; literal green pastures; finding exactly the research I need in exactly the amount of time I have; and on and on the list goes. These things aren't exactly earthshattering, and they're not the kind of thing you make reality christian TV about, but in these past weeks of stress and worry they have spelled the difference for me between alone and loved.

Last night I was reading from one of my favorite ladies, Carole Mayhall, and she talked of the extraordinary in among the ordinary: those brief moments when the curtain is pulled back to reveal eternity. We can't live in the eternal right now, but sometimes, and I think it's most often when we are pressed down by life's circumstances, God generously pulls back the curtain to reveal himself and to encourage us that he IS. He is present and working even when it seems that the world around us is crumbling just a bit; he reveals the eternal and gives us a helping of perspective so that we will be enabled to keep walking.

"In the bustle of brimming-full days, when I hear only strident voices and roaring engines, God's meadowlarks keep singing. But how can my heart be cheered, or my soul be stirred, or my spirit be lifted in joy, when I don't hear? How can he lead me beside the still waters when I've kicked into passing gear in the fast lane of life? How can God restore my soul when I don't take time to sit at the feet of Jesus?"
-- Carole Mayhall

It seems as though it ultimately comes down to my heart's attitude toward Jesus. I run and I rush because I want to be in control, but in those little moment's he tenderly reminds me that what he really longs for is me. Me, sitting at his feet confiding in him as he reveals himself to me. And in that moment I am free and content and all of these things, the worries, the finals, the problems, come into the focus of his presence and his power.

Shenandoah!

One of the perks of working at the stereotypical downtown coffee shop is having a piano that cool music students come in and play. It's like having a perpetually changing live soundtrack to work to. One guy plays "on the street where you live," another plays "blue moon," it's always wonderful. Today's person was a guy who, I think, may actually the male form of Ann. The entire time that he was playing his emotion just poured through his music. Part of the way into his little practice session, he played the theme song to a western that I LOVED as a little girl. I couldn't help it, I had a spontaneous happy moment while I listened and as I was having this happy moment I happened to look up and see a tiny old man having the exact same happy moment. He pointed into the air and said "Shenandoah" and then we were friends. How nice to remember that all it takes is something as small as a cheesy western song to make new friends!

"Breathed Immortal Love"

This week we are reading Milton's Paradise Lost, a book which is about as widely recognized as the Iliad or the Bible. We all know OF it, but few of us have actually taken the time to slow down and understand it. However, some of us (namely me) are currently getting the chance to do this under the guise of getting good grades. Tonight is Passover, but I have spent a good portion of it at home finishing homework. Not exactly the most spiritual idea ever, but God is good and he is faithful to meet us where we are. I opened up my homework assignment in Paradise Lost to Book III or the great consult of heaven. In this, Milton imagines that God, father and son, are sitting in heaven surveying for the first time the beauty of creation when they perceive that Satan is flying towards this glorious creation. Understanding immediately what is going to happen the Father speaks to the Son of the implications that Adam will most certainly fall and that there must be atonement for Adam's fall. He explains that because Adam will be deceived, he will receive grace, but that he [God] is fundamentally just and so there must also be the satisfaction of Adam's debt. All of these ideas are familiar to Christians as we have heard this since kindergarten Sunday school. What is not familiar is the idea that BEFORE Adam sinned, God knew. BEFORE Adam strayed, Christ had made a way for his redemption. The part of this narrative which leaves us, as readers, in awe is the descriptions which Milton provides of Jesus, son of God, and the dialogue which takes place to secure man's safety. Let me share just a few with you, I know they're long and in virtually a different language, but take a few moments over these next couple of days, not to read my words, but to imagine with me what has taken place in heaven and on earth to bring us to this day where we can stand redeemed and glorified:

Beyond compare the Son of God was seen
Most glorious. In Him all His Father shone
Substantially expressed and in His face
Divine compassion visibly appeared:
Love without end and without measure grace.

Man disobeying
Disloyal breaks his fealty and sins
Against the high supremacy of Heav'n,
Affecting godhead, and so, losing all,
To expiate his treason hath naught left
But to destruction sacred and devote
He with his whole posterity must die.
Die he or justice must, unless for him
Some other able and as willing pay
The rigid satisfaction, death for death.
Say, Heavn'ly Pow'rs, where shall we find such love?
Which of ye will be mortal to redeem
Man's mortal crime and, just, th' unjust to save?
Dwells in all Heaven charity so dear?

This desperate searching of heaven reveals absolute and utter silence. None are willing to subject themselves to the wrath and pain necessary to redeem creation's mistakes, your mistakes, my mistakes. But then a voice rises over the deafening silence:
Father, Thy word is past: MAN SHALL FIND GRACE!
... Behold Me then, Me for him, life for life,
I offer. On me let thine anger fall.
...I shall rise victorious and subdue
My vanquisher, spoiled of his vaunted spoil.
Death his death's wound shall then receive and stoop
Inglorious, of his mortal sting disarmed.
I through the ample air in triumph high
Shall lead Hell captive maugre Hell and show
The pow'rs of darkness bound. Thou at the sight
Pleased, out of Heaven shalt look down and smile
While by thee raised I ruin all my foes,
...then with the multitude of my redeemed
Shall enter Heav'n long absent and return,
Father, to see Thy face wherein no cloud
Of anger shall remain but peace assured
And reconcilement. Wrath shall be no more
Thenceforth but in Thy presence joy entire.

And so in a burst of immortal love so deep, so innate, that it is the very breath of who He is, our security is made sure before we have even erred. And all of heaven breathes a sigh of relief for:

Heav'nly love shall outdo hellish hate,
Giving to death and dying to redeem
(so dearly to redeem) what hellish hate
So easily destroyed and still destroys
In those who, when they may, accept not grace.

And for this act of selflessness, our humiliation is taken from us and we can stand, confident, bold, and joyful in the presence of the very one whose wrath would have assured our destruction, finding on his face no trace of the anger which was once directed toward us. And on the face of the one towards whom the anger actually was directed we find no trace of regret, rather pure, radiant joy that we would approach him and stand with him before the father in the victory of light over darkness.

The birds and the bees, or how a wasp can teach you about peace

So this week in my peace and conflict studies class we are talking about mutually assured destruction, deterrence theories, appeasement theories, disarmament and on and on toward our ever raised goal of peace and nonviolence. Exciting right? Ok, not really. Especially not when it's a glorious spring afternoon and the LAST thing you want to think about is a bunch of dead guy's approaches to nuclear warfare while the world around you is bursting into life. What relevance do dead guys have to life now? Great question!

Spurred by the nice weather, I decided that it would be a great idea to sit on my porch and do homework in the sunshine. It was. Unfortunately, there is a rather large, ferocious family of wasps who have also claimed my porch as their own seeing as how it really is a lovely spot. My first girlish instinct when I saw the wasps was to grab the can of RAID and try to kill them. My second instinct was to stop and watch them. Bad idea. Somehow in those split seconds I managed to personify the wasps and give them great characteristics. All of the sudden the lead wasp was providing for his family by building them a home in the best spot that he could find: a sunny porch overlooking some flowering trees. He looked absolutely delighted as he scurried around and all of the sudden I didn't want to kill him, I wanted to name him (Stephen!) I came to the compromise that I wouldn't hurt him if he wouldn't hurt me. This proceeded quite well until he noticed that I was sitting there. At first he seemed fine and I felt confident in our mutual agreement to be non-combatants. However, he got increasingly agitated, eventually taking a few swoops in my direction. Now I came to a point of decision: do I stand by my principles and leave my wasp friend to his own devices, or do I kill him to make sure that I stay comfortable and unstung?


Friends, this is exactly what we are studying and will continue to be studying until the end of time in PCS classes. At what point does turning the other cheek become ludicrous? We vow peace, we vow to disarm, we vow to leave the countries around us to their own business, we vow to make the world a better place, but these vows are only as meaningful as the least common denominator, in my case: a wasp. You see, peace is dependent on individual hearts which makes it both the most beautiful thing to behold, and the most tenuous thing to accomplish. I don't have an answer for how to do this, but in the meantime it is a good and worthwhile thing to think about where we stand and what it is that we want to see. The wasp is a silly example, but then, I think that peace and hope start in our ability to see the small things and grow from them.

The Rain Rain Rain Came Down Down Down

Everyone should live in a small town during the springtime. There is a phenomenon which takes place the first time the sun shines on our little hibernating town when suddenly everyone comes out of hibernation together and it is as though all of people on the street with me are suddenly my friends. We smile at each other, we compliment the other's sunny dress or cheerful shoes and scarf. The flowers burst out in magnificent colors and the trees match the flowers in cheerful shades of green. It is hard to believe that a month ago we rushed to our cars in coats and frowns when all around us the world is almost dancing with excitement and new life. I have never experienced such a glorious and long-awaited spring. I feel almost as though I'm in a movie some days as I rush around trying to soak up as much sunlight as possible, unable to wipe the cheesy grin off of my face, only to see it reflected in the people around me as we conspiratorially remind each other that this is why we live in the midwest: so that we can experience the sheer, unadulterated delight and anticipation of changing seasons. We dream of corn on the cob, late night bonfires, afternoons by the pool, shorts, sandals, popsicles, late night walks under the stars, barbecues, homemade ice cream, naps, hammocks, picnics, and on and on the list goes getting longer with each passing day. In this whole week, two people have especially gotten how I feel: Emily Dickinson and Jim Croce. Laugh if you will, but their words have echoed and echoed through my mind as I've flitted through the sunshine. Listen to what they say and see if the words don't echo a little through your mind as you also experience this process of thawing out...

A light exists in spring
Not present on the year
At any other period.
When March is scarcely here

A color stands abroad
On solitary hills
That science cannot overtake,
But human nature feels.

It waits upon the lawn;
It shows the furthest tree
Upon the furthest slope we know;
It almost speaks to me.

OR


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=USVvxcaa4OA&feature=related

Make what you will of them, but then also tell me that you don't feel the same sense of longing for meaning and beauty and sincerity as you watch the world around you bursting into life!

Homeless Happiness

How about switching things up a bit and having a few pictures to tell the story of this spring break??? It was truly homeless happiness where I spent my time between Lawrence, Kansas City, and Hutchinson. It has been an incredible time of relaxing, breathing deeply, and rehumanizing after the rush and fluster of the semester so far.

- Beth and I posed with some quasi-graffiti to support the notion of alternative artwork... or something like that...


- Beth did a photo shoot of Paul and I where we posed for some classic cheesy shots.



- Beth and Paul visited me in Lawrence and we checked out some local flavor in the form of frozen yogurt. Delish!



- Beth and I explored some bookstores in downtown KC where I found delight in the form of an original Fitzgerald, some obscure C.S. Lewis, and oh yes, some Gordimer! So amazing!!!

- We also checked out the local vintage scene so now we are ready for prom.... or at least we think so!



- We had another little photo shoot by Memorial Arch soaking up the sunshine and the joy of springtime. (yes, the theme of photoshoot runs through my time with Beth, but I can't complain since now I have pictures to share!)

Honorable mention should go toward the joy of spending time with old friends, and making new friends. The notion of late night coffee runs, walks under the stars, driving tractors, playing King Oil, laughing, sleeping, catching up, eating and eating and eating, baking food and delicious deserts, and on and on and on. I feel human again!

You Could be Happy

Mmmmmmm, can you feel that??? Can you hear it? Turn up your face? I bet you feel it too. Thawing... This afternoon I went with my girls to downtown where we giggled like school girls over ice-cream toppings, danced in the gazebo, swung on swings like little children, rode on Lyle the Crocodile, and planned which cute little house we were going to fix up to live in. Why the sudden joy-filled afternoon? Simple: it's springtime!!! Layers and layers of wintertime coldness and introversion is coming undone like a new little blossom in me while I feel myself thaw out, my toes see the sunshine, my body embraces the first few freckles of spring. Oh this is a good day.

I was looking for a picture to represent this moment of winter turning into spring, and I found another lady's blog where she was talking about why it was important to take a moment to swing. Ladies and gentlemen, it IS important. How often do we find ourselves caught in a routine which is necessary, but totally unstimulating. Successful, but not joyful. Today, we are given the perfect excuse to get out of this humdrum routine. IT IS SPRING! Let it go. Let the worries, let the cares, let it all go, put on those shorts or that skirt and SWING. You won't regret it and I am willing to be that you won't be able to stop smiling in the process. You might even find yourself giggling a little to yourself. This is your moment, this is your day. Embrace the sunshine. I give you permission! In the words of my friend Louis: "grab your coat and get your hat, leave your worries on the doorstep, life can be so sweet, on the sunny side of the street!"

Taking the A Train

I have intentionally NOT been blogging these past weeks because I have not know what to say. My life has been overtaken by turmoil, whirling thoughts, secret dreams, unsureness, deep hope, profound uncertainty; at the same time both joy/excitement for the future and absolute unsureness for what is coming. The only constant in my life these days is change. I have lived in a glorious period of not making decisions these past months but now it seems that miles of decisions are stretching out in front of me. Where to from here? What do I want to be when I grow up? What does it mean to follow Jesus in a job? Should I stay close to home or strike out in faith? What role does fear play in this? How do I turn the nebulous concepts which I study into reality and goals and visions? What does it mean to trust Jesus with the future while at the same time trying to be responsible with the gifts and talents and resources which he has given me? These and thousands of other questions play in one long anthem through my mind as I study, play, work, and live. The truth being that I don't know the answers.

Wisdom is around though, and there's a lovely lady named Elisabeth Elliot whose words have been giving so much hope as I wrestle with how to approach the future. With a broad brush she paints the image of me walking hand in hand with Jesus in humble obedience to his call on my life. Right now, that call is school. It's showing up with my homework done, it's making his presence a tangible reality through latte art, it is saying "yes" to the job or person who my heart secretly wants to say "no" to, it's responding with "yes" when I can and responding in trust when I don't know what else to do. My heart is not exactly overjoyed by this. I long so badly to know what the future holds. I want to have the five-step plan. But I don't. I probably won't. I don't know what to do, but I know who does and he has asked me to trust him. Can I do anything else by respond in "Yes" and "amen?"

So while I'm responding in yes and amen, I have been making a list of the joyful little happenings in my life:

-mustaches on valentines day.
-bells in the campanile which sounds the Sound of Music
-a campus with old trees that can be sat under Winnie the Pooh style
-a house where sunshine pours through bedroom windows during nap time
-picnics in the park in February
-the world's greatest smallgroup, whose hearts are desperate for the love of Jesus
-enemies who become your friends
-basketball teams that win
-creating the perfect foam for a latte
-sunshine and blueberry scones on Saturday mornings
-studies which inspire me to search for Jesus
-books that make me stop and ponder
-seeing circumstances interwoven with lessons of faith
-hope that this is all leading somewhere
-lakes frozen over so that you can walk on them
-building snowmen on said lakes
-climbing trees
-laughing until it hurts
-sweatshirts and flannel on cold days
-getting homework done through what feels like a miracle
-long coffee chats with old friends
-long ambling walks to listen to the stillness of a winter sunset
-the ability to pray and know your prayers are answered
-and on and on and on.

Unfortunately homework calls and I should answer. Thank you for reading!

Some Kind of Wonderful

Well, well, well. Somehow time manages to fly by and days turn into weeks which turn into months. Nevertheless, I'm back at the kitchen table dreaming of spring while a blizzard threatens to rage outside. Dinner is simmering on the stove, and I'm feeling delightfully reflective which is usually what happens when I want to avoid finishing homework. This Christmas was so far beyond the most wonderful thing I could imagine. If a picture is worth a thousand words, then the picture I'm posting perfectly describes Christmas this year: rest, joy, beauty, plus 997 other positive adjectives. Over break I was a tourist in Chicago, a dear friend in Nebraska, a really really welcomed family member in Kansas City, an heiress cruising to Europe, a timid bride from India contemplating marriage, a prairie girl trying to make it through blizzards, a motherly babooshka looking after her small flock, a rich young lady refurbishing a farmhouse in Vermont, an aspiring opera singer, and so so so very much more! With my sisters, our imaginations ran wild and we went everywhere, where everything, and loved every moment of it.

Coming back from break I get to experience a whole new world: new classes, new relationships, new job, new thoughts, ideas, hopes, dreams. Some of which are unexpected, and some of which I've anticipated for as long as I can remember. The overarching thought though, is one of sheer joy. I have marveled these past weeks of change that God can grant me so much joy in the midst of such upheaval in my life. Being the self-proclaimed person of comfort and normalcy, it's hard to believe that I live the life which I do. But there is something greater than me at work these days. Someone tells me each morning that He's got me, that I can just jump out of bed and run knowing that He is waiting for me as I take each new step, walking next to me through it all.

This afternoon I read the words:
"Shout it aloud, do not hold back!
...if you spend yourselves in behalf of the hungry
and satisfy the needs of the oppressed,
then your light will rise in the darkness,
and your night will become like the noonday.
The LORD will guide you always;
He will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land
and will strengthen your frame.
You will be like a well-watered garden,
like a spring whose waters never fail.
Your people will rebuild the ancient ruins
and will raise up the age-old foundations;
you will be called Repairer of Broken Walls,
Restorer of Streets with Dwellings."

What a reminder to press forward without fear. This is not all there is, we are running a race whose end we can see - - a race where we are the victors and nothing can stand in our way. We are not the master of our fate, nor are we responsible for our circumstances. Our responsibility is, rather, to live in consciousness of the world around us, to pour ourselves out for our brother, our sister, our neighbor, to let our gentleness (and love) be evident to all. Then, we don't have to fear the change, the poor circumstances, the loss of what we hold familiar or dear because we are preciously aware that this is not the sum-total of who we are. These things are gifts, which bless us abundantly, but which don't ultimately define us.