I can't decide if busyness is good or bad. I know it depends on what kind of busyness, but in general, regardless of whether it was for the good or not, I find myself exhausted in the aftermath, wishing I had sat across the table from more friends, cooked more meals, read more books to children, and read more books of my own. I don't mind all busy days--they often are filled with good, meaningful things. But when you start to feel like your life is one whirlwind... that's hard.
So once again, my obsession with labeling everything right or wrong/good or bad has failed. But I'm glad tomorrow isn't busy!
//
Halloween today. We're going to a "no costume, no entry" party, so we've got to find something homemade (and cheesy, preferably) to be before 7pm tonight. Before that, though, I get to hang out with kids from other parts of the world, which is going to be a b-l-a-s-t! Cam (from Refugee Empowerment Program) asked me if I'd like to help take kids to the children's carnival at 2nd Presbyterian Church, and I am totally in. Fun times will be had...
//
If you're interested, here's what I'm reading: "Animal, Vegetable, Miracle" by Barbara Kingsolver; and "Freedom of Simplicity" by Richard Foster. We're gearing up for a community garden in the Spring, all-organic (or as close as you can possibly, technically, be "all organic") and the sheer simplicity that comes with that. You might not think tilling the soil and tending the veggies is easy, but we know simple and easy are not the same. What's more simple than this? Plant it, take care of it, watch is grow, eat it. God designed some beautiful things, and producing fruit from the earth is one of them.
Oh and today is one of the other most beautiful things...
Friday, October 31, 2008
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
the first anniversary
Well, the one year wedding anniversary is behind us, but another is approaching: One year since I inquired about this job. I have an email dating 11/27/07, the day I received the full job description for Missions Associate at Christ United Methodist Church. One year since my prayer time was lengthened, and my stomach in knots over the decision at hand. One year since I began imagining (sadly) my life without Court Street. One year since I began preparing myself to say goodbye to Hattiesburg.
One year goes by so fast.
We sat in front of Andrew Peterson last night, listening to him share stories of newness and resurrection; He [God] really does make all things new. Gives us new songs to sing, new cities in which to call home, new friends to take care of (and to be taken care of by them).... all of these make up the new seasons of life.
I am amazed at the spoiled, selfish girl I can be. Some days it's all I can do to not imagine myself anywhere but here. The mountains of North Carolina. A home with Matt and Aislinn. Or even no place to call home but a travel trailer, guitar, and the open road with Jeff, Matthew, and Brian. Other days I am so sure that this season in Memphis is full and good and purposeful. Does everyone else find themselves feeling this way, that I somehow "deserve" to live in the mountains or something? What of those who are trapped in lives of abuse and poverty and misery? Or do I imagine their lives are misery? Have they discovered an even deeper understanding of fullness because of their circumstances?
This is just my stream of thoughts.
I was driving to Tupelo last night, and though we may not have the Autumn that other places do, our trees are in fact looking lovlier by the day as they change colors. Slowly but surely, just as our lives change.
There must be death in order to be life.
The seasons must change.
The jobs must end, and another begin.
He did not even spare himself.
Yes, there must be death in order to be life.
One year goes by so fast.
We sat in front of Andrew Peterson last night, listening to him share stories of newness and resurrection; He [God] really does make all things new. Gives us new songs to sing, new cities in which to call home, new friends to take care of (and to be taken care of by them).... all of these make up the new seasons of life.
I am amazed at the spoiled, selfish girl I can be. Some days it's all I can do to not imagine myself anywhere but here. The mountains of North Carolina. A home with Matt and Aislinn. Or even no place to call home but a travel trailer, guitar, and the open road with Jeff, Matthew, and Brian. Other days I am so sure that this season in Memphis is full and good and purposeful. Does everyone else find themselves feeling this way, that I somehow "deserve" to live in the mountains or something? What of those who are trapped in lives of abuse and poverty and misery? Or do I imagine their lives are misery? Have they discovered an even deeper understanding of fullness because of their circumstances?
This is just my stream of thoughts.
I was driving to Tupelo last night, and though we may not have the Autumn that other places do, our trees are in fact looking lovlier by the day as they change colors. Slowly but surely, just as our lives change.
There must be death in order to be life.
The seasons must change.
The jobs must end, and another begin.
He did not even spare himself.
Yes, there must be death in order to be life.
Thursday, October 2, 2008
what we once called home
This is it, the place I used to call home. We're in Waynesboro, visiting the 'rents, old friends, and the Family I'll never forget and never, ever replace. Yes, the Spiritual Warriors, as we've forever dubbed ourselves. My youth group from First United Methodist Church in Waynesboro. We weren't just a youth group, we were most suredly a family. We reminisced over lunch at Robinson St. together (where I highly recommend the gravy fries and chicken salad sandwich) about all the things that make Jeff insanely bored and out-of-place but like an enduring spouse, he.... endured.
It's good to be here with them, good to see them carrying on and living well and being faithful to the One.
But still, I know, that once you've left, it's hard to come back. Would we make it after being gone to Memphis? Could anyone take in our opinions and the way we dress and Jeff's love for imported beers (always in moderation, of course). I'm afraid we might be dubbed as too different... and for this, I just smile and consider myself very blessed to have grown up in such a safe place with loving people in the Family of God. But as Sara sings it (always so well)...
the places that used to fit me
cannot hold the things I've learned
and those roads were closed off to me
while my back was turned. [sara groves]
Still it's so good to be back....
It's good to be here with them, good to see them carrying on and living well and being faithful to the One.
But still, I know, that once you've left, it's hard to come back. Would we make it after being gone to Memphis? Could anyone take in our opinions and the way we dress and Jeff's love for imported beers (always in moderation, of course). I'm afraid we might be dubbed as too different... and for this, I just smile and consider myself very blessed to have grown up in such a safe place with loving people in the Family of God. But as Sara sings it (always so well)...
the places that used to fit me
cannot hold the things I've learned
and those roads were closed off to me
while my back was turned. [sara groves]
Still it's so good to be back....
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