Reading: "Bird by Bird" [Anne Lamott]

From the introduction:

That thing you had to force yourself to do - the actual

act of writing - turns out to be the best part. It's like discovering

that while you thought you needed the tea ceremony for the caffeine,

what you really needed was the tea ceremony.

The act of writing turns out to be its own reward.

(Anne Lamott, "Bird byBird", emphasis mine)

If you spend any significant amount of time with me, you know that I love to write - my journal goes with me everywhere - and I'm giving myself more and more space to do it these days. Songwriting discipline, more frequent blogging, etc. But spend too much time writing, and I can easily convince myself it's stupid and meaningless.

Thank goodness for this introduction!

Memphis is not Vermont

...and never am I more aware of this than when it is 106 degrees Fahrenheit with a 121 heat index. And so, I will post some pictures to remind me of dear Vermont. [I still love you, Memphis.]

[baby Niyah and Auntie Abbye]

[statue of Jesus, welcoming people to this chapel built in the, seemingly, middle of nowhere. A popular stop for cyclists, as it is in the middle of a often-used trail.]

[Island Pond, VT]

our living room has a couch now: on selflessness

When you reach a certain point in marriage and still don't have children, you begin to hear more and more conversations about how children teach you how selfish you are, how they expose so many of your dark places. And I believe this is true (trust me, I knew my friends before they had children! Heh!)

But since we don't have children, this begs the question: are we doomed for endless days of selfishness until we have children? Are we not fully loving and fulfilling the potential God has for us? Why does marriage exist - solely for procreation and "learning how to be unselfish 101"?

We've thought about this; we talked about it. And now, here's a picture of a couch.

Right at 48 hours ago, we didn't have a couch in our living room. In fact, we haven't had a couch in this room since dear Ty-pod moved out. But now, as new friends are here to stay (for now, at least), we've got a couch! And this couch means something important to me.

It means that we're challenged to share our space, to make room for someone else's furniture (and conversations and food preferences and shower schedule and needs). But one of the perks is that we get to enjoy this awesome couch and their good cooking skills and their knack for making us laugh, like, all the time.

We, in our own context, are learning what it means to be a little less selfish. We don't have children, but we do have Family.

[and now, a picture of a baby who ate too much cake]

bearing fruit//lessons in remaining

You've felt it - surely you have. Three and a half years have passed, words have been said, changes have been made, still other needed changes will never be made (or so it seems), many have moved on, and even fewer have remained.

Remain in me; I will remain in you. (from John, chapter 15)

How can we hang on? How can we keep going? How did You do it?

But today, with an armful of greens and oranges and "hill country reds", I saw what three and a half years can mean - three and a half years of digging and hoping and preparing and turning over and watching new life spring up only for the disappointment of fruitlessness to be the end result.

Remain in me; I will remain in you.

poem: though the streets may beckon...

remember yesterday
it's not so far away
streets and smells and the looks they gave
easy money
with pain you paid
and your children left to another

remember yesterday
shouting matches
fight for life
this life is hard; it's true
but a chance, you've been given
could it be the last?
we cannot know

remember yesterday
but live for today
give grace, speak truth, seek Jesus
because many yesterdays ago
Someone dreamed you up
gave flesh, and bone, and life
this Someone, Creator, has gone to great lengths
for you, for me, for us
give grace, speak truth, seek Jesus

[written on July 13, 2011 // you've come this far...]

[[suggested soundtrack: "Painting Pictures of Egypt" by Sara Groves]]

it's a full house

These are the faces of the folks living at 554 Malcomb Street...

And these are a mere few reasons why it's so dang good...

>> late-evening living room prayer

>> homemade peach crisp

>> lots o' laughter

>> mock chicken patties that taste so much better than you think

>> surprise guests on air mattresses... who speak fluent Mandarin

>> someone to help hang towels out on the clothesline

>> porch concerts

>> red bell peppers, fresh from the garden

>> end-of-day talks that help us all sleep better

>> workin' it out

Not every day is easy, but many days are better than you expected they might be...

an appropriate patriotism: [Independence Day]

As we are here, watching sparkles of light over New York City, I confessed to my family, "I need to learn how to have an appropriate kind of patriotism."

"What do you mean?" my mom asked.

"I mean that I need a patriotism that is thankful for and loves my country, but not with the hatred for other nationalities that seems to come with most folks' patriotism [read: most Southern Mississippi patriotism]."

Because I would be dishonest if I didn't say that I am thankful for where I live; there are many things about the United States of America - job opportunities, absence of war and bombs, freedoms that truly are freedoms - that I am thankful for. And I can and will still acknowledge the injustices and imperfections that are present here in the USA. It is no secret to any of us that no matter our nationalities, we live in countries with flawed citizens, led by flawed [and often desperately inadequate] leadership, with flawed laws.

So today, I pray for an appropriate patriotism, never rising above my neighbors all over the world, and never, ever above my allegiance to the Kingdom of God [on earth, as it is in heaven].