it's about time.

today i'm in brooklyn. sitting in the atlas cafe. having been directed here by abbey for coffee and sandwiches, i wandered in a few hours ago, wondering how i would spend my free day in NYC. i found myself deep in the heart of an unknown world. the music that's playing... zippy sounds of trumpets and banjos and maybe saxophones... is nostalgic and sentimental, just like my romanticized ideas of this grand city. hours later, i'm still here, watching the people that come and go. dwelling with the presence of all of the stories and faces that have brought me here.

along with the regulars who called her by name, i was charmed by the quiet but deliberate confidence of the dark skinned, heavily mascara-ed woman behind the counter. i asked for a bagel with cream cheese, tomato, and pesto (yes, it was divinity). she looked at me intently and whispered something that i didn't quite catch. i leaned in. "what kind of bagel?" she repeated. oh! wheat, please.

moments later i take my place at a table next to a small old woman who was reading a newspaper. she is unbothered by my presence. i open a book gifted to me by my good friends jeff and jesse eat, pray, love and read... "the resting place of the mind is the heart. The only thing the mind hears all day is clanging bells and noise and argument, and all it wants is quietude. The only place the mind will ever find peace is inside the silence of the heart. That's where you need to go..." the narrator remembers learning to meditate at an ashram in india. her words invite me to rest in the beauty that is so close and personal. light reflecting off of the wet pavement and into my window, highlighting the aged wood of my table and the pages that i read. two italian women come and ask to share our table. the woman and i make room. they sit speaking beautiful words that hold meaning i can only imagine. italy... the place that the narrator of this book has just come from. india... the place where she now pursues the divine. as i leave, i am not surprised to see a hindu-inspired elephant painted on the wall. outside is a mural. i recognize the images as hindu, and the words as reflecting truth that i am reading: "giving is receiving." "eye know self." i chuckle and wonder... i am surrounded. delighted in intimate anonymity.

i decided to rename my blog. you may recognize the lyrics. they come from the indigo girls, who sing the soundtrack of my life.

sunset

sunset is possibly my favorite time of day. i've taken to walking to a nearby beach to see it. with a sense of completion, the earth quiets. houses, flowers, objects seem to glow with the memory of the light they've absorbed... and as the sun begins to leave the earth to rest, it casts a deep and final blessing.











almost there...





and seeing the sun set reminds me of the promise that it will rise again tomorrow.

summer sanctification

though i haven't posted all summer, i have been collecting thoughts! so here's an amalgamation of them. i normally like to connect my ideas with a theme, but i expect that the only common factor here will be the presence of summer.

turns out i haven't been back to hear the drums again. but i've had plenty of culture. seattle is vibrant in the summer, and i have been eating it up. days with long daylight, markets bursting with flowers and berries, and warm weather in which to enjoy it all. i went camping with doug, laura wade, and the boys 2 weeks ago. my first time ever-- shocking, i know. camping is the thing to do out here. in fact, i know very few people who haven't been camping this summer, at least once. i've always loved sleeping with my window open... sleeping in a tent in the woods is even better. and waking early isn't painful when you're in the presence of nature and people you love. i can't wait to go again.

i came down with a cold that same weekend. apparently i caught it from noah. after 2 days it seemed the symptoms were lessening, and so i figured i was nearly rid of it. though my sinuses were still not clear, i resolved to fight it with sleep and vitamin C rather than buying medicine. i pride myself on spending as little money as possible, and on doing things the 'healthy' way. whatever that means. only problem is, i didn't get much sleep the following week, and the residual stuffiness showed no signs of clearing. still i wasn't phased. until i realized that i couldn't taste anything! i spent a couple of days stubbornly maintaining normalcy, cooking and putting things into my mouth that i knew i loved, trying to enjoy them... and nothing. this was intolerable. not only was there something wrong with my nose, but eating was a waste. and i can't stand wasting food. especially good food. so i caved and bought musinex nasal spray (on sale! ha!). it's a miracle drug. my sinuses cleared in minutes. sometimes i wonder why i fight so hard against treatment.

really i think i distrust the goodness of the product that is meant to heal me. i don't like paritcipating in consumerism... which i realize is inevitable. but when i'm buying something so clearly formulated and marketed for a particular effect, i resist. who really knows what's in the stuff??

similarly, i've recently become aware of the presence of corn syrup in virtually every product in america. "high fructose" corn syrup, at that. i'm afraid to find out what these words actually mean. but i have discovered it in the ingredients list of some things i have eaten unquestioningly my whole life, including marshmallows and syrup. turns out the syrup that i pined away for while i was living in ireland doesn't contain any maple whatsoever. here i was, calling it "real" maple syrup. i knew that there was stuff that was "pure" maple syrup... i just figued that it was a higher quality, more concentrated form or something. so today i bought grade A maple syrup at Trader Joe's. sanctification comes in many forms! oooh! a theme :)

God of the thunder.

my nephew noah loves music ('ic!' he calls it). he's quite the dancer. has been since he was old enough to sit and to push the buttons on his pooh musical storybook. he loves moving every part of his body along with the sounds. hands, hips, feet, shoulders... sometimes all at once! naturally, he loves instruments. any object that he finds will inevitably be used to make a beat, with noah bobbing his head, saying 'drum! drum!'

at the end of the street where my brother and his family live, there's a native american highschool. every thursday night a group of people meet there. i'm not sure what the purpose is entirely, but it's clearly a celebration of their culture. from their house, doug and family can hear drum beats in the distance, drifting from the building, sometimes voices too.

tonight doug, noah and i were walking home and heard the beat. instantly we were quiet and still, craning our ears to hear. 'noah, do you hear the drums?' asked doug. 'drum?' says noah, walking and pointing towards the sound. doug and i followed, eager to be close to the sound too. down the sidewalk, across the street, then passing through the outer gate from the road, we approached slowly. the sound was clearly audible now, and individual voices distinct. the door to the gymnasium where they were playing was open. looking in, i could see silhouettes and then more clearly the shapes of people sitting in a circle. men. they were those that sang. sticks high between beats, they beat one common drum. we kept a safe distance, not wanting to intrude. an older gentleman came through the door, on his way to the parking lot. he and doug exchanged greetings and smiles. his face was soft with wrinkes, hair black and long. he wore jeans and a t-shirt. he asked a question that i can't quite remember. doug explained: 'my son loves the drums. we live up the road and came close to listen.' 'come on in!' he said. 'oh! would that be ok?' doug replied. 'sure! pull up a chair. we're about to eat too. you're welcome to join anytime!' how kind and generous.

we were delighted, but stayed near the doorway. (it was nearly noah's bedtime so we wouldn't stay long.) the man brought us chairs. there were 25 or so people in the room. 2 groups of men gathered around 2 drums. their song had ended soon after we entered. they looked at us, and we at them. i felt conspicuous, but welcome. i remembered impressions i'd gathered from stories of native american people... their respect for life in all of its forms, their humility, spirituality, kindness. sitting there among them, these impressions rang true. i felt such awe in that space. it was clearly holy ground. a place of worship and community. honoring their past and present together. we sat and waited... i looked around at two women holding babies, standing near a table where food was set out for the coming meal. several women around my age were mingling as well. a couple of toddlers ran around, making a dash for the door, chased and reigned in again by a grandfather type. we watched and waited. and then, a single voice, a single strong long beat. the leader was young. a number of them were young in fact, spanning late teens to thirties perhaps? all joined in then, singing and beating. i closed my eyes and listened, the pulse so deep. powerful. inviting. thundering. commanding. the men were the ones that sang. i wondered what meaning was in their sounds. they gave all of themselves to the music. unified, the sound was of spirit. spirit was the language. center the orientation, physically and inwardly. other movement caught my eye--three of the women had entered open space and were dancing. their feet light, lifted by the very beat, touching toes in front then back then crossing. rhythmic and beautiful, full of grace. the grandfather moved with them in a circle, stepping, two toddlers in toe, bouncing respectfully to the beat. the sound continued. eternal. then a final beat, loud and unified. filling the silence that followed.

as we watched, my mind filled with questions. what were these peoples' lives like? what was their purpose in gathering together like this? what courage and determination had kept these practices alive? what did the music mean to them? i daydreamed about walking up to that woman there... asking my questions. maybe they would be delighted? or maybe not :) but in time i'd like to find out!

after the silence had cleared, we three made our exit quietly. noah bouncing in doug's arms, pointing to the sky, singing softly, testing his own voice for those high notes. 'buddy, did you like the drums? do you think maybe they were singing to God?' doug asked. noah knows that we talk to God before we eat dinner, thanking Him for all of His good gifts that day by name. he knows that the rain comes from God. 'i think they were singing to God. God of the sun and of the moon. God of the trees and of the water.' 'God of the thunder!' i added. noah experienced his first thunderstorm last night. doug had told me earlier about being with noah as he heard the sounds, trying to explain the wonder and the goodness in such a big, strange noise. the same holiness and power was embodied in those drums, evoking the same wonder and fear.

one of the many blessings in being an aunt: entering into this moment, the experience of these sounds, with the heart and mind of a child. hearing them as if for the first time. free to be small, to feel, and to wonder.

one of the many blessings of being a sister: watching my brother engage the heart of his son with his own.

...thursdays this summer, you know where i'll be!

connected.

i am new to this whole blog thing. i want to write, but sometimes i don't know what to write about. so many thoughts pass through my mind in a day! part of my impetus for starting this blog was that i found myself amidst loads of changes, and having to find new ways of processing them. another motivation, and one that's related to the first, is staying connected to some of you that are closest to me that are now (in some cases many) time zones away.

connection. this is my primary objective in life, so it's no surprise to me that it's my purpose in keeping a blog. having moved several times, i am finding that connection is no longer a predictable thing. maybe this will change in time once new relationships and routines become more familiar. but i'm starting to think that this is a reality of life. another word for connection, one that's a buzz word these days in the christian world, is community. where does one find community? in family (hopefully), in friendships... but what exactly constitutes a friend? and where does one find one? at work? through mutual friends? through common interest groups? which brings me to the idea of church.

moving to a different country is great for deconstructing concepts like church. in ireland, a 'post-christian' country (i hope i'm getting my terms right), with a culture driven more by relationships than by what you do, church is different. to begin with, churches are relatively small. though hard in some ways, i experienced this as a positive thing. i found a feeling of 'church' in the irish context while chatting with people during the tea and coffee break, holding a coffee that had been poured by a friend (this was true no matter who was serving, as there were only 30 or so options). saturday@5 was a young church plant, so smaller even than the norm and still finding its legs. but there is a strong sense of connectedness there. church is personal. the presence of each person is important, and what they contribute is of great value. in fact, everyone is needed.

when i moved to seattle, i started going to church with my brother and his family at a church (bethany community church) that is large in american terms. it has 5 services, with hundreds of people attending each one. the difference was quite a shock, and is taking time to digest. my first attempt at getting involved my first month was disappointing--i went to an event, initiated conversation with some women, and was 20 minutes into painfully awkward small talk, only to discover that they go to the evening service and i will never see them. when i enter the sanctuary each week, i recognize the faces of some that are sitting around us, but the 60 second meet and greet time in the service is not enough for building any meaningful connections. for me to be connected at bethany, i need to get involved in one of the small group bible studies that meets during the week, or maybe (horror of horrors!) show up to one of the social events held for those of us in the 'post-college, early career' category. but i haven't built up enough motivation to do either of these yet.

easter sunday, i went to a sunrise service held by my housemate carrie's church. there were approximately 20 people there. it was raining and early and so the service was short. but it felt so good to be with a group of people small enough that i could realistically interact with all of them. it was personal. it refreshed my desire for connectedness, and made me wonder if bethany is the church for me.

doug and laura wade were away this weekend and so i was on my own for church. i contemplated not going at all... wondered if maybe this was the week to visit carrie's church again... and went to bed last night ambivalent. this morning i slept past the time i needed to get up to go to the 9:30 service, and woke up still ambivalent. one thing i did know was that i wanted to go running at greenlake, which is right next to bethany. i checked the website for the later services and found that one was at 11:15... 45 minutes. enough time to eat breakfast and get ready. that's it. decision made. i was still slow to leave the house and got to church late, so the only open seats were in the balcony. i was curious, as i'd never been up those stairs before. i sat directly behind the soundboard, not realizing that my view would be obstructed by the fancy technology that makes those impressive audio and visuals function up on stage. looking at these through the service made me mindful again of the kind of resources big churches like this one have. resources like these have the potential to spoil a church. it reminded me of the culture that i grew up in... of InterVarsity large group meetings that at times seemed to live or die by the success of the powerpoint display. having left this context for another and returned, the technology has lost its luster for me. i see the clean, impressive presentation as one valuable way of doing church, not 'the' way. i sat there, feeling different.

in spite of my feelings of discontent, i have continued to go to bethany for 2 reasons: 1. it is regular time that i get to spend with my family, and 2. the teaching. i am constantly hungry for true words that will fill me and help me make sense of my life, and consistently, what i hear from the pulpit at bethany cuts straight to my core. today, while teaching on the book of Amos, richard was describing times when the Lord disrupts our plans in order to teach us something and offer us something different. he described a lack of equilibrium that we feel, and how the He wants to speak to us in the midst of it.

equilibrium. without predictable means of connection, my sense of equilibrium is easily disrupted these days. and the feeling of being 'different' flares daily. the contentedness and trust that i wrote about in my last post about rain can be gone in a moment... and sometimes i don't know why. but the more i'm disrupted, the more i realize my utter dependence on the Lord's presence, and the sweeter it is to hear His voice.

in the company of rain.

last night i went walking in the rain. my heart was full of ireland... i had spent part of the afternoon sharing some deeply significant memories with a friend. though i have revisited my memories many times, this one came with a new sense of promise, peace, and hope. i came home, greeted my housemate carrie, and instead of busying myself like i often do, all i wanted to do was sit. but not inside. i did not want to be closed in by walls. though the presence of God is in all of space at every moment, when i am outside, i feel access to God in a visceral, tangible kind of way. i am surrounded by moving air, and last night the falling rain--the perfect companion for my ireland-filled heart. i ventured to a lake a couple minutes' drive from my house. i was surprised to find other people walking and running there. i was one of the few with umbrellas (this time i wanted the comfort of protection... though i aspire to be one of the umbrella-less dwellers soon). most moved wordlessly, carried by the rythm of footsteps and falling water, all of us submerged in the presence of rain.


it was a light rain. the kind that makes everything look soft and beautiful. the water on the ground reflected light. the trees were vibrant, strong and ever stronger as they stood in rain. their branches and leaves glowing with the yellow-green of new life.


i thought about tears... the pain and sadness that cause human hearts to break and saltdrops to fall...soft as the raindrops. and the healing, strength, and new life that comes in their midst. aware that many tears have brought my heart to this evening of quiet fullness.

i circled the lake and returned to my car. then, home again, jeans and new runners properly soaked (thankfully these shoes were purchased expressly for practicality, not aesthetics :)) and put on the kettle for tea. not just any tea, but real barry's that arrived thursday from dun laoghaire. i drank it in a mug, with candles lit, listening to BellX1, all of which had come together with the tea. the essence of ireland and dearest friends filling my senses.

i'm thankful for the rain.

Paddy's Day

the spelling is deliberate. (ha- the word deliberate always makes me think of Gimli when he falls of his horse in the Fellowship of the Ring) deliberately true to ireland that is, as was my celebration of st. patrick's day this year.

generally, the parts of me shaped by my 16 months in ireland have been finding their place here in seattle... i could name many... of course there's the constant rhythms of rain, but also the immediacy of natural beauty- in place of rainbows, i now catch my breath and am stilled by God's goodness every time i see the clear silhouettes of ever-present snow-peaked mountains against the brilliant colors of a setting sun. there also happens to be an irish shop just a couple minute's drive down the road. bikkies, tea, and memerabilia galore. it's so strange. walking into that shop the day before paddy's day, i was on a mission for bikkies, a key ingredient in the banoffie pie (requested by laura wade-- aka. banakie). the rooms full of familiar things revived memories so tangibly that i could almost fool myself into thinking i was in a cheasy tourist shop in ireland. it was very nearly wonderful... and oh so bittersweet.

normally, the idea of buying things there feels like cheating. but for patrick's day, i took the liberty to use this ireland mirage to honor my memories and celebrate with doug, laura wade, noah, and luke. i purchased some bikkies and a packet of shepherd's pie mix. then, with one more trip to the food store, i had all of the ingredients for shepherd's pie, roast carrots and parsnips (with honey and rosemary, of course!), banoffie pie, and smithwick's.

i arrived at doug and laura wade's mid-afternoon to start chopping. and chop i did. i was so excited for the carrots and parsnips that i filled a pan with enough for 10 people. then i cleaned and chopped potatoes and prepared a pot of water to boil them for mashing. things were going so well! and then..... catastrophe. a loud and sudden crack like a gunshot-- the sound of glass exploding. instead of turning on the burner underneath the pot of water, i had heated the glass pan of carrots and parsnips that were waiting for their turn in the oven. glass everywhere. i mean everywhere! little tiny bits all over the counter, and floor, reaching all parts of the room! shocked and confused, i stumbled as carefully as i could to the connecting room where noah (22 months) was playing to keep him out of the glass-infested kitchen. having heard the sound, laura wade came running downstairs. in a few brilliant maneuvers, she safely relocated noah to his crib (luke is still a beetle, confined to his back, though at this stage he could roll over if the thought occurred to him. as of yet he is more interested in exercising his vocal chords), and systematically removed all appliances and objects from the counters. meanwhile, the shock of what had happened was wearing off and i felt horrible. it was a nightmare of a mess, particularly with a near two year old in the house who is naturally opposed to shoes and socks. but from the moment she saw what had happened, it was clear that laura wade was not angry. she got stuck in and led the cleaning effort, never once blaming me or making me pay emotionally (nor later fiscally) for what happened. she even ran out to the store to get more parsnips and carrots to replace the ones that had gone to their grave by bits of glass and direct contact with the stovetop (MAP women, i couldn't help but think of our fruit salad plastic bowl fiasco!). i share this story with you not to confirm the already prevalent opinion among some that i am flighty (i prefer absent minded!), but because it was a moment that i knew the freedom of grace like never before. the shame i initially felt as i worked to find and collect all of those bits of glass was rendered useless and indeed unnecessary! i am irrevocably human, quite a mess at times. and in this situation, i felt the invitation to truly trust that i am loved and and somehow accepted in the midst of all of it. this is the meaning of forgiveness! it would be ok.

before long, the glass was gone and dinner was cooking once again. 'a new day!' laura wade exclaimed. and this time, she and i were side by side peeling and chopping away. funny how mess makes way for relationship!

...did i mention that my sister in law is amazing?

and though a bit behind schedule, dinner was everything i had hoped it would be... and more.