these are a few of my favorite things

A quick list of some of my favorite experiences over the last couple of weeks:

1. Watching the world series with Christine and Gregory, while drinking a "Hot Tamale" (Beer with REAL chili peppers in it! Sssss!!!!)

2. Planning an imaginary world-traveling caravan of CR Master's Students with my new PSU friends, Dimitri and Mindy. Dimitri believes that it will actually happen. Mindy and I contend that we will only go on this caravan if in fact it travels on camelback through North Africa... In all seriousness, thinking about returning to "far away" and seeing new sights in exotic places is bewitching. Sometimes I refuse to let my thoughts go there.

3. Playing in the autumn leaves with Christine! Autumn is the season of the year I cherish most.

4. Celebrating Brandi's birthday with crepes and a movie. I had a crepe with feta, field greens, basil pesto, tomato, and mozzarella! Yummmm.... If I can't be in France, it's the best way to go! We saw 'Dan in Real Life' and I think I laughed from the first line to the last. The characters were hilarious.

5. David Crowder/Phil wickham concert! The Crystal Ballroom is the kind of venue that I appreciate most. It has an antique feel from the bubble-shaped lights around the windows. Plus, the ballroom floor, which is on the second story, bounces up and down!

6. Visiting the Evergreen community last weekend. It felt like home in a refreshing way, and yet was very particularly Portland. I want to get to know them better. I think they are the group of people I've been looking for.

7. Learning to appreciate both the soggy days and the sunny days. Seeing sunsets for a few days has been invigorating. I have had a difficult time not seeing the sun or the moon for a couple of weeks. I rather enjoy the rain...just not every day. I suppose I'm not an Oregonian yet. Perhaps someday I will feel differently.

Half of what?

In the morning as I am pouring myself a cup of coffee, as my thoughts begin to become cohesive, I mix in a little creamer to make my coffe facy and yummy. Over the last week or so, in the middle of this process I ask myself this question: How is it possible that Half and Half be fat free? I thought "half and half" meant half cream, half milk... am I wrong here? This is the great mystery of my mornings...

[Have you seen it in the grocery store or used it? Did it only recently come on the market?]

This morning, I checked the label. "Ingredients: Nonfat milk, milk*, corn syrup solids, artificial color**, sugar, dipotassium phosphate, sodium citrate, mono and diglycerides*, carageenan, natural and artifical flavors, vitamin A palmitate.

*Adds a trivial amount of fat

**An ingreadient not normally found in half and half."

Hmmm....all of those -ates and -ides. and-- artificial colors are kinda strange. Its kind of like those Olean chips that came out a few years ago. Everyone was excited that the chips had less fat or something...then they read the label and realized that they contained bizarre ingredients with unfortunate side effects. Maybe we want our good ole reliable fat back again...

As I am reading the label, since I have not yet consumed said coffee, my brain is not able to figure out deep mysteries of the universe such as these, and I sort of grunt, return the half and half to the fridge and finish cooking my egg and toast. MMMMmmmmm....

There is beauty in this: responding to disappointment with humitily and grace

I forgot my best friend, Kate's, birthday last week. Have you ever done that? It feels awful. In this case, however, there were some surprises and delights.

I had been in the middle of a very stressful conflict with someone else in my life. In need of her support and honest criticism, I called my dear friend, Kate, several times during the week. We had some conversations that were deeply beneficial to me in understanding how to respond to this particular person in a gracious and appropriate way. On Friday (my friend's birthday) I was driving alone through rush hour traffic, felt overwhelmed with the conflict, and knew that I needed a friend in that moment. I called Kate and we talked for a few minutes, but she was running out the door. The next day, when I called to finish our conversation, I asked her what she had done the night before. "Some people took me out for ice cream because yesterday was my birthday."

It felt like my breath had been knocked out of my chest. I had no words.

I hope that I never forget how she responded. What a woman she is! [Gentlemen, she's single!]

She told me that it did not matter that I had not remembered her birthday. I, of course, thought she was full of it, and protested. But, she said, the greatest present a friend can receive is to know that she is truly considered a friend. When I was in need, when I needed someone whom I could trust and whom I knew truly cared for me and knew me, it was her. And besides, she said, she had practically forgotten my birthdays for the past 2 years (I know...it's something we will both try to work on).

What struck me about this was what she did not say, and how well I knew that she meant what she did say. In the context of our relationship, her birthday was about my needs on that day. Birthdays are a huge deal in my family, and I was, in a way, brought up to expect them to be all about me. I am still trying to detox myself from extravagant birthday expectations now that I am in my twenties. I think Kate grew up much the same way. Still, we have an unstated understanding that were the situation reversed, I would gladly spend my birthday on the phone with her if she needed me.

The sacrifice and selflessness required of a deep and true friendship is a beautiful thing. What a beautiful friend I have! and what a beautiful friendship we share that she can confidently know that I love her based on all the ways we care for one another every other day of the year.

I hope to remember the humility and selflessness with which Kate saw this situation. There will be future disappointments of this kind in my life and I want to reflect the kind of godliness and beauty that Kate does when my turn comes up. I tend to have HUGE expectations for just about everything and then I get disappointed. I think that how we deal with disappointment tells a lot about our character. It's easy to act like a big baby when we are disappointed. When we are disappointed, I think it is necessary to back up and examine the broader picture of what is going on. Kate knew that last friday was not only her birthday, but that it was a tough day for me. I'm thankful that I have good examples of what it means to respond to disappointment with character and perspective. Now I don't really have an excuse for acting like a baby when I'm disappointed. :) Thanks Kate! haha.

for love's sake

I have been encountering some beautiful words and some beautiful music lately.

Thursday evening, I had the good fortune to be able to attend the Remedy Tour, and was able to hear both Phil Wickham and David Crowder Band. Good music is refreshing to the soul like cool water poured over the senses. It was a great night. I would go see them again tomorrow night if I were given the chance. I cannot believe that Phil is only 21 years old. He's one of those people who make me anxious to discover more of my giftings and to live into them more. I both delight and grow restless being in the presence of people like that. :)

I am reading Desmund Tutu's "No Future Without Forgiveness" detailing the reconciliation process in post-apartheid South Africa. I'm reading in Palio, a local coffee shop with delightfully large windows that allow me to observe this soggy Portland day. There are some trees outside ablaze with the feeling of autumn. It is a good day.

But about the book...it has nearly brought me to tears (of joy) as I read about the amazing forgiveness that people have offered after such atrocities to their loved ones. Tutu's is a crafty wordsmith, and I have been enjoying his skill with language. I would like to share some of the beautiful things that he has said that have made an impression on me:

"In this theology, we can never give up on anyone because our God was one who had a particularly soft spot for sinners. The Good Shepherd in the parable Jesus told had been quite ready to leave ninety--nine perfectly well-behaved sheep in the wilderness to look for, not an attractive, flufy little lamb - flufy little lambs do no usually stray from their mummies - but for the troublesome, obstreperous old ram. This was the one on which the Good Shepherd expended so much energy. When he found it, it is highly unlikely to have had beautiful fleece. It would have almost certainly have been thoroughly bedraggled and perhaps fallen into a ditch of dirty water and was thus smelling to high heaven. That was the sheep the Good Shepherd had gone after, and when he found it he did not pinch his nostrils in disgust. No, he took it and placed it gently on his shoulders and returned home to throw a party because he had found this lost one. And Jesus says there is GREATER joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine needing no repentence."

"God loves me as I am to help me become all that I have it in me to become, and when I realize the deep love God has for me, I will strive for love's sade to do what pleases my Lover. Those who think this opens the door for moral laxity have obviously never been in love, for love is much more demanding than law."

At the concert, David Crowder said something beautifully profound that I think is a lot of what Tutu is writing about. He said, "If we [Christians] can only live like we sing, the world will surely be a better place." Amen. Let it be so.

embodied: its what's on the inside that counts

art
I had an experience last night that gave me such great joy and a childlike fascination as I reflected over it today. I can honestly say that today was made sufficiently more enjoyable by last night's adventures.

Yesterday, after I spent a good portion of the day on the couch reading for class and sampling all our teas, I decided that I would have a little adventure. I heard that there was an exhibit at the OMSI (Oregon Museum of Science and Industry) that was not to be missed. I phoned one of my new Portland friends and we made a midnight visit to see Bodyworlds 3. The exhibit contains actual deceased people's bodies that have been preserved using a process called Plastination. It was obvious that a group of people with significant artistic vision designed the exhibit. Each body was placed in such wonderously beautiful poses, depicting the wonderous strength and originality of the human system. The exhibit was open 24-hrs/day this weekend, so people can come see an exhibit featuring dead people into the wee hours of the night! ...creepy! The intricacy with which the human body has been designed and constructed was stunning. Viewing these muscular forms, I realized how seldom I think about what goes on under the skin. These people were not textbook photos, they were actual living beings at one time, now posing in front of me so artfully, some doing actions that I do, their muscles and tissues in full view. I cannot believe how well we are made. It all fits together so tightly in this compact package of our bodies. The bones provide structure, the tissue cushiones the bones, the muscles provide strength for movement, the nervous system gives the commands...It works so well.

I drove to worship this morning with visions of these bodies in my head. And it hit me all of a sudden - this joy and beauty - that the Creator of the earth and the stars, the heavens and the skies, He took on this form. I thought about all the muscles and the organs. God. God who fashioned humans from his very Words saw our need and took on the form of a human to redeem us. God who created our bodies to feel pain and pleasure, He left the comfort of the heavens to embody himself in the person of Jesus. I thought about the embryos in the exhibit, and it stuns me that this wonderful God took the form of a peanut-sized embryo in the belly of a virgin. He put on flesh and dwelt on the earth in bodily form. I cannot fathom it. The human body seems to me infinitely more beautiful in light of this reality.

This morning's sermon was about Genesis 1. God took seven days to create the earth. He took 9 months to come out of the womb. He went through infancy, childhood, adolescence, and adulthood. God was present in the process. God was a part of the process.

I feel both soothed and stoked to think of God undergoing the human processes of birth and life. He took his time. He felt it all. He identifies. He sees us. He loves us. He has redeemed us through the body he created and embodied and raised from the dead. Amazing.

We truly are fearfully and wonderfully made.

Jesus, meet PSU! . . . PSU, meet Jesus?

I have had two weeks of class so far, and I am getting acquainted with Portland State University and the culture of Portland more and more.

In my classes I hear all sorts of interpretations of what "love" and "peace" and "mercy" are from my classmates and professors. Everything seems so relative and aimless and empty without its grounding in Jesus. He is so beautiful and lovely. In the midst of studying peace and reconciliation I am constantly reminded that it is he who provides the ability for love, peace, forgiveness, and mercy. How do we forgive others? How? The act of forgiveness is often painfully difficult. I suppose I am at PSU to hear how people forgive when the do not know Jesus. I don't think that I would forgive anyone if I didn't have a profound example of forgiveness in my life, and even then, I would need th capacity. Jesus provides both for me. The way and the light.

My professor was grasping in the air trying to explain what "mercy" was by definition, and I wanted to whisper "jesus." And my classmates were trying to discuss the meaning of justice, and I so desperetely wanted to say "God!" He is wonderfully just.

I am in a whole new context and culture here in Portland and in my university. It is like nothing I have ever experienced. It is wonderous. It keeps me ever fascinated and contemplating.

It is a culture that finds Christianity abrasive. In many ways, I don't blame them. Some of the people who call themselves Christians seem abrasive to me. Amidst this culture that is a melting pot for spirituality, I am finding ways of being invitational and helpful at helping people to get past their stereotypes, but it is a whole new world here, and I'm taking my time learning what is and is not helpful to say and do right away. The things they want and desire are actually what Jesus offers them, but they do not know that it is offered. And I sit beside them, and pray and talk to Jesus and ask Him to introduce Himself to them.

There is a real hostility toward Christianity here, but people generally appreciate Jesus. They are curious about Him. They want to use His example. I am not spending nearly enough time with Him that I might look like him. Here's a strange thought I have been having: I'm realizing that I perhaps need to spend more time with Jesus than I do with the Church, that I might look more like Him. I need the Church. The Church is my family. However, I have realized that it's fairly easy for me to look like the Church, but not as natural or easy to look like Jesus. I'm a follower or Jesus. I need the Church, but sometimes I get confused about what it means to follow Jesus as I am immersed in it. does that make sense?

...just some thoughts I've been having...

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