beautiful life

Just revel a bit in Him today.

I'm reminding myself and you....

life with Him is beautiful.

wal-mart adventure

be careful... sarcasm ahead.

i ran into wal-mart today to "grab" a few things and order some pictures. the picture kiosk was running on a processor i have no doubt was from the early 70's and i was left tapping my foot and trying not to break out in song to pass the time. when the pictures were finally ordered i made my way to the hair section-- it is absolutely unbelievable to me that all the colors of the rainbow can be displayed in shampoo alone -- before one even gets to the mousse and gel. i let out a little thankful breath that i knew i wanted the green bottle and made my way to the checkout. as is typical of this season, every register was about eight feet deep in two moms and an old man with five carts (all together of course-- who ever heard of an old man with five carts?). I walked toward my exit door hoping the 7 items or less lines would be short and sweet. wonder of wonders! there was one and only one lady with two poinsettias in this line-- it was meant to be. before i was born-- this line was supposed to be mine. the bleach blond who tried valiantly at politeness quickly rang up my items as i dug in my purse looking for my wallet... where was it in this monstrously big bag i called a purse? by this time the blond is done and looking at me... "Oh my," I say "I think I left my wallet in the car." how embarrassing. the lady looks moved to tears at my predicament but manages to say "I'll hold it, just come back to this register." i sigh and rush to the car where my wallet sits just as pretty as can be on the passenger seat. grrr. it's ok. moving fast i return to my place of origin-- register 6-- only to find my habitat now infested with a older middle-aged lady of the variety that wears matching snowflake vest, earrings and coordinating slacks and shoes topped off with a professionally dyed ash blond head that does not hide that she is well over 48. my exuberance at the express lane is completely dead by now. i try not to go back into my toe tapping number from earlier but find it almost impossible as the snowflake lady unloads supplies that look like they will be used to host a party of 50 with deep-fried entrees-- courtesy of snowflake's new Presto Fry-Daddy electric deep fryer-- after aid party she will no doubt be incapacitated in bed using her four boxes of tissues. The only thing more trying than standing behind someone abusing the express lane is standing behind someone abusing the express lane after you've already checked out.
since i have nothing else to do i might at least pray for her... i think... and a bit half-heartedly begin...

i must admit that my sanity is often maintained by the outrageous sarcasm that flashes-- like neon lights at an all night diner-- in my head.

disclaimer: events described in this blog are not entirely fictitious-- any resemblance to people living and living dead is entirely intentional if somewhat exaggerated.

poverty and dissatisfaction

Some thoughts bouncing around in my head from a book I was reading at the end of the semester...

---we should “comfort the afflicted” and “afflict the comfortable”

---Poverty’s root-- its core-- is a destructive mind-set that says, ‘I don’t matter. There is nothing special about me. Why should I try? Why should I dare to hope? Who cares about me?’

---I read once that poverty is a lack of options-- a lack of choice.

---experiencing poverty is often a heart breaking experience-- not always because of their
condition but because of our own condition.

i feel dissatisfied tonight. dissatisfied that there is so little care about what is going on in the world... that often caring becomes the fashionable thing with the graphically pleasing t-shirt or organization with the cool slogan...dissatisfied at how little i pray for the desperate need... dissatisfied with the fact that i can't fix the brokenness and that even if i could take a plane tonight and go hold that little girl in x country that has been raped everyday since she was five by her family or rich white men i can really do nothing to make it all better...dissatisfied that by feeling this i am in some ways giving in to the worst effect of poverty--hopelessness... dissatisfied that i can have so much and be so impoverished and my friends in uganda can have so little and hold so much...dissatisfied at the lack of redemption and beauty...

somehow at the end of each day-- all that remains is He is good.
and i see redemption and beauty sometimes because He is at work even if it seems as if that were not so.

fake towns and middle age

After beginning to write three times and erasing all of what I might have shared I have settled on writing about my tourist experience (with three college friends) in Shipshewana, IN this week-- where the amish get down and funky.

first of all, I drove in and felt as if I dropped into a town created with cookie cutters. All the buildings were small along "main street." (can one really call it main street when the town doesn't have a gas station?) As my friends and I began shopping we immediately identified that this was most likely indeed a fake... no stores were open and seemed to serve the purpose of only looking adorable-- in a hansel-and-gretel-there-is-probably-an-old-lady-ready-to-kill-you-inside-because-anything-this-cute-must-have-a-catch kind of way.
when we finally found one open I was shocked to discover that it was possible to hold that many dollies in one place. and candles. and decorative plates. it was absolutely staggering-- how do middle aged women with vera bradley totes make it out without a mental breakdown because of the decisions to be made?
each consecutive store was similar... i began to reel from the "country chic" charm of it all.

by eleven we four collegiate's were ravaging --craving some chicken and noodles, of course, I mean it is AMISH country-- after our hard morning searching for the best priced figurine to collect dust in our future homes. so we made our way to the most prominent amish restaurant in town. while we waited in the gift shop for a table, I was catapulted into middle age when to my right I overheard some ladies in quilted jackets chatting with eachother--
"OH MY, I saw the cutest designer rolling pins at such and such!! I just have to go back!!!!" said one.
"What were they like?" asked another.
"Oh you know, with such and such and only such and such a price!"
A fake blond gave a huge gasp and then an excited squeal that I felt should have only been used at the birth of a first grandchild, "I need to get that!" blondie said.
My frame shook with silent laughter. I almost felt guilty at taking pleasure at someone else's expense but it passed swiftly-- it's not like they knew, right? My roommate came up and asked me what was up-- I explained what had happened and said "I was just trying to imagine ever being that excited about a rolling pin." "Yeah, it's weird imagining being old." she replied.

we were soon ushered to our table and were greeted by Maria our hispanic waitress who wore an amish dress, apron and hose conservatively topped off with dark eyeliner and shadow. Going back to the fake town thing... I said to myself. We ordered our meal and ate all that was wholesome and came with chucks of chicken in thick gravy. It was good I will admit.

one more shop for closure and then we were headed out-- each of us with hours of driving ahead and a long Christmas break to go 8 miles over the speed limit for.

I think this was a learning experience. when else would I have seen how tourism can make normal people do such bizarre things and taken an unwanted peek at all I hope my middle-aging will not bring?

disclaimer: events described in this blog are not entirely fictitious-- any resemblance to people living and living dead is entirely intentional if somewhat exaggerated.


have a beautiful night and don't forget to chuckle at your world.

talking it out with Him in a snowglobe

I sit at my kitchen table-- the soft glow from the Christmas lights illuminating the room and the realization that I have too much work to be writing this striking me... but hey just in case you haven't reveled in it lately -- God is good. We took a walk earlier and it was one of those nights that I needed Him to hold the pillows. See, when I get frustrated or upset sometimes I will have my good friends or my brother Graham hold a big stack of pillows and I will punch them until I feel all the tension has drained away. This doesn't happen too often anymore but tonight God held the pillows and I punched away-- I walked and poured out every disappointment, frustration and desire. I just put it all out there. The snow began falling on my face and I kept walking. And you know what?

At the end of the day God is good.

Even when life as we see it isn't what we "want" or what we expected or think might be good.
I laughed with God a bit as we talked about how I was getting frustrated at things in "my" life-- as if! We chucked -- well, actually I did-- and I think He did a little too. Do you ever have trouble being content? Here is what I was reminded of ...

Don't be wishing you were someplace else or with someone else. Where you are right now is God's place for you. Live and obey and love and believe right there."
1 Corinthians 7:17 (the message)

I heard-- "I am good Hope. Hope, just stop-- I'm so good."

beautiful huh? Just relax and live in gorgeous, simple, glorious abandonment. JOY. That is such a theme this semester.

I walked back into my townhouse and my housemate asked me what I was grinning about-- I said "Just because He's good. (pause) Just because He is so good."

I don't know what you were wishing for but I wasn't wishing for a snowstorm -- yet somehow it is abundantly more than I asked for.