when it gets hard to choose.

Love it will not betray you
Dismay or enslave you, it will set you free
Be more like the (wo)man you were made to be
There is a design, an alignment, a cry
Of my heart to see,
The beauty of love as it was made to be



Mumford & Sons, Sigh No More

hello, monday.

hello, spring showers.

hello, 5 pm worship service and dusky evening colors.

hello, darling running buddy (i'm not her long-distance partner...)

hello, sassy, strong women.

hello, friend who understands me (and makes me giggle).

hello, evening stroll in queen anne.

hello, seattle skyline.

hello, carkeek park beach.

hello, boyfriend.

hello, seattle in the 70s.

hello, brittlor reunited.

hello, mom whom i miss (happy mother's day--i wish i could have been there to hug you).

today i'm saying hello with lisa leonard.

happy monday!

final say.

Your body has many parts—limbs, organs, cells—but no matter how many parts you can name, you're still one body. It's exactly the same with Christ. By means of his one Spirit, we all said good-bye to our partial and piecemeal lives. We each used to independently call our own shots, but then we entered into a large and integrated life in which he has the final say in everything. (This is what we proclaimed in word and action when we were baptized.) 

-1 Corinthians 12:12 (MSG)

Whenever we say no to one way of life that we have long been used to, there is pain.  But when the way of life is in fact a way of death, a way of war, the quicker we leave it the better.

-Eugene Peterson, A Long Obedience in the Same Direction

new york.

our east coast adventure (in diptych, triptych, and quadtych):

we were reunited.

we lunched in central park.

 (things chiseled of stone)  ;)

we explored tasha's new home and special spots.

we appreciated the exquisite architecture of manhattan.

we zipped all over the city, armed with our handy metro passes (we even felt like we blended in, sometimes).

we had good conversations and remembered it was earth day (thank you, green empire state building).

we meandered along highline park (the highlight for me--I love the surprise of nature in the middle of a city).

(she is full of whimsy!)

we appreciated the beauty of a city of lights.

(double take?)

we even found time to flirt.

a terrific, relaxing, adventurous, tasty, affirming trip.

where to next?

gas works.

my thinking spot this spring has been perched atop gas works hill.  

it's a perfect run along the canal after work,

and when i arrive on the grassy knoll and look out over the city of seattle,

i stop and breathe and thank God

because what he has made is good

(and i believe he is at work

reconciling it all back to himself).

when i'm sitting there

 the little worries and unknown anxious spots of my heart

release just a fraction more.

lovely, cont'd.

A few weeks ago, I wrote about Design Sponge and the growing tendency in our culture to use stuff to create our identities.  If you resonated with that post, you'll probably like these thoughts by Sarah Bessey, because she says it better (her source of inspiration was Pinterest--a close cousin to the carefully cultivated homes on Design Sponge, methinks):

We see what we purchase or desire as an extension of our identity. So we still want to buy and consume, we want to be unique so we copy someone else's ideas, we still want to surround ourselves with our stuff. We want people to know who we are by what we wear, think, cook, espouse, read, or craft. (And now, add "pinning all the things" to that list.)

Pinterest is the fantasy league of consumerism and it speaks to the larger issues that we battle as a society: I am my image, I am what I consume, I am what I purchase, I am what I desire. How will anyone know I'm cool and quirky and fun and unique if I don't have the stuff that proves it? We become avatars of our true self, unable to be without the proper accoutrements to display it. 

We mistake our Stuff for our Self.  And then when we pin it or we do it or, even better, if someone else pins it or likes it or comments on it, we feel reinforced in our yearned-for identity.

I have no brilliant conclusions here; only a hope that by recognizing this tendency in my own life, I might be able, in small ways, to begin to break free.

Does anyone else empathize?

jamie the very worst missionary.

i have a new blog crush.

three words to sell you on her: sassy, sarcastic, and theologically-minded.  jamie and her family are missionaries in costa rica, and her writing is about as honest and hilarious as you can get, even while she makes some terrific observations about christian culture and the grace of God.  her honesty is startling and witty and just a tad bit vulgar...a strange combination, maybe, but i'm hooked!

some personal favorites:

her series on short-term missions and why they might be more beneficial for the people going than the people being "served."

her love/hate relationship with the bachelor (with a theological twist).

on raising sons to guard their hearts.  (silent laughter in the office cubicle.  silent nod of approval).

peruse as you will!  

note:  she can have a bit of a mouth on her--if occasional cursing makes you uncomfortable, this blog may not be your cup of tea!