Cigarette Smoke and Terrible Situations

Most mornings, I walk out my front door and am greeted with fresh, crisp Sonoma air.  Full of the smells of moisture, pollens, plants, and animals that reside in the creek about 30 feet away and all about the county.  It's a nice way to greet the morning.

Some mornings, I walk out and immediately greeted with wafts of smoke from my neighbor Leanore's cigarettes.  I smells like my grandmother did, so I don't mind.  And in some ways, Leanore reminds me of my grandmother.  She's spunky, she speaks her mind.  Now, that smell of smoke means I get a nice conversation with Leanore as I walk towards my getaway.  We've talked relationships, we've talked work, we've talked politics.  Just about everywhere you can go in a nice neighborly conversation.

Easter morning was rushed.  I was late to celebrate with my church just how cool Jesus is.  In my mixed-confused culture, I only care about being late insomuch as others care, so I try to be on time - even though to be frank, it doesn't matter to me too much.  So I walked in a hurry out the door to quite the unusual situation.

It smells like smoke.  There are tears in Leanore's eyes.  It's not a triumphal day for her.

Her son-in-law died, suddenly, a few days before.  She's concerned for her grandchildren, for her daughter, for his family.  A couple of neighbors also come by to talk, but clearly don't want to be there.  After some conversation, after the subject changed a few times from the death and the family, I excused myself to go to church.  I think I made the wrong choice, but I did leave.

There aren't words.

What do you say when someone is experiencing such a close death on the anniversary of the rising that in one fell swoop, saved humanity - if only they accept that?  I don't think he knew Jesus.  I'm certain Leanore doesn't.

There just aren't words.

This week has brought a new experience walking out the door: cherry cigars.  Leanore's son-in-law was also best friends with a guy a couple doors down.  This week he's spent a lot of time outside, smoking cherry cigars.  Days in a row, I've found him in front of his house, in front of Leanore's house, in front of another neighbors.  Always with the distinct scent of that smoke.

I'm so in awe of everything Jesus did and is doing and all of the promises of what will come.  I love my God deeply.  But being in a neighborhood mourning two losses in the last 6 months, the awe turns into a funny little cocktail of thankfulness and pother.

There's no end here.  Because they're still living it all.

It's not Friday. And this isn't Santa Barbara.

No, despite that terrible Friday song going through my mind, it's not Friday.  I have work tomorrow.  And then a long Sunday.  And then work again.  So I'm about a week away from a weekend.

All week, every day this shortened week I had, I was daydreaming of Santa Barbara and the highly fabulous weekend that I was blessed with.  Friends, worship, more friends, chili cookoff, farm, friends, a mansion pool party, my favorite church on the planet, pancake brunch and hangout like the old times, friendsfriendsfriends, boba, my 3rd favorite coffee shop, beach.  And awesome friends.

And this isn't Santa Barbara.  It's far from it.

I don't dislike it here, but nothing quite compares with that fabulous home I knew for four years :)

Ah, what a great weekend it was.  All that fun is thankfully enough to propel me through this non-weekend I have coming my way.

Wrestlessness

I feel like running away.

Every time I start to get comfortable, a small but strong sense of strange restlessness begins.

What if I just drive up to Washington?  Straight into the beautiful wilderness and exquisite cities there.  Leave everything here behind and start something new?  Something great.  Something big.  Something freeing.

That whole thought flashes through my mind as a feeling in less than a second, and as quickly as it came, my sanity turns it back around.  Of course I can't leave.  Of course I don't even want to leave.  The friends, the familiarity, the skills I'm all building - I love all that.

Right?

Maybe it's a part of who I am, because this is all very familiar.  Every time anything settles at all, I feel this.  Exactly this.  Like something deep down isn't okay with normalcy, like the rest of me is.  Like something in me needs to stretch it's cramped legs and take a run through the great unknown to be satisfied.  Like something just can't quite handle sitting still or focusing or breathing for an extended period of time.

And like usual, this strange feeling will pass in a week or so and I'll move on.  

Because afterall, I don't even know what I'd be running from.  

A Restorer of Streets with Dwellings, A Repairer of Broken Walls

(Isaiah 58:12)

Isaiah is by far my favorite book.  Not just of the Bible, but of everything.

Full of toil, full of truth, of power, of hope.  Of promises - promises that have come to pass, and promises that will come to pass.  Of justice for the poor, justice for the broken.  Of the most beautiful, profound, magnificent savior.  Of rebuking and of encouragement, just about hand in hand.

I wish I didn't get so angry.  Injustice makes me very angry.  Corruption makes me so very, devastatingly angry.

I don't know what happened, but since I got back from Peru I just can't stop being angry when I see the oppressed, when I see needless death and sickness and neglect, senseless poverty and hunger, unjust homelessness.  When I see businesses purchasing unjust laws with millions of dollars.  In fact, just thinking about it makes me want to scream, to throw something.  It makes me restless.

It makes me useless, as I sit and writhe in anger and frustration and am, in the end, paralyzed in my passion.

Really, what I want to be is a restorer and a repairer.  I want to use my passion in constructive ways.

What a challenging encouragement: "do away with the yoke of oppression, [do away] with the pointing finger and malicious talk... spend yourselves in behalf of the hungry and satisfy the needs of the oppressed." (Isaiah 58, obviously with emphasis added)

And for me that says: "Shut up, stop complaining, stop judging, stop blaming - just stop.  And just do what you know is right.  Toil for what you know is right.  Toil in the way you wish everyone else toiled for what is right."


I know God will restore, God is the only one who does true transformation in anyone/anything, and God's the only one with the proven power to truly turn things around. And he is doing all those things.  He has, and he will continue to do those things.  And honestly, that's the only hope I have.

But he asks us to join in.  He asks me to join in.  And stop boiling in the corner.  I need to stop just being angry.

I just love Isaiah.

The Resolution for a Girl who Hates Resolutions

So I don't really do New Year's Resolutions.  It's the big national joke that no one keeps any... and I'm no different than anyone else.  Picking an otherwise arbitrary day to list all the things you'd like to change and decide to do it all at once?  It hardly even makes any sense.  All actual decisions for change in my life have sprouted organically after an actual desire to change something specific, not because I pulled some ill-thought idea out of nowhere.

Well, if my pastor just didn't crush my own resolution to not have a resolution.  

(oh yes, the irony almost hurts)

The whole reason I landed at my current church is because I could tell I would be challenged in my faith there.  I know that one of my downfalls is to be complacent in my faith if there isn't anyone to challenge, at least a little.  And, I'm so glad my first impression was right.

Two weeks ago (a week an a half?  who's counting?)  Pastor Ron gave a sermon of faith to start a new sermon series.  He made the analogy of faith as having 4 "levels."  It was cheesy.  And pretty simple.  

But it spoke truth straight into my life, loud and clear.  Basically, God's just not the center of my life, and I'm not seriously committed to growing in my faith.  Agh.  A half a year after leaving InterVarsity, from my community, from a life where I lived for God and was growing in my faith... I've actually taken a step or two backward.

And the challenge of the message?  Commit to growing to the next level of faith this year.  It's so cheesy that I might actually need to rephrase it to hold onto it, but until then my commitment is loud and clear:  I will grow to level 4 in 2011: "Christ-Centered."

Here's the description of Level 4 that separates it from others, as per handy sermon notes:

• Passionate about connecting with Christ on a personal basis most days
• Willing to make significant sacrifices for His kingdom
• Thoughts/concerns about His kingdom dominate most days

So, I have a resolution for the year.  And it's one I'm quite [excited, nervous, happy] about, and one that will actually stick.

So of course I've turned to my arsenal of IV Press books.  To get inspiration and further challenge for growing in my faith I've turned to Faith on the Edge: a book I've attempted to read multiple times but haven't actually made it through.

So here's to the best year ever and the best resolution I've ever had :)

MLK : The Best 12-Hour Work Day

In my office, MLK Day means many things: service, compassion, justice, heroism...

...and a (quite enjoyable) 12-hour+ workday for everyone.

Every year, MLK celebration night at my organization consists of about 3 hours of acts, poems, and songs performed by hundreds of kids from the after school program.  It was adorable and actually quite inspiring to see all those kids relaying what they knew about civil rights and their feelings about it. 

Putting on this great affair for children and parents takes a ton of hands from the staff and AmeriCorps members - people who have been working since 8:30 (or earlier), who are there to make it all happen until the last bit of spilled coffee ad cookie is picked up off the gymnasium floor around 9 pm.  

And no one was grumpy, I didn't hear a singe person complain - in fact, everyone seemed quite pleased to be there - including the entire audience, from what I saw.  Even the parents who came straight from work with hungry kids who hadn't had a chance to have dinner yet.  Even the man I accidentally sent in the wrong direction to a water fountain who spent 10 or so minutes looking for it.  A handful of kids even smiled at me joyfully when I had to turn them away at the refreshment bar because the only hot beverage we had was coffee.

Amidst the hustle and bustle of getting 100s of kids on and off a stage and shuffling 100s of parents and siblings in and out of an auditorium and not having enough refreshments and the iPod dock not working correctly and the translators showing up late... I saw no one who was upset (other than a couple of kids who dropped their cookies, that is).

Isn't that how it should be?  No one taking themselves too seriously, people enjoying being together, seeing kids perform, celebrating some of the richness of our history and the idea that it's not okay to treat anyone wrongly, we should all serve one another, and everyone should be able to be friends.

Above all I think I learned last night that I love, lovelovelove, working with people who are so happy to serve.  Isn't that, afterall, how God intends it?   

We were made free to serve one another in love (Galatians 5:13)  :)

What are your plans for MLK Day on Monday?  Consider using your day off to serve someone else.

Goodbye : Hello

Dear 2010,


Thanks for everything.  Really, it's been wonderful.  


You gave me the most wonderful community, saw me graduate, took me to Peru and showed me just how wonderful God really is, gave me the best 1.5 months I've ever had in SB, a new job (ish) that I love, and caught me up with some wonderful old friends.  Oh, how I loved you so.


Even despite the whole passing out in a Peruvian hospital thing, the whole changing my life plans thing, and all the stress around school, graduation, and moving twice, I think you were wonderful.


But I'm moving onto your more attractive younger brother, 2011.  He's just so exciting, and I can't wait for what he has in store for me.


Thanks for the sweet ride,


Lauren



Dear 2011,


I'm so stoked!  I cant wait to pursue my passions, learn how to live my post-college life to the fullest, and grow closer with God.


I just know you'll be epic.


Love,


Lauren