So what brings you here?

I want you to try an experiment. Go out and meet some new people, or distant acquaintances. Not like awkwardly, or on the street with a mic and camera, but just in your normal environments and have a conversation: at school, work, a bar, neighbors lawn, church, etc. Ask them questions about themselves, like "How do you spend your week?", "What brings you here?", and a few more questions off of what they have said. Do not share a whole lot about yourself just yet, a few nuggets throughout. Be sincere in your questions, and do it with the intention of getting to know them. Then come back here and tell me what happens.

In my experience, and I have done this a few times in the past few years intentionally, I have been surprised and saddened by how many people do not reciprocate back and ask me questions. I am also aware that I have been guilty of this myself. There are a multitude of reasons for how and why this happens, to be sure. I have my theories and will try to expand in another post. For now, though, I would love to hear your observations and experiences on the matter.

15 to life

My husband and I just celebrated our 15 year wedding anniversary. In this day and age, I consider that a big deal and I feel like celebrating and sharing that with others today. By God's grace, we have survived and thrived through what many marriages have not. I wrote him a poem, albeit corny, filled with things only he and I really understand, but I thought I would share in the hope of hopes - that others be encouraged and know it's possible to be in this place 15 years after the ceremony.

We got this. We own it.
It's still you and me at 15... and I believe the best is yet to be, babe
Cause we're on a roll of lovin' and laughin', hangin' and playin', dancin' and creating...
You're my coffee fiend, spider-lovin, quipin' machine and decoder
You're my salsa and rhythm composer...adding spice and tempo to my willful

To this ragamuffin, Barnabus has nothing on you
My legionnaire, my iron, and my cheesy fondue
You are my triple threat: a walking dictionary, thesaurus, and editor
Without you, I would have little to say
Less learned, and no filter.

We've biked, hiked, camped, and climbed
Jogged, strolled, lingered, and loitered
Outstaying X-files, Smallville, and Boston Legal
Grooving on Cranberries, OTR, Denison, & VOL,
Sting, Peter, Brooke, and The National
...to name a few

Been almost busted, sidetracked, and bankrupt
Beheld copious births and bereavements, and worshipped
Amid learning to engage, empathize, embrace, brainstorm, bargain, swap, and boost up
While tangled with hormones, diet, and haircuts

We've traveled to Africa, Netherlands, Arkansas, California,
Colorado, Florida, Oklahoma, Gehenna...and back
Illinois, Tennessee, Texas, Carolina's all on this fast track.
I have journeyed 15+ years behind, in front of, and beside you

I have loved you. I have liked you. I am loving and liking you more, still...

So...
We got this. We own it.
It's still you and me at 15... and I believe the best is yet to be, babe
Cause we're on a roll of lovin' and laughin', hangin' and playin', dancin' and creating...

Unstitched

The seams of my brain are coming apart stitch by stitch.
I'm a cliche and am disintegrating into the mist.
I believe I have held too loosely to things, and the little I had is drifting.
Drifting to God know's where...the land of the pathetic I suppose.

I fear I have been lost in myself for years.
Where I once saw a line in the sand, I now see only erosion.
Where I once could declare who I was, I somehow seem to know less or
...care less.
I am bored with myself, my aches, my thoughts.
In these present moments I see only comparison and envy, and all the qualities that I don't possess.

I've been here before, and have come back bedecked and bedazzled-
what now seems like a past reincarnated and lovely self...
Shouldn't I be farther in this life by now?
I'm supposing the Maker needs to rip and frazzle for a reason.
I'm surprised by how much I've seen of him lately and I wait in suspicion of his workings.
My ability to trust has been shaken again, because I have been shaken.
I feel as though I have no beginning or end.
I am a vague mess, at best conspicuous
at worst ...invisible.

Broken?

Over the last week I have heard two different men say, "Everyone knows they are broken." I did not prompt this response, they just came up in the context of what was being discussed. And it's been nagging at me...really? Maybe I am off or maybe my definition of "knowing ones self as broken" looks very different from theirs. I'm still trying to figure it out at the moment and don't have the energy to do so just yet. But I would like to hear your thoughts, definition, etc. Got any?

My daughter told me a boy told her friend that she smells.
She told him "That's not very nice." He replied, "Why are you always so kind?"
In the moment I was proud of her for attempting to protect her friend, confront the wrong, and speak her mind.
However, I was also taken back by the boys choice of words...kind.
He didn't say "nice"...and I am grateful.

Nice announces to me "successful" socialization, an appeasing others attitude, with a shallow and spineless understanding of any truth; to put it frankly, a cowardliness. There is death in it.

Kind declares to me, thoughtful, helpful, merciful, honest, and alive with grace. It rings like a bell in my ears that maybe my daughter gets something, that so many us don't or have lost. Kindness speaks as an expression of the tension between the truth and tenderness. It acknowledges the broken and still see's the beauty. It's the harder higher road.

And it's lovely, especially on her...

So I was inspired by this...and I thought that I would try my hand at
"What I know". Though I am not ready to do the "spoken" piece just yet...

I fear death. I fear explosions. I fear that I will be evaluated and determined to have had no value.

I fear expectations placed on me, of being misunderstood. I fear seeing pain in my children and husband's eyes.

I hate death.

I hate war and I hate lies... because death is imminent.

I dislike interruptions, injustice, intolerance, ignorance, arrogance, extravagance, vengeance, substance...abuse.

After many years of drought, I finally enjoy a good cry.

I am fascinated by the physics of people: their choices and others response to their choices.

I often choose transparency, even when it throws you for a loop.

I choose cheese. I choose bacon. These items together makes any food edible.

I choose design. I choose order. These two things makes any space palatable.

I enjoy good writing, despite my own inadequacies. I enjoy a good conversation, despite your inadequacies.

I delight in pop-ups and puppets, kittens and kites, bubbles and Brooke (Waggoner), ranunculus and calculus (nah).

I covet those who can pull off a good prank, have a sixth sense for being "present", and has the constant and consistent energy of the Tortoise.

I experience a sense of peace when I take in the glow of a tree after a rain, sit at a creek, sleep in...

My heart skips a beat, two and three for my red headed trio. My brain turns to mush over the concept of Grace.

I am unfortunately more aware of my stomach's presence than ever. My feet believe they have so much more to do.

This is me for now and has been, but I reserve the right to change for later or sooner.

So, what do you know?

PleaseConvinceMe Blog: Can We Sin in Heaven?

Thought this was an interesting post and wanted to share.

PleaseConvinceMe Blog: Can We Sin in Heaven?