atlas

i'm struck by the brilliance of life...

today i ran as hard as i could...six times in a row. it was hard and fast and i loved it. when i broke my foot a couple years ago, i promised myself i would never take having healthy feet and legs for granted. it's taken a long time, but i'm awake now. livened by the sounds of my own hard breathing, bare feet striding on dark grass, bounding pulse.

saturday we rescued a dog and named him atlas. :) he's some kind of crazy black lab/pitt mix, but he's lazy like a mastiff. he came running with us this morning, and loped around with his big ears flopping and his tongue wagging.

he's loved us really well though, always sidling up and leaning in. and he loves to have his ears scratched. dogs remind me a little bit of how to be affectionate and love well.

we named him atlas after the Greek Titan who carried the heavens on his shoulders. and maybe a little because he's a wanderer. i already know my heart is going to shatter when we find him a family...

also, toast is delicious. butter toast and coffee makes morning more bearable. and atlas's lazy bones next to me. oh dear....

diet coke

it's the ordinary beauty that makes our lives rich. this morning, i celebrated my friend Katie's fifth birthday at a pajama party. she giggled, colored, made crowns and ate cake. she also introduced me to her friend Ella who's about her age and has leukemia. "she used to have hair, but now she doesn't," Katie innocently told me as she snuggled up next to Ella and i. earlier i'd watched little Ella playing with Katie's cousin Ellie, who is four months old. laughing lightly, Ella watched as Ellie's tiny hands tugged on a squeaky giraffe. simple and ordinary, yet something brilliant happened in my soul as i watched them play together.

Katie's brother Luke is two and a half and full of brave sentences, curiosity and the most incredible imagination. he served two of my interns and i wooden blocks, which in his game were diet cokes, bread and butter and pieces of cake. his generosity and innocent spirit were contagious....

minutes after Katie began opening her presents, her mom told me that one of my interns (her name's Kelsey) lost her best friend and her mother had just called and told her the news. i was struck by the juxtaposition of celebrating life, and learning of untimely death. Katie's dad and i sat on the bed with Kelsey for nearly an hour...Paul's really good with words, especially in the midst of pain, grief and confusion. pastoral care is definitely his forte....i, on the other hand, fumble and stutter and can't think of something kind and comforting to save my life. but my heart broke with her heart as i watched the inner struggle; denial, overcome with grief, pain, confusion. wave after wave of deep emotion flowed through Kelsey.

and then outside the bedroom door, a light giggle from Luke and Katie, "Mom this is sooo fun!" Paul then reminded Kelsey that there is no right or wrong way to process. it is okay to be wherever you're at...tiny moments of joy do not betray.

it's the most beautiful thing that the Lord gifted us with Kelsey this summer...i have no idea what He is up to, but i am confident that these days, these moments of process with her will mold us...mold me.

i hate that it sometimes takes death to remind us how to live.

still i'm struck by the intense discord between celebration of life and battling death...i suppose that's part of this process. we need to sit with that disconnect and let it invade, be filled with questions and answers and present it all honestly to Jesus. and let Him deal with the rest. let Him fill the gaps and draw the lines. we just lean into the tension and wait for peace to lead the way.