lets go fly a kite

this month i have gallivanted all over the place - kansas, arkansas, chicago, nashville, knoxville, canton, and finally alma, georgia. i've seen and delighted in marriage and mourning, deep belly laughter and gentle tears. i have been inspired by great minds and read from about 10 novels. in all of these journey's, the month has been leading up to this week:

my best friend's wedding.

my cousin ashley is my oldest friend - born three months apart in fact. from the time we were young, we wrote letters to each other and spent summers at the shore, thanksgivings at the fish house. when we were 14, we began working for our uncles in the blueberry farming business.

-oh yes, alma is the blueberry capitol of the south. we've seen each other through a lot of beginnings and some endings too. she was there when i had my first kiss, my first job, my first heart break...the first time i said "i love you" to a boy in my sweet 15 year-old way. i pierced my ears with her, layed in a tanning bed for the first time, and cut my hair short. she was present the first time i remember the Holy Spirit really speaking to me...it is well with my soul. we fought with each other and laughed so hard when we made up. we dreamed together, imagined life together. one time, we decided we would live as neighbors on Johnson's Lake Road, with pretty white houses that had wrap around porches, husbands and lots of babies.

over the years she and i have battled each other, but we've also carried one another to the feet of Jesus. and we've grown up a lot.

this week, we're sleeping in her old room...getting ready in her old bathroom. i can't help but feel like the chapter of our childhood is closing. like at the end of this week, we'll actually be women instead of little girls.

i am unbelievably proud of the woman she's become. as we layed in bed last night, i told her how it's been beautiful to see how Christ is redeeming her story. he is transforming her, renewing her mind. and now he's given her a man to journey with too. she told me last night that God says marriage is good, and has given it as a gift not made for us to enjoy like a birthday present, but to enjoy because it simply glorifies the Lord. by loving her new husband and being covenanted to him, God will be exalted. that makes me hopeful for them.

when i set out to write this post, i actually had intentions of debriefing this new book i'm reading, because i didn't want to be an emotional disaster by thinking about this closing of a chapter. but that's what it is. you know what though? it's the beginning of a chapter too.

love.

I’ve been thinking a lot about grace and love lately; wondering how better to tear down walls and build bridges with our partners, groups and people of Houston. Stephen Sciolino says, “Love in its purest form is the most powerful weapon we have against hatred, indifference, prejudice, misunderstanding and divisiveness. The more we genuinely love, the more we understand that this commandment is life altering for everyone involved. Just as water rushing against hardened stone eventually erodes the stone, so love in action breaks down all barriers between people. It’s a commandment which works miracles And brings the Kingdom of God closer to reality.”

Beautiful isn’t it? This summer I have seen pure love in action. I got the opportunity to sit and eat lunch at this great little Cajun place with a middle school group this summer. In talking with one of the boys on the trip, I asked him how God had surprised him during the week. He responded by saying, “Well, I was surprised to find out that homeless people are just like me. And so are the kids that we’ve been working with. They’re all just kids and we all need love. So I’ve tried to love them while they’ve been loving me.” All this from a brilliant 13-year-old from Tomball, Tx. He’s right and so is Sciolino. The love of Christ is rich and free, says an old hymn, and I have seen that love displayed in the smallest of actions that made the biggest impact. Painting with college students, playing speed scrabble with my hosts, and in Paul being a great listener. I have seen love transcend boundaries in my new neighbor giving us some homemade pear preserves. Love bound up the brokenhearted when one of our groups offered up a simple, but genuine note of thanks to one of our partners who was tired and burned out.

In the light of Love, we are carried to the feet of Jesus and filled to overflow. I think each day I learn more about love, grace and sacrifice than ever before. As many of you know, I recently began a new adventure living in community in an economically depressed neighborhood in Houston called Third Ward. Community living has already opened my eyes to seeking grace and humility and I’m constantly figuring out what this pure love looks like. It's a daily process, and it is with both joy and struggle that I surrender. I'm learning that commitment takes a lot more commitment than I thought. But something else I've learned in my journey to community is that I am capable of walking through hard things. They're hard, but the beauty that blossoms out of them is worth it.

That's all for now.

reflection

This morning I sit from my new in-home office. My house mates and I moved into our new home two weeks ago, and we are down to two unpacked boxes! We rejoice in the little things. Paul and I have sent our summer staff back to their respective homes, jobs and schools, and are in the sweet slower rhythm of late August. This summer has brought significant challenge for me as a leader, as a sister and daughter and also just as a child of Jesus. But throughout, I tried to journal through some of those experiences, and that is what I bring you today. Just some thoughts from my summer and a little bit of what Christ has shown me lately….

June 14 - Yesterday was my first day off in two weeks. We’ve been training our new summer staff – Israel, Cameron, Courtney, Crystal and Kelsey – and each day has been full, preparing the staff and completing summer scheduling. But yesterday, I basked in the glory of a day with no cell phone, no computer and little communication with anyone but Christ.

I began the day by opening up the book Ruthless Trust written by Brennan Manning. Normally, I must confess, I don’t anticipate reading such books for long periods of time. Mostly because it’s a lot to process at once. But there I sat, in the morning sunshine, reading truth after truth after truth about who I am, and how trustworthy is the One who made me. As the sun shone through the wavy glass window above my head, all I could think of was the face of Christ beaming; smiling graciously at His daughter, filling me up.

In reading yesterday, I was reminded of the importance of gratitude, and seeing Grace in all the little things that carry us from day to day. So I’d like to count for you, some of the blessings poured out over CSM Houston and I over the past few months. As you read, offer Praise to our King for these ordinary and remarkable wonders.

Today I am thankful for the sun. I love the way it seeps into the pours on my face and lightens the day. I’m thankful for Paul and his leadership, encouragement and grace. He constantly reminds the staff and I that all of the glory for what happens in the city goes to Christ. I’m thankful for Lord of the Streets Episcopal Church and how welcoming they have been to our groups. The men and women who attend there are the salt of the earth and many don’t even know it. Gratitude fills my heart for my brothers and sisters who are rallying together to seek Justice for those held in oppression and manipulation in our city. I am thankful for youth who are unafraid; they remind me of how to be bold and courageous. I’m grateful for summer rain, falling on the earth restoring dry places. I feel so pursued by the Lord when it rains…I am so thankful for the faithfulness of groups who we have partnered with for years – it is beautiful how they see that no matter how many times they come back, their experience is different and made anew because Jesus is always here, always moving. I am thankful for community and the commitments my sisters and I have made to serve, love and live amongst the poor in Houston. I’m thankful for volleyball at the park, dining with my friends who are homeless and weeping with frustration that they still are when they don’t want to be. Community gardens, children exposed to musical worship, Street Reach and art therapy. Cloudless days, stormy nights, neighbors and fresh salsa, coffee and prayer, walking to church and connecting with our ministry partners. Balance between love and truth. There are countless things that fill my life with richness and texture, and in each of them there lies hope in Christ. Even in the darkest of moments when brokenness is all around, Jesus remains – and He is redeeming, restoring and renewing His creation. Thank God.

spanish moss

today my dad and i wandered around Hermann Park and strolled beneath rows of live oak trees shrouded in spanish moss. between the trees were tall lamp posts that reminded me of Narnia. truth be told, probably every lamp post reminds me of Narnia.

lately good days are summed up by simple and beautiful interactions. like tonight my dad and i ate some really healthy (albeit really awful) fish and drank a bottle of wine...we talked about when my brother and sisters and i were little, when he was little, and what it was like growing up in the deep south. we laughed. i really like laughing with my dad. i think because along with my mom, he's known me the longest, so laughing is sort of like breathing. natural.

i took him to my new house and showed him around the neighborhood....we met some of the beautiful souls i've had the privilege of working with around there. we churned almond butter and bought him some texas beer to take home to drink with my mom.

yesterday we talked about racial tension in the south and what it was like for him as a child in the 60's. it's really cool to let my mind imagine the scenes and the people...the history that he's lived through. i think that's also why i enjoy my dad...simply because he's older than me, so he's got better stories. man he can tell some good stories. so much of my childhood can be summed up in one word. imagination. my parents did an incredible job of nurturing our imagination and sense of wonder at the world. possibility.

we've eaten really good mexican food and really good jamaican. we've walked and talked and sang a little. he probably doesn't know actually how much it means to me that he took the time to come down here. i know he's got responsibility and weighty things to do at home, but he put it aside for a few hot and miserably humid houston days with me. yea i cherish these days. walking under the moss-covered oak trees, reading by the daylight and watching it rain -with my dad.

breath

today i am thankful for...

contended sighs of joy from my friend Paul, thankful for slow mornings with his kids playing in the rain....ragamuffin justice seekers...silly Dr. Seuss stamps and deep belly laughs...redemption and the hope of a new day...honest tears. i'm grateful for memories and smiles from long time friends. leadership training, discipleship. pouring in and pouring out. commitment. mornings filled with three cups of coffee and beautiful sisters. authenticity and the beauty that blossoms out of that. paper flowers. encouragement. family. homemade granola. happy dogs. fresh linens...and hands that hold, feet that move. Christ. gardening. children who want to be loved and played with. imagination and a fighting spirit. my mom. my dad. tradition and heritage. trees. bad-ass women who can stand their ground. roommates. best friends. orange markers. freedom. good food. the underdog. duct tape flowers. peace.

i'm reminded daily to be grateful for what i have, for what i don't have...and to trust my King with this life.

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.