truth has stumbled.

I really, really did not expect to feel this way.  I’ve felt almost removed from the whole election process, even though I’ve prayed a lot for it (just goes to show, praying knits your heart to something more than you might think).  But I’ve just thought, I belong to a different Kingdom.  God will use whoever sits in that oval office.

But today, I feel really concerned.  I feel mad at the American people and how loudly they have spoken in favor of the shedding of innocent blood.  That is scary.  Scary to me.

I know that in this hour, the Church is going to shine like never before, because the darkness is probably going to be gloomier than we’ve seen.  It’s our glory to display His shining, colorful holiness.

And in the midst, I keep plugging along, helping doctors get insurance, organizing meetings, chasing deadlines, and experimenting with tofu.  It’s days like this that make me long for Jesus’ return.

all i want in life is to be a farmer.

Here’s why, in the words of Gene Logsdon in his book The Contrary Farmer:

 

The garden is the only practical way for urban societies to come in close contact with the basic realities of life….To feel the searing heat as well as the comforting warmth of the sun, or to endure the dry wind as well as the soothing breeze; to pray for rain but not too much rain; to long for a spate of dry weather but not too long; to listen to the music of nature as well as the rock beat of human culture; to know that life depends on eating and being eaten; to accept the decay of death as the only way to achieve the resurrection of life…these are all part of an education that the industrial world hungers for but cannot name.

 

i do hunger for reality.  and for roots.  i want to buy a little place far away from the Grid, and buy nothing but oil.

things i love about my life.

Let me preface this by saying that it has been a hard week.  That’s all I’ll say on that.  Or is it?  Can you relate to feeling caught between a rock and hard place who are both crying out for you to make them happy?  And can you relate to feeling that every drop of glamour, excitement, and idealism has drained out of your life?  Can you relate to hating bureaucracy and getting paid to wade through it with no shore in sight…not even a sand bar.

Well, I had a better day.  I sort of got some breakthrough today, even.  And as I was walking to take the trash out after my run, I felt absolutely exhilarated (thank You, Lord, for endorphins).  I started to think about things I love about my life:

• I am never in a hurry anymore.  Want to have coffee with me?  I’ll give you my whole evening.
• I can run without feeling competitive, driven, or guilty (for not going farther/faster).  I just run for fun.
• The glorious people who care for me and I for them.  It means more than I ever thought it could for someone to hear me and take it to heart and tell me their hearts in a way that shows trust.
• Sitting on my couch in the morning with the most incredible Man Who takes care of me and speaks life to my soul and goes with me to my office every day.
• The emails that appear in my inbox every couple of weeks from someone I so love being friends with.
• The gentle rhythms of my days and weeks, like the waves.  If I let them, they get monotonous.  But if I look beyond them, into the deep ways of the Mastermind, they are so beautiful.

banana, maple, peanut butter cupcakes.

that’s what i made tonight with mary, my wonderful (truly delightful) roommate.  you should have the recipe.  the cupcakes were banana maple and the frosting was a thick, peanut butter thing that turned more into caramel than anything.  we used what we had.  and it was amazing!  a delicious splurge on a monday night.

 

 

and i am happy.  laughter is so close to the surface these days.

libraries.

i joined a library yesterday.

the librarian, like all librarians, had on large round glasses with translucent brown frames and red socks with her adidas.  i could see the red socks because her tapered jeans were just a tad too short.

i perused the dvds (which included an amazing assortment of political documentaries and almost nothing made since 1995) and heard what i thought was a cell phone going off behind me…jazzy, somewhat annoying music.  but it kept going off.  and kept going off.

so i looked behind me.  there was a woman sitting in relaxed posture at a computer, watching a YouTube video at top volume.  the Asian woman across the computer station from her was glaring, and raised one eyebrow at me as if to ask, “are you going to do anything about this?”

i thought it was hilarious, and tried to enjoy the music, bobbing a little to it as i moved from the section on Nixon to the section on Reagan.  

there was a little, three-sided box on the floor made of yellow tape and a sign said, “Wait in the yellow box for the next available librarian.”  i watched as a mom, probably in her thirties, walked over to the box and stood obediently there, holding a baby on her hip.  she had short brown hair and khaki, high-waisted shorts.  she called over one little six year old boy to stand in the box with her, and another one, probably three, followed reluctantly in his Superman cape.

they waited.

and waited.

two librarians sat at the desk, one intent on her computer screen, and the other gesturing as she talked to someone on the phone about a book.

finally, a smiling, dark-skinned man looked out into the library from a side desk and called, “Who’s next?”  

since the mom and three kids were the only ones near the desk, i wondered why he didn’t just say, “i can help you now,” or something.  

i finally chose a cookbook and a book on the new cottage home and took my place in the yellow box.  the same man looked blankly into the library with a forced smile and said, “Who’s next?”  

“uh, i am,” i said, feeling like a child again.  

libraries have that affect on me.  i return to the days when we’d gather around and listen to story time behind the fabric accordion door, or check out Calamity Jane on VHS for the thousandth time, or go back to the section on horses again, hoping they’d have ordered a new book.

they’re like a time capsule. i can come from a management meeting or a phone conference or a long afternoon of researching some new project…feeling so grown up in my slacks and heels…

and then all of a sudden, there i am in the yellow box, cradling my books, waiting for someone to notice and call, “Who’s next?”

i am alive.

i just had one of the best mornings that i’ve had maybe ever.  after my first work week (i loved it…feel a little like a fish out of water…but i think it’s going to be good), i got up this morning (since when did 7:00 am become “sleeping in”?  oh yeah.  this week.) and drove out to Johnson’s Backyard Garden, a local 120-member CSA, where i was going to do a work-share, which means i work and they share. 

produce, that is.  lots of veggies para mi.

 

as i picked little, stickery cucumbers off their vines, smelling the cantaloupes on the next row, i wondered, how have i lived without doing this? 

i love the dirt.

 

then i got to pick squash and zucchini.  (i want to open a restaurant called zucchini’s.  what do you think?)  then eggplant…  so beautiful.  like glossy purple jewels hanging thick on green and mauve plants.

 

then i rode a tractor!  will and jeff, two interns who work 6 am to 4 pm on the farm Monday-Saturday, recruited me to help them plant some little eggplant plants fresh out of the greenhouse.  i got to ride on the sweeeeeeeeeeeeetest tractor, called a transplanter, and drop little plants into the holes that the tractor poked into plastic and then filled with water.  it looked like this:

only i was where the guy in the picture is and jeff was where the girl is.  but it was so fun.  and i got to pick jeff’s brain about horticulture, agriculture, and austin culture.  good times.

 

then i got some amazing veggies i’m going to live on all week…squash, onions, cherub tomatoes, cucumbers, peppers…

 

and THEN i went to mandola’s with aunt chris and camille!  aunt chris treated me, even though i was dirty from working, and we ate eggplant-zucchini-goat cheese pizza and talked for two hours.  aaah.  thank you, Jesus.  for everything.

vineyards in a wilderness.

I’m in the waiting stage.  I’ve tried to jump ahead and push my way through multiple times…

• searching for a place to live
• thinking i found the place to live and practically signing the lease
• wishing i was dating
• running headlong into yet another situation of unavailability (I’m going to learn one day not to like someone who’s in another state, not ready to date, or already dating…I really am)
• wanting things and thinking about it a lot…realignment of my wheels on my car, heels for work, a ticket to LA to see Rachel, a new computer, books about project management…but not having a paycheck yet

 

But the Lord is clearly speaking that He’s allured me into the wilderness and He wants me to just

 

WAIT.

 

No more pushing ahead with my own agenda.  Just wait for His surprises!  He wants me all to Himself right now.  He wants me for His pleasure.  And I want to be His resting place, the one He looks to when His eyes are searching for someone loyal.  I don’t want to be the grumbling girl.  But sometimes I just feel like

• fingerpainting angry colors
• getting in my car and driving fast
• and not caring that I might as well be setting hundred dollar bills on fire.

 

…waiting…

life or death.

Forsake all.

For me to live is Christ and to die is gain.

“Father, I desire that they might be with Me where I am…”

The Desire of all nations.

It’s a dance…and right now, I feel like I’m dancing at my own funeral a lot of the time.  Sorry if that sounds morbid.  I don’t mean literally.  I just mean that feeling in my stomach that even my mirror doesn’t understand.  I’m tired, but not in a way that an early bedtime relieves.  I’m sick, but incurable.

I don’t even think apples or raisin-cakes can help. 

I have to lean.  I need to lean.  Bring me out leaning.  My friends and family want to hear my voice, but it doesn’t work anymore.  Only You can hear it.  Only You…