Of Balloons and Birthdays. . .

Last week I turned a number a little shy of forty. Hard to realise my thirties are more behind me than ahead. I've enjoyed my thirties as a much more stable (though less spontaneous) place than my twenties. I might dream fewer dreams, but the ones I do dream feel attainable rather than wild and impossible. Not to say that some wild and impossible dreams haven't become realities (studying and living in Oxford twelve years ago, for example!).


Many of my dreams (though not all) lie in being in a good community of believers at work, at church, and in my small group... They lie in being safe and seen and loved. In knowing that God is God and I am not...and when I'm afraid He is present and capable and in control.


Rather than telling you 38 things I loved about the last year (which I could do!) or 38 things I want to do this coming year (which I'm not sure I could do yet), let me show you some of what I'm thankful for (relationships that are anywhere from brand-new to twenty years in the making).



 

The hostess trio (Brenna, Lyndi, & Carrie)     +     Grace, Jeremy, and Brenna again ;)



 

The whole crew and the A-mazing fruit tart made by the more amazing Lyndi!

Me and my man =]

_____

A couple of days later, Nick turned a number much closer to thirty than I did... We celebrated together with his mum at Cheddars. Yum! (Not pictured: four amazing cookies from Crumbl Cookie: Key Lime Pie, Cookies n'Cream, Churro, and Blueberry Muffin)


 

This is the man I feel safe with. The man who makes my heart sing. The man who I don't have to be 'on' around. The man who holds me close and I fit there perfectly. The man who still gives me butterflies. The man I pray for. The man who calls me darling and makes my heart melt. . . The man who is home.

Fall into me and I'll catch you, darlin'

We'll dance in the street like nobody's watching

It's just you and me and the song on repeat in my head

Playing over and over

I'm drunk on your voice high on the moment

I'd fall for you twice if that's what you wanted

I'd give you my life from now till forever

I'm falling in love with you

Over and over again

Until I had met you

There was no sun in my sky

No mirrors for monsters

And no love in sight

Then you walked down those stairs

And I knew my heart wasn't mine

On the day that I met you

My whole world came alive

—Forest Blakk, Fall into Me

Summer Friday Nights

 

BLUE EYED GIRL

When you hold my hand in yours, 

there is wonder written on your face

I'd love to live inside your heart, 

because it is a wonderful place

Well, I’d been writing songs about you

 before our paths ever crossed

Since I’ve been hanging around you, 

I’ve been feeling a little less lost

.:CHORUS:. 

Blue eyed girl, 

let your hair hang down

Let the colours of your soul 

spill out for everyone to see

In a world of black and white and grey, 

you paint something beautiful every day

I can't think of a better way 

to spend the time I have

So I'll spend it with you, 

my blue eyed girl

I’ll march right along to your beat; 

the rhythm of your spirit makes 

me feel much more alive

There’s wisdom in the way you speak, 

and I see "I love you" in your eyes

I wouldn’t mind staying up 

talking to you all night

As you're telling me everything 

about the books you read

.:Chorus:.

Before you came along my skies 

were often dark and clouded, 

but the atmosphere is clear 

now that you're here

 I’ve heard my whole life that 

home is where the heart is, 

but I cannot feel at home 

when you’re not near

.:Chorus:.

The Arcadian Wild ℗ 2015 Vohnic Music LLC Composer, Lyricist: Lincoln Mick

Hosptitality for the Life of the World

   

When you walk through the front door of my home, twinkle lights, pressed leaves, and a few hundred books greet your eyes. Written across one mirror you’ll see the words, “I want to join God in bringing healing into people’s lives¹.” Though I’m not a doctor, a counsellor, or a pastor, I desperately desire to help heal the brokenness I encounter daily. For me, offering this healing many times looks like evenings of connecting with others over a meal.

While the embodiment of hospitality comes in many forms, my tiny cabin best allows for evenings of feeding others’ eyes and appetite with beautiful, savoury food in an atmosphere of warmth and openness. This sort of hospitality not only shares a meal but feeds another’s soul by seeing them and being seen by them, by listening to their soul and holding back advice unless asked.

For some of us, limited space invites creativity in how (or how many) we can host. Recently, one of my single friends said he can’t host people since his apartment doesn’t have a table. But while hospitality often happens around tables, it also comes curled up on couches with mugs of something hot or nestled in armchairs with plates perched on our knees. Whether we serve gourmet food or simple fare, feeding the body helps us connect with others in a more open, relaxed way—physically, emotionally, and spiritually. There’s nothing like inviting a friend into our space to enjoy being present with one another.

Healing Begins When We Embody Scripture

God starts the story of the world with plants for food, with trees that are both beautiful and edible, delighting the senses. God provides daily bread for the Israelites, bodily food as a sign of His hospitality and faithfulness in the wilderness. Jesus begins His public ministry at a wedding feast, turning water into wine, an image of His blood poured out for many. Jesus deliberately comes to us embodied, offering His body as food and drink (John 6:48-51) for the life of the world.

God’s hospitality floods the pages of Scripture, so it is every bit on purpose that in the coming Kingdom of God, the blessed are invited to the marriage supper of the Lamb (Rev 19:6-9). In that supper of feasting and drinking, our bodies and souls will be made glad in His presence.

Our bodies are never overlooked in God’s story. They connect us to Him, to others, and to the earth in a myriad of ways. We experience our selves in our bodies, and these clay houses can serve as the doorway from hurt into healing. With a warm meal and a hearing heart, I join God in bringing healing to others by inviting them into sacramental life² in my tiny home.

_____

FN 1: Boyett, Micha, Found (Brentwood, TN: Worthy Publishing, 2014) pg 16

FN 2: “Centuries of secularism have failed to transform eating into something strictly utilitarian. Food is still treated with reverence. A meal is still a rite—the last “natural sacrament” of family and friendship, of life that is more than “eating” and “drinking.” To eat is still something more than to maintain bodily functions. People may not understand what that “something more” is, but they nonetheless desire to celebrate it. They are still hungry and thirsty for sacramental life.”  

Alexander Schmemann, For the Life of the World (Crestwood, NY: St Vladimir’s Seminary Press, 1963) pg 16

Photo by Gaelle Marcel on Unsplash

Originally published for the Navigators' Spring 2022 edition of Upfront.

Purim

 

Tonight was the full moon Shabbat occurring closest to Purim, the holiday celebrated by the Jewish community in honour of God saving the Jews from destruction back before Jesus was born. Purim involves wine, dressing up in costumes, eating hamentashen (Haman's hat/pockets/ears—depending on your tradition/etymology)—jam-filled, triangle cookies, giving alms to the poor, and reading the book of Esther (cheering for Mordecai and jeering against Haman when their names were read).

Did I mention that people dress up? Not exactly in formal wear, but in our case, in order to dress up like Esther or Vashti, formals worked perfectly! These are my small group gals! (We're missing two...and I don't think we took photos of the fellows, oops.)

This work of art is Haman. That's Challah Haman, to you! He was made by Brienne and we thought he was fabulous! I ate his beard with butter. And his eyes are hard-boiled eggs to pluck out. How fearfully gruesome! 

 

There was much wine to go with the challah... Making it a true Shabbat!

 

All in all, a fun and fabulous evening was had... Especially by the boys, who all dressed up as superheroes and helped us with the booing and the hooraying whilst eating cookies. :) Who could possibly have more fun with that?

 

Breck!

Skiing in Breck for the first time in a couple of years—so fun (though I think I'll be bruised for days...)!

 

   It was soooo warm out for the first half of the day! Definitely got a little sunburned...

Tosha-the-Brave and Jody-the-Tenacious

The four Adventurers!

   Linnet, Tosh, and me in Breck... Thanks to David for taking our photo. :)

    All photos provided by Tosha-the Brave

A Gust of August

[August] is the cruellest month...but this year it has been much kinder. Still pretty hot, but I've managed to get to small group almost every week, which is so very life-giving.

There was Ben and Claire's wedding to kick off the month—such a Beautiful celebration of the love of God and the love between a husband and wife. Their first act as husband and wife was not to kiss but the receive and then offer the Eucharist. As Ben sobbed, "Jody, this is the body of Christ...broken because He...Loves you so much" tears coursed down my own cheeks. Here indeed is love in my eyes and in my hands, on my tongue, burning my throat. And here is joy—the marriage of Heaven and Earth, the Bridegroom and Bride, and my two dear friends. ❤

Image Credit: Natasha Smith (NAS Focus)

There was a fun date with Nick (no photos, alas!)... Thai food eaten on his truck's tailgate whilst watching the sunset over the Peak... Playing "Never have I ever" while we ate and walked more miles than I should have in those shoes.

And there was a long sunset drive to think and pray one weekend.

There was a lovely 8 mile tromp with Lyndi and her Katie-sister (who is, by default, my Katie-sister, too) around sparkling blue waters and a rushing creek...past a bridge and slender stands of aspen. 

I'm thankful for the new slant of the sun and the nip in the night air. The changing of seasons whispers in these last days of the month. I'm looking forward to September, though it holds its own sorrows, I pray it also holds joy.

Happy Summer

A photo collage of July life...

 Easter lilies (in July!) as tall as my shoulder! 

Baseball game with my small group...

...and Nick =]

Lonesome Lake with Tosha...

...and Lynnette!

Dawn's birthday! I love these women. :)

I'm missing a few things... Loads of Bible Project podcasts... Dinner conversations and a hike with Matt when he was in town... Lemonade and front-porch sittin' with Jack... Small group gatherings at the Henderson's home... Hugs at church and tea with my Lauren-neighbour... Lots of conversations on the tailgate of a FedEx truck... And way too many hours inside my office/basement—though some were with Elli, and she makes office hours enjoyable, even in the basement. ;)

Once upon a time it was my birthday...

And for my birthday, I got a Max-friend! There were a lot of dinosaurs involved in the making of this fabulous week...

The dinosaur is the one on the left

Look what I found to get me to work!

I made a friend named Cera

She posed better with Max better, however

Look out Max, there's an incoming carnotaurus!
And also a Lyndi-friend, but she's safe...
...in spite of that look she's giving the camera. ;)

What? We are perfectly normal...

See...normal!

All dressed up for the Cliff House!

Dinner was delectable and the classical
guitarist (Wayne) made the evening 'specially lovely!

Magical snow!
I believe I was dusting Max with a snowball here...

And then I got 'eated' by a great white shark,

in the land-locked state of Colorado. ;)

The end!

Kindness Makes Me Cry

What a month it has been. . . In the last 30 days I have flown on 2 airplanes, been in 1 wedding, attended a second wedding, eaten Chipotle during 2 wedding weekends, danced for at least 2 hours, hand-written 25+ pages (double-sided), talked on the phone for 33 hours, worked more hours that I want to count, welcomed 1 new baby into our community, and lost 1 friend to death.

Two weeks ago I experienced one of the hardest weeks of the year. In the span of seven days I was asked to resign as an editor over a difference of opinions, had to kill a suffering mouse with a rock, offered a listening ear to an upset friend, found out a different friend ended their life, and had to have a hard personal conversation with yet another friend. I called it the week from Hell, because so much of that week was shot through with death in one form or another, and that is the work of Hell.

But this past week was balm to my soul. I didn't work overtime. My sweet neighbour came over for dinner and a walk. My Scripture circle met under a double rainbow, sharing some things I've been chewing on this week—or more accurately, things that have been chewing on me. I wrote my heart out. I got to spend three precious hours with one of my best friends. A couple of friends and my family were so kind to pray for me and check in on me often. My sister sent me a box of sunshine. The friend who needed a listener sent me cheese, chocolate, and flowers in the form of a totally unexpected gift-card. The CEO of our company wrote me a kind note and gave me a gift-card for my ten year anniversary at work. And today, my boss got married. 

Just like the Hell-week had redemptive moments and hours, this balm-week had its dark moments and its bitter tears. But there were so many good conversations in both weeks. So many walks and cups of tea and scudding clouds across the moon. There were invitations into sorrow and invitations into deep joy. There were things that scared me, but I did them. There were things that wounded me and others, but we are walking with one another into healing.

This evening, in the midst of deep joy and fun on the dance floor, without warning, familiar notes washed over the room. I've never seen so many people scatter for exits so quickly when there was no emergency. . . The DJ couldn't have known that playing "Don't Stop Believin" would be incredibly painful for nearly a dozen people. He couldn't have known that a few days ago we found out our friend, Mike, was dead. "Don't Stop Believin" was Mike's theme song. If I heard it blasted from the classroom once a summer, I heard it half a dozen times a summer. I like that song, but tonight it made me sad. Yet, in a way, it was like Mike was there in spirit. Like maybe he was dancing, too. 

This week so many beautiful, good, kind, and joy-filled things happened. It doesn't fill the maw of Hell-week. No. In some ways, it stuffs goodness down the throat of the aching blackness and still overflows everywhere. And in some ways, that gaping emptiness of Hell-week carves a pit in the many of us it touched. The wound of death does not heal here, not fully. I will always bleed a little of my heart out for the friend I lost nearly two years ago. Our world will always bleed a little for the loss of Mike. Goodness doesn't fix the not good. 

Sorrow and grief over many things still clench my heart and make me cry. But the kindness of family and friends also makes me cry. The deep gift of love, the deep joy of watching my friends get married makes me cry. I cried hearing my friends exchange their wedding vows and hearing their people toast them. And I cried tears of loss watching the father-daughter dance, because I want to get that experience and I don't know that I ever will. And simultaneously, I cried tears of anger and hurt that a person who might have given me that chance declined to even try. And I cried the achingly sweet tears that come when you hear grown men say "My life is what it is partly because of you, and I love you" to another man in front of a whole crowd of people. 

Hell-week wasn't all bad. And balm-week wasn't all good. Even something so beautiful and deeply good as a wedding brought all kinds of mixed emotions—joy, pain, sweetness, grief, and hope... Hope of these friends birthing light in the darkness our world is falling into. And lest it all sounds like this hope or joy or kindness springs from my friends, it doesn't. Its source is God the Father, showering His deep affection on us (often through other people) where we are—whether that is a place of pain or gladness, or a mix of sorrow, joy, sadness, loss, hurt, and hope all co-mingled. And let's be honest, we're often an amalgamation of emotions, not feeling one at once, but many (even conflicting) emotions at once. That is the agony and the beauty of being human.

Grief makes me weep. Sorrow makes my heart bleed. But alongside these, kindness makes me cry.

Give Thanks with a Grateful Heart

Things I'm thankful for today. . .

• Little birds twittering in the trees above my porch
  
  
• Gentle warmth and cloud cover and sunlight dancing through leaves
  
  
• Delectable tea... I blended Black Cask Bourbon, New England Breakfast, and Tippy Yunan for this morning's brew.
  
  
• Colours! Gentle yellow-white light filtered through verdant leaves; pale green avocado, bright red strawberries, creamy orange apricots, and Polish pottery cerulean; magenta geraniums peeking out of the flowerbox next to a cheery yellow watering can... Colour, colour everywhere!
  
  
  
  
  
  
• Music. I adore music. Good music, that is. Today that is Joy Williams. Recently it has been The Petersens, Hollow Coves, Peter Bradley Adams, and The Western Den.
  
  
• Friends. I am oh-so-thankful for friends! Whether it is friends I have known a hundred years (give or take a zero) sitting across the way journalling in quiet, or friends I haven't seen in years who text me "Less than a week!" when I am finally going to see them soon, or friends I've only known a year or two... I'm thankful for their presence; their heart-sharing; their life-sharing; their love; their wisdom; their differences of opinion (even when I don't like it); their grace; their truth-telling; their e-mails with links to books, poems, sermons, music, and more; their sharing the face of Jesus with me in different facets.
  
  
• Kindness from almost-friends. What to call these people whom I pray for and care for, but I'm not really "friends" with exactly? Almost-friends, that's what. They are the people who remember that you would like them to deliver this big box to an address not on the box (please-and-thank-you), the ones who stand at your door and chat about random things for a few minutes in their busy day, who deliver the mail, who make your day just a little brighter by being them and by being kind.
  
  
• The dobro (resonator guitar). Seriously, this is a cool instrument. [My favourite line in this song is "tea leaves steep"—of course.]
  
  
• Words—luscious, rich, bright, deep, painful, heart-splitting, heart-healing words.
  
  
• Prayer. Specifically the prayers of Every Moment Holy. There is a liturgy for all kinds of things: sunsets and birthdays, first snows and the the lament of finishing a good book... All kinds of prayers to make us stop and attend to this life we are living.
  
  
• There are a hundred other things I'm thankful for, but one of them is work, which I need to do right now...   

Glory Be to God for Dappled Things (Photo Update)

Typed words have been slow in coming this summer. Conversations have been far more prevalent this summer. My typed thoughts sit in a nice pile of drafts, unfinished. My conversations seem to simply go on and grow as the summer progresses. Poems have given way to painting. I have been thinking about life and Godliness through the lens of Harry Potter and a couple of thought-provoking films; through lots of conversations and the reading of a few CS Lewis pieces.

As it has been a while since I've actually published something here, I thought I would post a few photos from the summer to mark its progress.

Gog and MaGog with Tosha, Michael, and Ben (early June) 6mi

Some painting inspired by hard conversations, sad things happening to friends, and by the moon

Ditto

4th of July with my family!

Some reflections whilst listening to Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

Shrine Ridge wildflower hike with Tosha (late July) 6mi

Butler Gulch hike with Tosha (early August) 4?mi

Hiking Mt Sherman (14,036ft) 5.25mi

With these fellows (Aaron and Ben)

The end of the Mt Sherman hike, back by the truck. . .

Somewhere along the way I spent time with a couple of Oxford friends (Kasey June and both Kevin J and Kevin B); hyperventilated with laughter with Lyndi and Katie; watched Harry Potter 1-4 (so far) with the neighbours; watched Cinderella Man with a few other neighbours; had long phone calls or chats on the stairs by my house with various folks; got to see sweet AnnaClaire and talk (over dinner and cheese); sat on my porch and read Lewis while my sweet Brooke-friend journalled; have had a few interesting conversations with our bookstore intern; sat and listened to a local bluegrass band downtown; went to a lecture on Harry Potter and the Way of Power by Kyle Strobel; have had the opportunity to listen to Kevin Bywater speak; and have enjoyed hearing a lot of rain on the roof and the crickets—because maintenance replaced the pool motor with one that is much quieter!

All in all, it has been a very good summer and a growing summer. I am learning to lay down expectations and receive life as God hands it to me. I am learning to put up wiser boundaries with people and work (very much a practise and a process). I am learning to be faithful where I am. I am striving to not violate my conscience in the small matters that add up. I am more alive to Beauty and Hope. The Holy Spirit is breathing His life-giving breath on and in me—turning me from cold stone into living flesh and rippling hair. There is light and high Beauty beyond the shadow—weakness that is power that the darkness cannot fathom. There is life in sacrificial death. Loyalty and friendship have been embodied in stories, in the people I get the priviledge of knowing. Life is full—full of the glory of God.

All shall be well, and all manner of things shall be made well.