Listening, continued.

Yeah, so... I had great plans to keep up with this thing over the summer. Obviously something different happened, and you know... I'm okay with that.

Instead of filling the interwebs with questionably relevant chatter, I've been listening.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not calling all blogs "questionably relevant" or even chatter. I thoroughly enjoy the blogs I keep up with. It's just what blogging would have been coming from me.

One of these days, I think I'll share some of the meaningful things that have come out of listening this summer, but until then I intend on a good bit more listening (and a good bit less talking).

Creating again...

So, I'm thinkin' the key to being creative is to quit grad school... just kidding. This past week has been host to a new adventure in painting, some handmade baby gifts, and a handmade wedding present. I'm still working on something with the paint-project, so a post about that will have to wait, but in the meantime...

The Date Jar...

Sometime last year (before we moved), Jeromie & I decided to make a date jar. I found a cool, old beat-up container at a local antique store & we filled it with fun ideas for dates. Why? Because we have a slight tendency to take life and ourselves too seriously sometimes. :-) In fact, the date jar has been in hibernation since last spring because we let that happen. And we moved (three times! once half-way across the country...). And we both started grad school. Yeah. We're reviving it. Point taken.

Soooooo... when it came time to make a present for my friend who got married this afternoon, I decided to make another date jar. She and her husband are both in grad school at the same time too, so it just seemed appropriate.

I apologize for the poor picture quality, but I didn't have time to wait for daylight & Jer's off-camera flash thingy is out of battery. :-\

Ingredients:
- one sweet container, preferably old or with a story behind it
- three colors of scrapbooking paper
- one lighter, contrasting color of scrapbooking paper
- some scissors
- some glue
- a pen
- a few fun ideas!!!!

Outcome:

Some ideas to start on...


Some blanks for creating their own ideas

Photo-op with the original date jar :-)

Finished product!

Oh, sweet mercy.

This...



...is approximately what the past 6 months of grad school have made me feel like, more often than not. Note the hair-on-end and buggy eyes.


Now, that's not completely a bad thing. I've been learning A LOT, and (as usual) the brain-frying level of stress has a lot to do with me taking things a little bit *too* seriously at times, not getting any real time for rest, & the rigor of grad school reading requirements. You know there's a lot of reading when someone who LOVES to read is sick of it.

But... my first year of grad school is now officially OVER. :-)

Still to come:
- a year of internship
- another 30-something credit hours
- a lot of prayer & listening
- much, much hope

But first, 37 days of mostly non-academic awesomeness! I discovered yesterday that I have more summer left than I thought, and I'm going to savor it. :-D Hopefully these 37 lovely days will entail a some creativity, cool water, mountain roads & trails, time with friends, and a trip back East amidst the work & site visits I still have left to do.

Just wanted to celebrate. :-) And now... popsicles!

For the love...

Most of the time I *love* being a bike commuter. The part of Denver I live, work, & go to school in is conducive to decent-length commutes & it clears my head.

I do NOT like having 2 flats in 2 days.

There's nothing stuck in my tires.
I'm careful not to pinch the tubes when I replace them.
I avoid pot-holes & jumpy sidewalks & broken glass.

I was okay with one, but two?!?! Apparently I'm making up for lost time. :-p

Okay, I'm done venting. The past few days have been frustrating & I guess a 2nd flat just punched my last button. I'm done.

Three Years...

36 months.
1,096 days.

a lot of sleeping
a lot of waking
a lot of questions
a lot of choices
a lot of miles covered

a lot of living and dying,
often at the same time.

some seasons of action
some seasons of rest
some seasons of hope
some seasons of wonder
some seasons of wondering

some seasons of darkness,
with a tiny candle to light the way.

some seasons of incredible joy,
with the felt warmth of Life and Light...
but whether or not we feel His presence,
Christ is with us, in us.

From our beginning, we've been wrestlers, doubters, hope-ers, love-ers, pilgrims...
Here's to many more years of venturing forth...

hand in hand,

side by side,

with mischief in mind,

and grace all throughout.

I love you, Jeromie Rand

Missing...

So... my life is organized by music, and just about any album I've had for a while brings up vivid memories. Some seasons of my life are characterized by a single song, others by a series of them. As I spent this morning cleaning, I found myself listening to another memory... one that comes up quite often actually.

Hold Me Jesus - Rich Mullins

This song is one that I resonate with anyway, but it will forever bring to mind a good friend - Aaron Pugh.

Aaron was a pretty incredible guy: tireless servant, generous giver, constant encourager, fellow pilgrim, bearer of the love & peace of Christ in many ways to many people. I actually think about him a lot... whenever I take out my bike. He rode too, though I never got to ride with him, and he passed away riding.

Aaron had a big heart... mine was too small and constricted at the time to let him be a good friend to me, and that was my deficiency, not his... I kept everyone out at that time in my life. He didn't let that get in the way, though, and I think that's part of why his life continues to challenge me to do the same. I spent a lot of my life pushing people away from me, and though I'm past that now, I think I still respond in that same old way sometimes when someone pushes me away. That response is not the way I'm called to live, and it is not love.

There's more going on in my heart right now than just memories of Aaron... but those memories brought some things to the surface today that I'd not wrestled with in a while. I guess it's time.

What do you think?

"The first key to wisdom is assiduous and frequent questioning... For by doubting we come to inquiry, and by inquiry we arrive at the truth."
~ Peter Abelard (1079-1142)

Humor & the House of God

I guess I'll start at the bottom of my list of possible topics... after all, I finally have some pictures to share. Mildly amusing ones, too. :-)

So.

At least for the summer (possibly longer), I have one of the least fun jobs I've ever had... BUT it's also been one of the best in a lot of ways.

What do I do??

I clean our church building.

It's really not bad or difficult or anything... it just way larger chunks of time spent with chemicals than I'd prefer! I spent the first week or two gagging as I faced the prospect of cleaning 8 toilets & 2 urinals, but I am now patently unafraid of whatever surprise may greet me AND I have a newfound respect for janitorial staff everywhere! :-) Hmmmm. I'm blogging about toilets... I'll move on now.

I've actually begun to love the time I have each week doing this... once I finish balking at the whole hours-with-chemicals thing, of course. That aside, it's actually some beautiful time for any number of things: singing, thinking, just being quiet, listening for where or how God is stirring in or around me, praying, lamenting, laughing out loud, incurring minor injuries... oh wait, that last one's not a good thing. :-)

This week has been a particularly lovely time, and it began unassumingly with some new-to-me music (The Autumn Film... thanks Rob!). Their song, "Enough" had tears streaming down my face while I was scrubbing toilets - "my heart's been ripped wide open by all the things I didn't need; Your heart's been ripped wide open 'cause I keep chasing other things..." An apt description of my journey with Jesus. Perhaps more on that later.

After processing through that bout of tears, I moved on to some different music... Dave Smith's Two Cities. I knew there was the possibility of crying with this one, but I didn't expect to mop up my own weepy mess!! Okay... slight exaggeration. I don't cry often, and it usually takes a lot to get me there so to find myself crying twice in a day is quite a feat... but it's a very good thing when it happens. Tears are welcome now, and they're an opportunity to find out what has been stirring unknown in my soul.

Anyway... on Two Cities Dave shares a cover he recorded of Genesis's "Take Me Home." His rendition is beautiful and it reminds me of the handful of times that the DCF band played it on a Sunday morning. I'm pretty sure that this song has become one of those hooks that I hang memory and meaning on... I am forever learning what it means to pray for home.

Initially (and sometimes still), the song held for me a longing for my home with God - when I die or He returns, whatever it may look like. Not that I've stopped longing for that, but this earth-ball is where I'm travelling right now and I might be travelling on it for quite a while longer so I'm pretty sure it'd be wise to consider what God has called me to here.

When Jeromie and I left Clemson to move to Denver last August, I'm pretty sure we were both bawling along with the song as we left town in memory of the beautiful family and place we were leaving. A week or so later driving north into Denver from New Mexico, we found ourselves crying tears of joy to the same exact words because we knew that God was all over the move and was bringing us to a new and different home. Over the past few months, unbeknownst to me, my soul has been stirring along with the thought of home as a people. When I sang and cried yesterday, I was not longing for a physical place but loving on and missing and praying for my scattered family... and I was loving on and praying for and rejoicing over the family I have begun to gain here.

I miss my DCF family. I miss our house church there more than I can describe. I miss the connection and the honest tears and the difficult questions and the authentic love of that band of Jesus-followers. But at the same time, God is weaving together an amazing family here too. It does not look the same, and I don't want it to. I want to throw myself in unabashedly with the brothers and sisters I have here. I want to be open and anticipating something amazing, because Jesus is doing just that among us.

And I want to laugh. :-)

So I do.

Part of my family here is the incredible mix that is Wellspring Anglican Church... this is the one whose building I clean. I'll have to write another post sometime soon to talk about Wellsping more, but this post's already gotten longer than I'd planned and I still haven't gotten to the humorous part. We are a diverse pile of people from a bunch of different backgrounds with a shared love: Father, Son and Holy Spirit. We also know how to have fun... just wait for pictures from Sunday's Block Party & small group cookouts!

Apparently we also know how to make one 5'5" cleaning-lady laugh every time she opens her closet door:


This is my twice-a-week companion.
He's a vacuum cleaner.
I'm pretty sure he needs a name.

Also, today I spent about an hour and a half scrubbing out the baptismal tub and I found this little guy:



I might clean the Wellspring building, but the building's not the house of God... we are as a part of His body, and I want to live in THAT house. :-)

P.S. That strange-looking platform? It's a dock. We're turning the sanctuary into a SWAMP this week for Vacation Bible School. Told you we know how to have fun! :-D

I hereby resolve...

... not to play Tetris today.

I know, I know. I could resolve to do (or not do) so many more exciting things, but Tetris it is. I have spent many years convinced that I hated Tetris until Jeromie proved me wrong oh... 2 days ago? I confess that I have wasted a lot of my free time playing Tetris. No wonder my paper isn't done! :-p

Mess & Mercy

There are a lot of days where I feel downright uncomfortable in my own skin... when I am acutely aware of the fact that something is amiss. In my heart. In my relationships. In my world.

As many have said before me, things are not as they were made to be... and yet there is beauty, life, hope... a steady tension... the "already and not yet" of the One True God at work.

My life so far has been a beautiful, ridiculous, little part of a much larger, lovelier story. Beautiful because Jesus is making that way... ridiculous because it's such an odd assortment of mess and mercy, belief and unbelief, brokenness and healing, coming and going, learning and forgetting, travelling and setting up camp for a time, and becoming.

Lately, it's felt like the brokenness was winning... physically, emotionally, relationally... i've been an inconsistent (to some, absent) friend, a difficult wife, an impertinent child, a prodigal yet again... i've added a new (minor) injury to my long list (who knew you could bust yourself vacuuming?!)... i've lost track of the things that are most important to me... so it goes...

But here marks a moment where I've been picked up, dusted off and reminded that this is not the end of the story. :-)

Don't worry...

... I'm still alive, though that status felt debatable just two or three weeks ago (finals!). :-)

I feel like I've learned a lot this past semester, though the bulk of it had little to do with the classes I took. Not saying that I didn't learn anything from classes, but... there is more to grad school (& seminary in particular) than academics.

Possibly coming soon:
- the story of a little ragtag band of travellers...
- miles & miles of percolation (thoughts, not coffee)
- two wheels & grades (the steep kind & the school kind)
- introductions, such as my amusing twice-a-week companion
- who knows what else??!?!?

A Cry for Mercy

"There is so much fear in us. Fear of people, fear of God and much raw, undefined, free-floating anxiety. I wonder if fear is not our main obstacle to prayer. When we enter into the presence of God and start to sense that huge reservoir of fear in us, we want to run away into the many distractions which our busy world offers us so abundantly. But we should not be afraid of our fears. We can confront them, give words to them and lead them into the presence of him who says: 'Do not be afraid, it is I.' Our inclination is to show our Lord only what we feel comfortable with. But the more we dare to reveal our whole trembling self to him, the more we will be able to sense that his love, which is perfect love, casts out all our fears."

~ Henri J.M. Nouwen - A Cry for Mercy

: : : Listening

365 - 3.15 / Perspective / Littleton, CO

* * * * * * *

A rare day in Denver...
Heavy clouds begging,
stop.
look.
listen.
And so I do...

A rare day in history...
Heavy clouds, mourning
stop.
look.
listen.


::: it is finished.


veil : torn
death : scorned
LIFE : born
given
proclaimed
out of
hope : lost and found
at an empty tomb,
in a closed room,
on a dusty road,
as the Spirit falls
and we are called

to
stop.
look.
listen.
and take our first breath,
ALIVE.

Learning...

"It has been said that listening is far more challenging than talking. Listening with genuine, heartfelt interest opens the door to sharing at the depths of who we are."

- Jack & Judith Balswick

Thoughts?

I am...

- not the great I AM.
- very thankful for my friends.

Grad school has been kicking my tail this semester - and moreso than I expected! God seems to be forever teaching me about community, and no less now in the middle of crazy papers and looming midterms.

He has kept me going in a multitude of ways, not limited to...
- random provision of chocolate (yes, i love chocolate now)
- an unexpected gift of coffee
- a much-needed dose of perspective from my dear friend, Becca
- the patient, listening (and cooking) heart of Rosie
- the grace and commiseration of my husband
- permission to take a little time to take care of myself by going for a run

I have a hard time receiving these gifts... I'd rather give them... but it seems God wants me to learn to simply be and listen and revel in the caring hearts and hands of my family and friends.

So, to everyone, and to Jesus most of all: thank you.

Uncertain.

365 - 2.15 / Studying by Candlelight / Littleton, CO

* * * * * * *

The past week or so have been somewhat of an enigma to me. Oh, I have theories, but I'm not sure they fit...

Busy?
- Yes, but there's more to it than that...
Under the weather?
- Yes, but there's more to it than that...
Discouraged?
- Yes, but there's more to it than that...
Afraid?
- Yes, but there's more to it than that...

I'm a little baffled that three weeks of class have already slipped past. Meanwhile, I've already gotten behind on my reading, I've caught a cold and kept it for a week, I've tweaked & turned in my learning contract, I've seen 2 clients, and I've questioned the very core of who I am.

A friend has said that she has many layers, the deepest and best one being chocolate. Lately, I've had the unsettling feeling that my deepest layer is something akin to tar. Black, smelly, and disgusting.

On a cognitive level, I know this is not true. Perhaps I have become tarred over the course of life in a broken world, but my deepest heart is not itself tar. God is up to something good again (as always), but...

For some reason, that's really hard for me cling to and live out of on a heart-level.

So in the past week, I've given up and gotten by. Exhausted and snotty. Soul-weary and overwhelmed. Eyes closed, camera off, sketchbook hidden. Despite a commitment to listen with my heart, I mostly shut it down again - afraid to venture further through the doors opened to me.

To be honest, I'm still on the edge of that place even as I write. But I am not alone and I am not stranded. I am surrounded and embraced by my Creator, Redeemer, and Friend - and by a community of people who are willing to remind me of what is real and true.

I am not sure what God is up to in this season, but I do not need to know the end right now, only that He who began a good work in me will carry it on to completion until the day He returns (Philippians 1:6).

On Being Awake...

"The word I kept hearing in multiple places this morning is "awake." I'm curious what it means for me. Anything for you?"
~ Winn Collier, as his Facebook status

"short answer... it's a state i wish i were in today, more than just physically. it's better than texas. :-)"
~ my too-quick, but still true, response

* * * * * * *

I probably should've thought more about my answer before I posted a comment, but I didn't have the energy to articulate, at that moment, what being awake means for me. So I got to have a little bit of freshly prepared foot* for lunch, but that's okay. As a "transplanted Texan" (see below**), I stand by my claim that being truly awake is better than Texas any day.

And now I shall explain.

For me, being truly awake is far more than a physical state. It's a matter of willingness, awareness, aliveness... where I pop my head out of my little prairie-dog hole and realize that the world, and God in it and beyond it, are far larger than I understand them to be.

To be awake means:
- seeing and listening, with more than just my physical eyes and ears, to God and the world around me
- anticipation, not complacency ~ keeping watch, as in Matthew 25
- letting go of my little life for the sake of loving and serving God and my neighbor
- spending honest, unfettered time with my heart laid bare to Jesus, who has rescued me
- asking hard questions & thinking hard through the possible answers
- encountering the world honestly, genuinely
- remembering what is true
- loving well wherever I find myself - whether work, school, or community
- working well wherever I find myself - whether work, school, or community
- allowing myself to be loved by others
- something God calls me to be
- and much, much, MUCH more...


If I am honest with myself, I don't spend much time awake... and that, my friends, I lament.



* * * * * * *

* - I don't like to stir things up, so I stuck my foot in my mouth. Perhaps unnecessarily. I'm still evaluating that one...
** - Though born in Texas, I grew up in SC, and thus went through all of SC's state history shenanigans. So... when I came home from school in the 3rd-ish grade calling myself a "sandlapper" (the name for a South Carolinian, I guess), my mom went to great lengths to explain that I am not in fact a "sandlapper," and should not call myself that... I'm a "transplanted Texan." I guess it stuck.

Mending Pants & Relationships

365:11

* * * * * * *

There haven't been very many productive days since I got back to Colorado, at least not in the way that I'm used to. I feel a bit aimless without a job or classes at the moment and tend to putter around aimlessly in the morning unless I've made concrete plans the day before. If it's a particularly bad day, the puttering lasts well into the afternoon and isn't necessarily restful. Unfortunately it can be self-pitying puttering, which I hate in myself - a sort of moping without seeking a solution or acting on what I already know to be necessary. Not every day has been like this, there've been more than I'd prefer.

And yet, in this sick-ish puttering, God is somehow at work.

I've been reminded of three things in the past few days:
1) That God's love endures forever;
2) That He will not abandon the work He has begun; and
3) That, while I was still far off (and still sometimes am), Jesus met me and brought me home

I am most certainly a prodigal pilgrim... on a lifelong journey, often returning to God after an absence.

And I'm not just a prodigal in my relationship with God... it seems I am just as much of one with my husband, Jeromie - though we see each other daily, I think we've both struggled to be fully present in this past year. Instead of fighting for our marriage, as we ought, we've taken the easier road of co-existing. Especially in our time as students... cause boy does school demand a lot.

Not good.

But God's been up to something between us in this puttering time... an awakening of sorts, and a conviction and a call: to fight for each other and for our marriage, even when we're tempted to run & hide.

So... if you know us, whether you're nearby or far away, hold us to it.

* * * * * * *

The closing prayer from this morning at Wellspring:
Father of all, we give you thanks and praise, that when we were still far off you met us in your Son and brought us home. Dying and living, he declared your love, gave us grace, and opened the gate of glory. May we who share Christ’s body live his risen life; we who drink his cup bring life to others; we whom the Spirit lights give light to the world. Keep us firm in the hope you have set before us, so we and all your children shall be free, and the whole earth live to praise your name; through Christ our Lord. Amen.

Weathered & Weathering

365:6

* * * * * * *

Seems like right when I decide to keep my eyes and heart open, there's an incredible temptation to just shut them and give up. That would most certainly describe yesterday and, unfortunately, the better part of today. I wish I could say I withstood the temptation, but not today. Oh, I tried yesterday, but today I gave up. And then I realized what I was doing.

So... I went for a run - camera in hand, heart hopeful - and at least at first, every step was a chore. It didn't really get any easier as the run progressed, but I felt better just for being out. Ended the run at my local yarn store, found some materials to knit Jer a scarf, walked home in the wind, appreciated the rare overcast afternoon, and spotted something new (to me) in my favorite alleyway just behind the house.

Old shed. Old shingles. Obviously beaten by years of sun and snow. But still kickin' it one day at a time.

It's funny the things God uses to put things in perspective for me.

I'll just keep kickin' it. One day at a time.

365 : The Little Things

365:4

* * * * * * *

If there's one thing I've learned in the past few years, it's that little things can make a big difference. A word, a glance, a hug, a few minutes of stillness, a nap, a sneaky-plan, a flash of unsuspecting beauty here & gone...

There are periods of my life where I just let the little things float on by, and in the process I tend to forget what's important. I really don't want to live like that. If you know me and you see me slipping into that... call me on it. :-)

So. One of my hopes for this coming year, and for life in general, is for eyes that see and ears that hear. I want to be captivated, captured, arrested, awed by God's active presence in and around me because He is near and He has dwelt here among us. Emmanuel.

There are lots of 365's floating around the interwebz, so this idea is not a Liz-original, but I'll take it & adapt it & run. With the lovely camera I received for Christmas (thanks Jeromie!), I hope to capture a few of the things that speak to me, hopefully one each day, and share some of them here (aesthetically pleasing or not).

* * * * * * *

"To work on a book is for me very much the same thing as to pray. Both involve discipline. If the artist works only when he feels like it, he's not apt to build up much of a body of work. Inspiration far more often comes during the work than before it, because the largest part of the job of the artist is to listen to the work, and to go where it tells him to go. Ultimately, when you are writing, you stop thinking and write what you hear.

To pray is to listen also, to move through my own chattering to God, to that place where I can be silent and listen to what God may have to say. But, if I pray only when I feel like it, God may not choose to speak. The greatest moments of prayer come in the midst of fumbling and faltering prayer, rather than the odd moment when one decides to try to turn to God."

~ Madeleine L'Engle
Walking on Water: Reflections on Faith & Art