selah

ahh...rest. Selah is a biblical term that I've referenced before. As I've heard it translated, it's like a holy pause. Beautiful.

I'm about to embark on a weekend of utter calm with three of my best friends. Cass, E, Jeter and I are all heading down to Big Cedar Lodge in Missouri to kick it and relax. I've been there twice before, and it's a beautifully tranquil place where calm permeates, perspective is gained, and if I get quiet enough, I think God's going to tell me some great stuff. Truly, selah.

While I can't fully convey how much I'm looking forward to this, I think my playlist might reflect how excited I am. So, without further ado...the perfect playlist for a resort just outside of Branson, MO, where you intend to relax with three amazing women, and return connected to the Americana spirit. Check it, jam out, and get excited for summer.

The playlist is long, but I ain't got nowhere to go :)

Jammin' - Bob Marley
Unplayed Piano - Damien Rice
A Boy Named Sue - Johnny Cash
Shame on You - Indigo Girls
Pink Moon - Nick Drake
Chicago - Sufjan Stephens
My Slumbering Heart - Rilo Kiley
Two Step - Dave Matthews Band
Moondance - Van Morrison
Float On - Modest Mouse
Well Runs Dry - Browntown
Trying to Reason with Hurricane Season - Jimmy Buffett
Get Rhythm - Johnny Cash
Three Little Birds - Bob Marley
Stutter - Andy Stochansky
Ants Marching - Dave Matthews Band
Margaritaville - Jimmy Buffett
Beautiful Girl - The Nadas
Tightly - Neko Case
Send Me on My Way - Rusted Root
32 Flavors - Ani DiFranco
Heart of Gold - Neil Young
Beast of Burden - Rolling Stones

Enjoy yourselves this weekend...I know I will.

"Take a picture, sweetie"

"....I ain't got time to wait!" (Prince: Baby I'm a Star)

Although the song lyric is a titch arrogant, it's one of my favorite happy songs, and I FELT like a star on Saturday. Not because I AM a rockstar (although I WAS wearing purple), but because I was loved so beautifully.

Above pics:
-My girl, Cass. Holla for the money volunteer.
-My new Kenyan friends. Holla for Kenya!
-Table decorations. Um, Holla for Friday morning painting, and volunteers with style?
-A VERY bad pic of me, but...Holla for me!
-Julius with his rockstar hair twists. Holla for old Kenyan friends, and one-half of the beautifully driven couple that is Soulfari Kenya.

It is well

There's an old hymn called "It is well with my soul." I remember singing it a while ago in church somewhere, and as I was praying yesterday night, it popped into my head.

It is well with my soul.

Hmmm. Say it out loud to yourself. You'll understand how much impact those words have.

I Merriam-Webstered (This is a new term I made up. It's like "googled," only for word dorks) the word "well" and when it's an adverb, look at these possible meanings for the word:

1. without doubt or question.
2. to a large extent or degree.
3. in a familiar manner.

Wow. I could say that I feel settled, happy, calm, or blessed, and none of these could accurately describe what's going on in the aftermath of Saturday's Upendo event. But, it is well with my soul, now that conveys something powerfully quieting.

Upendo was fun, educating and uplifting, but that's not even what caught me - I've never felt so loved in my entire life. A roomful of people showed up because they believed in me. They believe in a passion that is creeping into every aspect of my life. I'm becoming wholly identified with this desire to help, and people's attendance, charity and assistance affirmed that my purpose is good.

It is well with my soul.

A herculean effort was split naturally amongst my friends with minimal stress and strain. Everyone stepped up and had fun in the process. New friendships were made. People metaphorically reached across an ocean to embrace a Kenyan living in America. Color differences were appreciated. Causes were mixed.

It is well with my soul.

I've talked in previous posts about a need to be fixed, to feel complete. Well, one of the final definitions listed for well was this -

1. to an extent approaching completeness.

It is well with my soul :)

Spread the upendo (love)!

Saturday, March 25
7 - 10 p.m.
Chameleon Arts & Youth Development


There's so much to talk about, and in the coming weeks, I'll hopefully be posting more and more about the Upendo party details, but I'll leave this at the top for now. I hope you all can make it.

One Fine Day

This pretty much sums up how I feel about my day off - rock.star.

This morning's thoughts from my orange journal:

This day is beautiful. An innocent gift from God. Sleeping in, making breakfast, watching juvenille movies about hope, and painting...glorious frame painting.

It's beautiful outside. I'm eating cheese. Lord, I really like cheese - and the fact that my trees are blooming. The red ones are like my own personal cherry blossoms. What a gift.

The glorious thing is that you bless me like this every day...I'm just too blind or busy to see it. Thank you for simplicity. For my iPod and music. Thank you for turkey sandwiches, Reese's peanut butter eggs, Easter, acryclic paints, Prince, my bible, The Father of the Bride, and Georgia O'Keeffe. For Cass, Courtney, Elena, Kelli, Elizabeth, Sarah, Julius, Antony. My parents, my brother, Audrey Hepburn, sunshine, sharpies, vintage purses and dresses, hummus, vegetables, bananas, coffee, and everything else you've ordained for my pleasure.

Thank you. Thank you, Yahweh.

Yup. I'm in a supercalifragalistic-type of good mood. Life rules. I'm so lucky. So blessed. So ready to party tomorrow night! I can't wait to see you all at Upendo. I've been busily preparing with a stellar team of friends that believe in the future of Africa as much as I do. I'm amazed by people's generosity, and I can't wait for God to blow my mind tomorrow night.

So, I've spent today just resting. Resting in the promise that anything God ordains will succeed. I'm not sure what success will look like, but I can't wait to be surprised, and watch people smiling, eating, laughing, dancing and loving each other.

This party definitely has a purpose, but I hope that it extends beyond simply collecting the financial provision for my trip. I pray it inspires hope, community and love and that it will make even the busiest person pause to see how good life is when you slow down.

So, I hope you'll all be there tomorrow, with bells on, ready to shake it and laugh...and give me a big hug while we celebrate Upendo's success :)

"What, then, shall we say in response to this? If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all - how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things?" Romans 8:31-32

Poh-eh.Tree.

Sweet sounds.
RRRRaw rhymes.
Like honey drip-dropping
or razor blades etching,
words ARE.
Healing or destructive.

Today is World Poetry Day, and I adore that this art form has a designated day to celebrate.

I love the freedom that putting ink to paper brings.

Some days it's like setting doves free into the sky, giving voice to positive thoughts flying forth into the world.

Other times, it's letting the black ink mirror the darkest angst of your soul, knowing if you didn't dispel those thoughts, bitterness would wrap its hardened hand around yours.

I found the power of the pen somewhere around age 14. One of my first attempts was a forlorn rhyme-fest adolescently entitled, "We'll always have the stars." (I sort of throw up a little bit reflecting back to my juvenile thoughts.)

Poetry as therapy continued through my growing years. For most of high school I wrote voraciously...never really publishing, but continually penning things that were half poem/half journal entry. I'm sure some of it was good, but mostly I just hung at coffee houses and chain-smoked with fellow writers. How incredibly bohemian of us.

College was, well, a blur, and anything I recorded was mostly about how nothing was coming together and I wasn't understood. I think most of these volumes are at my parent's house, although one chronicle was painfully returned by someone I'd given it to in an effort to make my written soul more understood than he could comprehend in my present actions.

He added his own words at the end. I still can't read them.

Since I've been in KC, I've written ferociously. I'd like to give more focus to the content...make things more cohesive, but my style tends to combine observation, prayer and poetic thought. I've made my peace with it, and enjoy it for what it is. Something necessary for my sanity. Something only I need to be ok with.

So, I'll let the real poets have their stage, and enjoy from my journal's confines :)

For the rest of you aspiring Walt Whitmans or Maya Angelous, take today to celebrate the word. Write something beautiful for yourself.

Or, investigate local events and the world-wide forum.

Here are a few poetic outlets that you might dig:

Upendo (see details above). Two amazing talents, Faith Scott and Bonafyde G, will be reading at my party this Saturday. I'm so jazzed that the journey will be given the verbalization it deserves, and these two poets will do it justice.

KC Poets. This online forum just goes to show that KC has some amazing talent and with all the events, jazz poetry jams, and throw downs, we can seriously compete with big cities. I went to U-Lit’s Wednesday night event at Kabal, and it was hot. Check these things out – don’t be afraid to expose yourselves to new things.

Pablo Neruda. One of my all-time, most-favoritest, mad-super-crazy-awesome poets, Neruda is sensual, connected to nature, and spoke to my heart just as well at 15, as he does at 25. This is one of my favorites.

Jill Scott. I’ve loved her music ever since her first album. Not only can the woman sing, but her lyrics give one pause. Case in point – Love Rain.

Word.

Monday, Monday

...and a few random observations of coolness:

1. The Nelson-Atkins Museum. I heart. I went to there during my Saturday sabbath, and as usual, loved it. I read this amazing description of Georgia O'Keeffe's husband, Alfred Stieglitz, next to O'Keeffe's painting, Apple Blossoms:

"Stieglitz tended to think of himself as a gardener who was cultivating his talented wife to produce the 'fruit' of American art."

2. Revue boutique on 39th St. I bought a vintage sweater and dress, and once again, rejoiced in the fact that there are local vintage stores that do NOT smell like mothballs, and collect cute things. I've been scrimping and saving, and I HAD to splurge. (Women of KC...RUN, don't walk to Revue.)

3. Unexpected blessings. Just when I thought I knew about generosity, my world was rocked. A co-worker's church, United Believer's Church, made a donation to Upendo. I had never attended their service before yesterday morning, and they believed in my mission enough to get behind it and contribute without even knowing me. Wow.

Once there, I received no less than a hundred hugs from church members, and left feeling like I was floating 3 feet above the ground. God's provision is good. Charity is definitely alive in that church.

4. Telepathic, diligent friends. My crew knows how to reach through to me when I feel overwhelmed. Last night's phone calls with offers of help were like water to my soul. I am now ready to take you up on it. Giddyup.

5. The white stuff. I like snow. I'm looking forward to however much of it the sky spits or spews out tonight.

6. Tuneage. Here's what's making its way through my iPod's hit parade. Directions: Download. Insert white earbuds. Enjoy profusely.

- Sufjan Stevens - Greetings from Michigan: The Great Lakes State. This one's an oldie but a goodie. I like his mellow grooves and heavy use of instrumentals. It's good background music, but the lyrics are worth noting. Recommended track: Oh God, Where Are You Now?

- Stars - Set Yourself on Fire. A new purchase for me, this has been out for awhile. They sort of sound like the Postal Service...and rock my face off. Recommended track: The First Five Times

- Neko Case - Fox Confessor Brings the Blood. I love her album Blacklisted, and this is her newest. I haven't given it the appropriate screening to say it's better than my favorite album, but at first listen, it's classic Neko.

- Prince - 3121. Ok, so I'll be purchasing this tomorrow, when it comes out. Come rain, come snow, come pain of death...that CD will be in my hot little paws, and I guarantee it will be AWE.SOME.

Living from your heart

Today I listened to an old sermon of Rob Bell's, entitled "Finding Your Heart and Living From It." As someone who knows very viscerally where her heart is located and how to live by its beating, you'd think this would be second nature, but I know that living from your heart's impulses isn't easy.

Something this deliciously simple got me thinking - living from your heart feels a little like bleeding out all over the place. People rush to stop the blood letting, not because they're worried you'll die, but because they can't bear to see something so red, so alive. It reminds them of the lifeforce that coarses through their own veins...often a long-time forgotten, passion untapped.

The thing is, when blood remains, it must stagnate, thicken, harden. It would make it harder for good, new, healthy things to push through. Surely that feels worse than feeling weak.

My life's progress and blessing is largely due to the fact that I'm innately wired to put everything out there, to live from my heart.

I know it can be a curse, you can be hurt, and people never seem to tire of pointing that out. The thing is, most of these critics are people who have never dared to remove their own bandages, opening their wounds, letting the bad blood leave, and inviting air to rush in and heal the cut correctly.

I have a lot of wounds. Some of them have been well-hidden, and were only recently discovered. No matter how awkward, I refuse to walk out my life with my hands held over the wounds. Instead, I'll embrace what my wise friend Julius recently pointed out - that this season of my life is largely about healing.

I want to be fixed. To be healed of the pain of not living my life right. To be unafraid of the stares of others when I live from my heart, even though it looks strange.

It feels good, refreshing, even natural for me to live this way. With God's courage, I'm not afraid to look stupid, and let it go. All the bandages are off, I'm living from my heart, and wearing my journey on my sleeve, in my blog, and in the shine of my smile

Today's Soundtrack: The Good That Won't Come Out - Rilo Kiley - The Execution of All Things

Slow is fast. Fast is slow.

I read this quote in one of my favorite blogs - Waiterrant. This guy is hilariously right-on, and since my family grew up in restaurants (my Grandpa started the Village Inn franchise in Nebraska and Iowa), I love his take on service and what it takes to brave the hungry masses.

In today's diatribe about a restaurant's challenges, he threw this quote in:

"Slow is fast. Fast is slow."

Apparently this is a military saying designed to help soldiers on the front lines focus.

It makes sense. If 100 bullets are flying at you, it's better to bust out some Matrix-style slowness out and try to dodge them all individually while time stands still.

Oppositely, if only one is flying your way, you'd better be thinking where the other 99 could be coming from, quickly anticipating their approach.

Life is zooming all around me right now.

I'm neck-deep in Upendo planning, getting ready to accomplish a feat I've never even dreamed possible, and my mind is racing with ideas...it's fantastic. The possibilities and small details are numerous, speeding towards me like a train without breaks, and often keeping me from sleeping at night.

A few nights ago, in an attempt to get some shut-eye, I sat down with the informal Upendo planning team - Sarah, Julius, Kelli, and Antony (minus Cass & Elizabeth). What we did while hammering out the details was the equivalent of slowing down the ever-advancing hands of a clock. Delegating details, making sure I've thought of the best way to accomplish something, and most crucially, making sure that God doesn't get lost in the details...time was C.R.A.W.L.I.N.G.

"Fast is slow."

I have rarely experienced the opposite situation where slow is fast, but I think the anxious waiting would be far worse. I really enjoy when life gets slow, since it so rarely happens, and I try to revel in it, not anticipate what else could be happening.

It's probably my personality - energetic, determined, ready to perfect and conquer some new challenge - but I don't remember the last time that I had to really get on the offensive and look for the pending blows that life could dish out. The last year has been entirely speed...racing forward, desperately looking for the breaks, then giving up and enjoying the ride.

I'm hoping after the 25th that life slows down a little. It would be nice to breathe with regularity and repeat...

"Slow is fast. Slow is fast. Slow is fast."

At the very least, it would be a new challenge.

God is good...

all the time.

And all the time,
God is good.

Just a little happy cheer for your Tuesday. Live in those words. Let their simplicity take hold of you. It will make that annoying email inbox smaller, your coworker more bearable, and that drive home just a little closer.

At a Jacob's Well meeting on Sunday, Phil posed a great question, and I promised I would steal it for the blog. I'd love to hear your thoughts on it.

If someone gave you $500 and said you couldn't spend it on yourself, but you had to bless other people with it, what would you do?

I'll post on it after I've thought appropriately, and stolen your best ideas :)

Today's soundtrack: Down Here in Hell (With You), Van Hunt - Album: Van Hunt

Karibu Kenya!

Yesterday was so fruitful. I saw the welcoming spirit of Kenya.

I had my first experience in Kenyan worship at the Global Outreach Center. I am even more excited than ever to go hang with these beautiful people this summer. The band was great, and despite the awkwardness of being the white girl who couldn't dance (in my defense, I CAN dance....quite well, thank you, and apparently Kenyans clap on the off-beat) I loved the way they worship.

It feels like a wave of awesomeness crashing over you.

There were definitely emphatic "hallelujah's" and "praise Jesus" but I was so struck by the utter JOY that permeated through the music. It delighted me to see it the band's jubilant faces, shining like they had personally seen the Lord themselves, stepped down from heaven, and HAD TO sing about it.

These people, these dynamic, rich, thankful, generous people have agreed, without even knowing me, to help make Upendo a great night. Pastor Ben is helping me get the word out to Kenyans, hopefully contributing a vibrant attendance of Africans to shake up the rest of the Americans clapping with the on-beat. A new friend, Lucy, wants to share her gift of dance and she'll be shaking it on the floor on the 25th.

I am overwhelmed by the generosity of people who've heard about the event. They're signing up to attend in droves (thanks in large part to Sarah's additional evite!), people want to participate in the program and food preparation, and I can feel the goodwill of prayer flooding over me.

This celebration of love, life, and Kenya is coming together, and I've got a grocery list in hand. We're making de-lish-ous traditional food, and the people will be well fed, but I hope in addition to the full tummies, everyone will leave a little more filled with love, hope and awareness.

Over the next two weeks, I'm humbly asking all of you to pray for me and this event. Pray that it will be well attended, by both Africans and Americans. Pray that people will have a great time. Pray that there will be enough food and resources for everyone. Pray that it will be successful. But most of all, pray that people leave with a greater understanding of what Kenya is like, and that God would move people's hearts to action...in whatever way he wishes.

Asante sana...(thank you!)

You're never too old to learn

Once again...Toothpaste for Dinner on a Friday.

Fate, coincidence, serendipity....whatever you personally like to call it, I've been blessed with curious circumstances this week.

I happen to believe that these moments are nothing other than Godly. His provision or blessing, His divine coincidence, His determination for me to be somewhere and learn something crucial, even though I wouldn't have done it on my own.

Tuesday night I had all intentions of going to New Community at Heartland Community Church. It's the church's mid-week service, and I love the revitalization it gives me. After a particularly powerful intro to the week, I'd been looking forward to it.

That morning, my boss asked me to take the minutes at our board meeting that night. I wrestled with it. Be a good servant, or follow this desire (and previous committment) to go to Heartland? I politely said I couldn't make it, but any other time, I'd be happy to help. Cue coincidence/distraction #1.

After making dinner for Cass and myself and hot-footing it out the door to make it in time (which means 5 minutes late), I locked myself out of my apartment. I locked myself out from the inside...something that's easy to do with my inner sanctum's security lock. Boo.

So, I call the maintenance office, hang in the parking lot, and Cass and I decide that there is NO way we're making it to church. No way that is, until Curt (Mr. Maintenance) calls me back and asks if he could fix it around 9 p.m. because his daughter is having her final symphony concert that night, and he wants to go. Cue coincidence #2.

Now that I don't have to stay and wait for Mr. Maintenance, I can go to Heartland. They're doing this week-long push for their Hemi(sphere) program, which is their vast organization of mission groups spread all over the world. Two amazing speakers talked about risk and faith, and how they relate to being called to live in other places. Listening to their stories was beautiful. I have so much respect for them.

So, the man who's in charge of their Hemi program talked after that, and here's the jist of why I think I was still supposed to go. It seemed like the whole message was about "mission" work, and doing the mission of evangelizing while in the process.

Not a bad message, and lots of people feel called for this purpose, and whatever works with them is straight...I don't really want to debate their hearts. I think they ultimately end up doing a lot of good for people that need help, and throw in a few paragraphs about Jesus while they're there. Cool for them.

But I'm not super crazy about this approach - I don't think it affects long-term change. It doesn't really change the heart. Maybe it works for two people, or even ten, or even a village, but certainly not a continent. Not this huge world.

The reason I want to go to Africa isn't to throw my bible around. Yes, I'm a Christian. Yes, I LOVE me some Jesus, and I want to sit next to people from all cultures and worship styles at my final eternal banquet.

BUT I don't want to "go on a mission." I want to go and make a difference. I want to make my life a mission.

This journey to Kenya is only one of the missions spinning in my life. I feel like the purpose for this mission isn't to convert, or evangelize, but to LEARN. About their beauty, their culture, their love, their religion or belief or lack of it. I just want to KNOW them, and let them KNOW me. I want to invest in their world.

I just think it's too bad that with all the criss-crossing of the world people can make good progress for the causes of humanity, yet end up trying to leave the world imprinted with our version of Christianity. White, with worship bands and three steps to salvation. There's so much more to learn.

I want to learn and help the people of Kenya. I want to touch people that no one else would come near, let alone remember after they saw a commercial about it. I want to be a part of real social change, and help build real infrastructural support after we leave.

This is why I love working with Sarah & Julius so much. Soulfari Kenya's people are all about being changed while you're in Kenya and they're devoted to bringing that influence back to the United States.

It's definitely not a coincidence that I heard those words on Tuesday night. God has carried this thread on. In my prayer life, conversations and what consumes me, I've been dissecting the real reason we go anywhere to help. Expect to see more about this here in the upcoming weeks, and I'd love to know your thoughts on this too.

Because I know I'm never too old to learn.

Watch

Verb: "to keep vigil as a devotional exercise" or "to be awake during the night"

Right now we're blessed with some crazy awesome weather that's reminiscent of my mind's memories of Florida at night during the summer. A little bit of humidity in the air, a light wind blows and catches my hair's loose pieces, as I walk underneath a hazy sky that's dense with rain aching to fall.

I near Barney Ellis Plaza downtown right at lunch time. My stomach screeches, gurgles, and eagerly anticipates veggies and hummus and a tuna sandwich I lovingly made 4 hours ago. Rob Bell is perfectly preaching in my iPod's earbugs...I'm present, but focused on his words. They seem to mirror the scene unfolding before me.

Rob's in the middle of a series on the "Flames of Heaven," and I'm in the thick of Vol. 2. The basic concept of this series is that if heaven and earth collided today, and we had to exist under heaven's rules, we'd probably need to do some adapting really fast. We can avoid the fiery burn of this transition (probably hotter than hell) if we started practicing good, pure, just things right now while we're on earth. Really light stuff, I know. But I'm eating it up. It's like contemplating the Matrix or something. I love the abstractness.

In the middle of the sermon (and my de-lish sandwich), Rob asks, "would you be comfortable with someone 'different' sitting next to you at the banquet? Someone homeless, someone of a different race or sexual belief...would that be uncomfortable?" Before my mind can even start to process, I see this scene unfolding in front of me.

Barney Ellis Plaza is a safe place to chill for some of downtown's homeless. They mostly pass through and leave people alone, but if you walk the diagonal path across the park, they'll stop you and ask for money.

I saw two businessmen walk by and ignore an elderly man with a crutch when he engaged them in conversation. They weren't rude, they probably didn't want to give him money, and I don't even know if he asked. (As a passive watcher 100 feet away, I guessed that he asked for money.) What awed me was that they didn't even acknowledge his presence. They didn't answer whatever question it was that he asked. I was struck by how non-existent a human being could be.

Then, I saw a beautiful moment.

Not even 40 steps later, he stopped a twenty-something man. And, while I didn't see any money change hands (pockets were effectively patted), they TALKED. For a minute or so they stood, then the young man dug out two cigarettes and gestured for the old man to sit with him. They only talked for a few more minutes, but I was riveted by how beautiful the interaction was. He cared.

As a woman, I'm sort of hesitant to engage complete strangers. But I'm going to keep praying to be that present that I can step in and be a comfort to people at a moment's notice. Whether at Starbucks, Barney Ellis Plaza, our workplace, or our own homes, there is a desperate need for someone to sit and engage the loneliest of our brethren.

People are routinely ignored. Some people choose it, but I'd say it's our fault if someone can go an entire day without a personal interaction. Not just a transaction, like handing over a cup of coffee, but a interaction, where I ask a question, sit down for a moment or offer a small creature comfort, like a cigarette.

I would have missed this any other day. Maybe it was the beautiful weather that slowed me down, but I've been praying for slowness a lot. I've been seeking solitude, and beautiful moments like this keep popping up. I'm thankful for the lesson I learned from a twenty-something man. Today, he redeemed humanity a little bit...right before my watchful, slowed down eyes.

The Light

I'm letting slip a little secret. If someone ever tells me they feel like this about me, I'd marry them on the spot. But there's a catch - they'd have to mean it.

"I never knew a l-l- a love like this,
gotta be somethin' for me to write this,
Queen, I ain't seen you in a minute
wrote this letter and finally decide to send it."

"I wanna be the one to make you happiest, it hurts you the most.
They say the end is near, it's important that we close..
...to the most high
Regardless of what happens
on him let's rely."

"There are times when you need someone
I will be by your side
there is a light that shines
special for you and me."

"If heaven had a height you would be that tall."

"Granted we've known each other for some time,
it don't take a whole day to recognize sunshine."

"My heart's dictionary defines you as love and happiness."

"The Light" Common - Album: Like Water for Chocolate

a prosapia institutio

A little Latin seemed appropriate. Translation: A family's tradition

As a child, I learned about faith, religion, devoutness and who God was from the Catholic church. I was baptised, reconciled and confirmed into their ancient, mystical, tradition-drenched beliefs.

I learned from the best. My Grandpa Donaldson was a good Irish Catholic...and he was damn proud of it. He went to mass every day in his last years, gave EXTRAVAGANTLY to the church and others, and that man knew the Lord.

Robert Donaldson was the kind of man who you KNEW was praying for you when he told you so in casually passing. He kept a small journal with prayer requests and went through it diligently. He believed in prayer and its power. The beauty and bounty of his life confirmed that he got what he prayed for...or that he knew the things what to pray about and didn't bother with the rest.

When he died in 2001, I remember vividly the people who's lives he'd touched being devastated...mine included. His impact on our lives was like a tattoo that we wore around. The funeral was packed, and it was one of the saddest days of my life. When you lose someone who loves God so much, its like the divine leaves your presence. It's a sad ache that touches through to your soul. I loved him deeply, and his calm, constant faith held our family together. Sometimes it feels like the threads have been fraying a little bit ever since.

Even before he died, I struggled with my own differences with the Catholic church. Dogma aside, I've simply realized that most elements of Catholic worship and spiritual nurturing weren't letting me grow as a Christian. So, for the last few years I've attended mostly non-denominational community churches like Heartland and Jacob's Well.

Even though I spend the better part of my public worship with the Lord in non-Catholic churches, I still miss the Catholic respect for tradition and a deep, abiding faith that is generally worked out in mass prayer and routine.

One of my favorite things about attending Jacob's Well is that the lead pastor, Tim Keel, really tries to merge aspects of mysticism and worship from different faith traditions. We celebrate communion every week and he begins with the retelling of the last supper - two things central to the Catholic mass. I feel like I'm at home. (If only we'd say the apostles creed...) This style of routine satisfies my need for tradition, and I feel secure, more connected with my family.

During Lent, I usually try to make it back to Mass to celebrate the beauty of this time of the year, and repent in a way that makes me feel like I've purged my guilt and left my sin at the altar, able to walk thorough the church's entrance washed clean.

Tonight I'll be celebrating my first Ash Wednesday outside of the Catholic church, at Jacob's Well. I'm excited to see what insight Tim will offer, and which pieces of the Catholic Mass he'll pick up. I respect his desire to merge these traditions, and I think I'll feel comforted.

I think my Grandpa would be proud. He always loved Lent (as a good Catholic would) and as I receive my ashes tonight and try to let God make his way into my heart even more, I hope to feel him smiling down on me.