Creator God

"Lift your eyes and look to the heavens:
Who created all these?
He who brings out the starry host one by one,
and calls them each by name.
Because of his great power and mighty strength,
not one of them is missing."
- Isaiah 40:26

I saw the most beautiful cloud-filled sight in the heavens above me on my way to work this morning. I wish I would have had a camera or nowhere to go. I would have driven toward its siren song until it disappeared.

The sky to the southeast was a wall of white cottonball clouds stacked one upon the other until heaven pushed back. I don't think I could see any blue above the white. It stunned me so much that I turned off my radio to get appropriately silent. I was on holy ground...or more appropriately, below it.

The scene got me thinking about how God formed the things of this world so creatively.

Clouds are little more than air that puffs up and dissapates with lightning fast speed and races across the sky. Quite simply, they are vapor.

Then there are humans - vapors in our own fleeting lifespan. We only seem more permanent because our legs are more sturdy than cloud fibers.

What a creative God I have :)

So, I want to bookmark my day with seeing God's creativity manifested. I'm going to close out the day honoring His creative spirit, so I'm going home to cook, paint and love the creative fibers he knitted together in my body so uniquely. I'm going to revel in his brushstrokes on my personality's canvas.

sehemu ya pili

the second part in Kiswahili

Cell phones, Blackberrys, CNN Headline News, Visa...we are brought up in a world that is INSTANT. What's the LATEST news? The LATEST CD? I want things now, now, now. My mind spins as it searches out things to consume. I can always figure out a way to pay for something now or pay for it later.

When I decided to go to Kenya, I realized that God doesn't work on our timetable. From November until May, I was constantly saving my money and being fed generously through other people's financial belief in me, yet I didn't see how this trip would happen. I didn't believe it would be possible to raise enough money to go, but God kept telling me it would happen. I think more accurately, I didn't believe it would happen because I didn't have $3,500 in my hand when I decided to go.

How incredibly faithless of me.

However, the coolest part about my God not being an IMMEDIATE God is that He designed faithlessness to lead to...

prayer which leads to faith. When you want something desperately, for a long time, you can't just pray 2 or 3 times about it. I've never even been that great at praying, but I learned how to pray consistently for something, and it's becoming a habit.

vulnerability which leads to faith. Not only did I have to admit that was afraid, I had to ask for help - financially, spiritually, and emotionally. My friends saw the rawest Ally there is, and they didn't run. The fact that they saw the true me and loved it shows their true friendship and God's faithful and loving hand.

perspective which leads to faith. I had to choose to change my life for this trip. Since it didn't happen overnight, I had to fight some lengthy battles with people who are concerned for my safety, and I had to articulate why I was reordering my life to see Kenya. Why would I, a spoiled, privileged and hardly challenged white girl make a choice to walk into discomfort? When I saw little bits of truth about the world, I couldn't turn back. That new perspective wasn't the comfortable world I knew but it's made me a part of God's plan, and infused my life with faith.

I'll revisit more of my journal entries soon, but the second part of my thanksgiving for this journey to Kenya is that I'm glad that God isn't on my timetable.

The lessons I've learned, obstacles I've overcome and gifts I've been blessed with made this the first gratification of my life that I'm happy was delayed.

One of my favorite passages is Jeremiah 29: 10-14. I read the Message translation and I love it.

"This is God's Word on the subject:
'As soon as Babylon's seventy years are up and not a day before,
I'll show up and take care of you as I promised and bring you back home.
I know what I'm doing.
I have it all planned out—
plans to take care of you,
not abandon you,
plans to give you the future you hope for.

When you call on me, when you come and pray to me, I'll listen.
When you come looking for me, you'll find me.
Yes, when you get serious about finding me
and want it more than anything else,
I'll make sure you won't be disappointed."

I'm thankful that I don't know what's best for me. My plans are quickly diverted, quickly underappreciated. When I think I do have a plan, I royally mess it up, but God knows how to make things fit together.

So this last year and the woman I've become shows that God is right, he does have a more perfect plan and timing than I understand.

And also, that Frederick Douglass was right - without struggle, there is no progress.

In God's Time

As I started writing this, I realized how insanely long this entry was. I’ll post this in a few installments over the next few days. Part one is below. -a

I’m not even going to make you all wait for the end. I’ve never been good at keeping things hidden.

I’m going to Kenya. It’s official.

Can we all just say it together? Ally. IS. GOING. TO. KENYA!!!!!!!!!!!

The final funds are all in my savings account and it’s all I can do to keep from weeping ecstatically or dancing a freaking jig down the street.

To say that I’m grateful for everyone’s help would be an understatement. This Herculean effort to help me fulfill a mission has been the effort of a village of friends, family and strangers and one amazingly talented Lord. I’m so overwhelmed with gratitude that I wish I could make up new words to convey the depths of my emotion.

So I will. I’m superespecridcutasticlyhappy. (I have no idea how to pronounce that.)

I want to thank you all by showing you the last 8 months through my pen’s ink. These are little stepping-stones of thought, timing and gratitude from my journals.

10.28.05 - “A smooth sea never made a skilled mariner.” English proverb
Looking back, this was just slightly indicative of what would be to come.

11.30.05 – His guidance is my breath, my validation, my heart’s band-aid forever. That truth rests so solidly in my heart. I don’t even question it.
I wrote this in a journal about a lot of other stuff while I sat on our sun porch watching the snowfall while I was at home. I’ve just heard from E that Sarah & Julius are leading a trip to Kenya. I’ve been thinking about going ever since E went last summer. I even mentioned it in my job interview at the Lyric. I mention it in passing to my Mom. She’s less than pleased.

12.4.05 – Today I was going to sit on my couch, but with one question from Julius and steadfast encouragement from E Sue, you set this burning in my heart. In my stubbornness, do not let my mind eat away at my resolve, but instead fill me with strength and courage of purpose.
This was the day I went to church and decided after a fundraising brainstorm, and a certain feeling in my heart, that I was going to Kenya.

12.13.05 - As I prayed, I pictured Christ knocking on my door and coming in for tea, like a friend. I came face to face with him. I feel validated, loved, on the right path. He told me that going to Africa was good and I needed to trust him and stop worrying.
At this point, my prayer life was really visual, and I had this feeling of absolute certainty from God that I was going. I remember this like it was yesterday. It was like absolute peace.

12.16.05 – “If he wants something to be done, He will give us the means.” “When you know how much God is in love with you, then you can only live your life radiating that love.” Mother Teresa
I later revisited these verses I had captured while reading over lunch one day. On 3.27.06 I added above them. “The success of the Upendo party.”

12.19.05 – Emmanuel – God is with us.
I’d never heard the meaning of this word until one sermon at Jacob’s Well. As I headed home for Christmas (and to a struggle with my family about this decision) this word circled through my head.

12.22.05 – I’m finally getting that you’ll make this happen. You are beautiful, you are beautiful, you are beautiful to me. Today was a wonderfully beautiful supercalafragalistic wonderous-tastic day. Thank you for believing in me.
In a Christmas card from Cassandra, I received my first donation for Kenya, an inspirational quote and a photograph of Kibera, a slum in Nairobi. I have never felt so good before. I knew that God would take care of this. I was supposed to go.

12.31.05 - “No one whose hope is in you will ever be put to shame.” Psalm 25:3
No one has ever loved me, like the way you’ve loved me, Oh Lord, wrap your arms around me. – Waterdeep
I remember making coffee and laying on my couch this morning, listening to Waterdeep, an amazing band. This lyric and verse caught my attention, and show where my head was at. I am so in love with God in this moment, and trust him implicitly.

1.5.06 - “The spirit intercedes with groans that can’t express when we’re without knowing what to pray for…based on Romans 8:26.
I’m listening to a Rob Bell sermon called “Praying with an Ache.” I’m beat up. This road seems way too long, and I have no idea how to trust that God will help me save or raise almost $4,000. This won’t happen, and I don’t even know how to pray for it.

1.10.06 - “A wise son brings joy to his father, but a foolish son grief to his mother. Ill gotten treasures are of no value, but righteousness delivers from death.” Proverbs 10:1-2
My parents are so concerned and don’t want me to go. To say that my Mom and I are fighting is an understatement. She’s brokenhearted and angry and hurt and I’m wondering if I’m doing the right thing. Am I just being stubborn in wanting to go and help in Africa? Am I just going to prove that I can? I ask God to show me the truth, and if it is his will, I won't go on.

*Somewhere around here I tell some new friends from The Bohemians that I’m going to Kenya…they’re incredibly supportive and love the idea of a party.

1.16.06 - My 25th birthday. How incredible. I feel so lucky. So incredibly blessed…My gift to the Lord as I reap the joy of this day is my life as a sacrifice. I want my desire and will to so closely align with yours that there can be no separating the two.
This birthday is hands down the best ever. All my friends are supportive and lots of people donate or spend time supporting me emotionally here. Wow. I can’t believe so many people believe in me.

1.17.06 - Thank you for big miracles. When I let you in to be God, you never disappoint. I open the door again. Come in – do something amazing.
The day after my birthday, I went to Loose Park and made a list of the things I was grateful for. It was 65 degrees outside and I had Jimmy Johns in hand. I think I saw what heaven will be like that day. This little gem of a thought was #22. I had a lot of stuff going really, really, really well.

That’s enough of a journey for tonight. I’m pulling this tour bus over, parking by the side of a dirt road and taking a nap. As I doze off, I realize that if I’ve ever been certain about God’s providence and timeliness, it’s watching this process unfold as dig through time’s remnants.

More revelation to be continued tomorrow…

Phobia

I return to this page tentatively and afraid.

The WAY I process is not something new. I expect that it's obvious that words have always been my ally. I cram the margins of my journal with superfluous syntax. I rejoice in a verse's cutting effectiveness when chronicling Jill Scott's heartbreak. I revel in a friend's shared understanding that creates a special language like twins might have, the absence of words saying just as much as their presence.

However, the danger of laying my words out nakedly on these pages is that my inner-most thoughts, values, struggles and longings become open to other people's scrutiny, and they might be too fat, skinny, ugly or freckled for you, you, and you.

There isn't an easy way to confront that fear.

I'd expect it's sort of like being afraid of heights. The only way to conquer it is to climb up the freaking mountain already, and gingerly place your feet at the lip of the cliff. Then, hold on to the closest tree limb, desperately, until

you

just

don't

feel

scared

any

more.

Most of the time people don't even comment here, so I might only have one reader that I'm afraid of. But whether you are person one or one million, friend or foe, I claim today that the most important opinion in my life is first and foremost God's.

So, even if it sounds like a whisper and not a shout, today I scream as I step to edge of this wordy cliff. I desperately cling to the stable, secure tree of God's filling love, screaming my lungs out until the fear is gone, and the blessing of the view is all that's left.

As I stare over the uncertain horizon, miles above the ground, I know I could fall, but I am comforted. A thought rushes at me. I know that He loves me and is well-pleased with his daughter.

A daughter who is working out her deepest fears in front of an anonymous set of eyes.

A daughter who is not perfect and struggles and hopes that her sin is honest and transparent and her life is not a study in hypocrisy.

A daughter who processes best with words and is using them in an effort to share her journey with others who might need a friend.

A daughter who blogs because she loves the blessings He pours out and is bursting with joy to tell this world that needs some happiness.

A daughter that just. won't. be. afraid. any. more.

"I'd do anything to get your attention"

Lately I've been way too intense.

I know, I know, "Shock me shock me shock me..."

So, yesterday I took the day off, and God did lots of stuff that got my attention. Just in case you thought he's just around in prayers, hymns and self-denial, he's postively everywhere.

You're welcome to be a voyeur to my yesterday if you don't believe me.

8:20 a.m. I wake up from a lovely dream, and lie in bed. The first thought of the day flits across my cortex. I'm so blessed. Swimming in loveliness, I stretch out my well-rested limbs and revel in how extra-soft my sheets feel. I love that my Mom bought me super nice sheets in college.

8:26 a.m. Commence creating my favorite breakfast - Whole Wheat Eggo waffles with gobs of natural peanut butter, strawberries dripping with crimson juice, and two cups of Sumatra, decadently black and perfectly rich.

8:45 - 10:45 a.m. Journaling and a 2-hour marathon reading session of Brian McLaren's book - The Story We Find Ourselves In. I haven't read like this in a long time. Time gets lost for awhile.

12:30 - 1:30 p.m. I pack up a lunch and head to a park to enjoy the beautiful sun. I keep reading my book and I've decided to wear my straw cowboy hat to block the sun. It feels like I'm 10 and decided to wear a ballerina outfit around for the day. Do you think people would think I look strange if I wore this to work? I can't believe how good I feel in this hat. It must be magic.

My thoughts come like machine-gun fire. They're not anxious and busy like usual, but instead, intensely present and they are taking in every stimulus around me. God is everywhere! I don't think I've been this overwhelmed by his majesty in awhile. I'm there for about 30 minutes before I even realize I haven't plugged in my iPod. I'm getting used to silence.

1:45 p.m. I pick up a Chocolate Fudge ice cream cone at Baskin-Robbins. It's dripping everywhere and I. Don't. Care. I'm still wearing my hat.

2:00 p.m. I go to see Akeelah & the Bee by myself. This is one of my most favoritest things in the world to do - I love to see movies by myself. This movie is brilliant. I'm pissed that I didn't bring my journal in to the theatre. There are so many great words that I could be encorporating into my vocabulary. Ahh...at least I'll have a reason to see it again.

3:50 p.m. Driving home in stop-and-go traffic on 435, I start crying as I listen to Coldplay's Yellow. I'm so perfectly happy, and I feel like God's singing to me directly, "Look at the stars, look how they shine for you, and all the things you do..." All my windows are down, my cowboy hat is on, and I'm weeping.

And that is how God shows Ally Moore that he loves her. :)

Yesterday's soundtrack:
Anything (To Get Your Attention) - Van Hunt Album: Van Hunt

A clean heart

I've found myself praying a lot for a clean, pure heart (Psalm 51:10). It's something I can't buy, earn or deserve, but instead something that I have to trust that God will do through time and practice.

I just feel like at this point in my life, it's time to get real about all the junk in my heart. Every second evil thoughts swirl, desires are perverted, and I craft new ways to keep on doing things my way. None of it is working or life-giving, and I know it must make God so sad.

(Maybe this is a sign that I've grown tremendously, but I can't think of anything I hate more than making God sad. It makes me literally weepy.)

So, in the interest of cultivating a cleaner heart, I, in bold, declare my ugliest sin: I was born a naturally talented liar. What I mean is that some people have the storytelling gift.

As a kid I would exaggerate (even then understanding my limits) always knowing just the precise moment to stop at before I'd get caught. When I was a teenager and later in college, deception wasn't for notoriety's sake, but to avoid disappointing someone. At some point it mixed to satisfy the nastiest of my personal sins - pride. I got older, and the fear of approval and perfection led me away from accountability.

I wish I could say that I made a concerted effort to stop lying, but once I really started walking out my life with God's input factored in, I simply COULDN'T lie any longer.

Sure, I could still be deceitful, but tell an out and out lie? Impossible. Even white lies got hard. I searched for creative answers to "Does this outfit make me look fat?"

Umm.."I think we can do better." Note: honesty does not have to be brutal.

But recently I saw the biggest realization that my heart is being transformed into one that is like-minded with Christ's.

I messed up at work. Somewhere in the line of communication, I dropped the ball, discovered it on my own, and I wanted to hide it. I was afraid that my boss would be disappointed, mad, and ultimately fire me. You know, a totally rational thought process.

The thing is, this wasn't a crisis about me telling a lie - it was a fight to keep myself from going to that point. A fight to be accountable and tell the truth before my boss could realize it - casting light on my mistake. I wouldn't have been lying, but it sure as hell felt like it.

Coincidentally (or not) I listened to a Rob Bell sermon on Saturday about the Ninth Commandment - "Thou shalt not bear false witness" commonly known as "Do not lie." In typical Rob Bell fashion, he blew my mind.

He focused primarily on Genesis 1, and the differences between the light of the sun, moon and stars (created in verse 14) with the reality of light itself (which preceds their creation in verse 3). So, where did light come from before the items that spread its glow were created? It would seem to suggest that light comes from God's very presence.

So according to this idea that God's very existence is light, and truth exists when you shed light on something, my hiding in the darkness of deceit isn't just harmful to me, but a heartfelt rejection of everything God is...everything I've tried to become.

Huge.

So with this thought, not telling the truth wasn't even about covering my butt or preserving someone's feelings, but about walking in God's true reality, and acknowledging that I was taking accountability for him.

So I confessed my error. The result is infinitesimally smaller than the mountain-sized volcano I made it in my head. It wasn't even a big deal. As I walked back to my desk, thanking God for his provision, I couldn't help but feel like God's probably chuckling about how I stressed about it. But I prayed before and afterward, and I feel like my obedience was delivered.

More than anything, it's just good to know that I bucked up for God. I did it because I wanted to align my life with his - not to get anything out of it or be more blessed.

And that is how I know that he's scrubbing this heart clean.

this psalmist says...

I want to abide
with words.

Positively revel
in their inadequacy,
cortex searching for some
marriage of syllables that will do the way that I feel
justice.

There is an inner longing to see my soul pulled out,
interpreted,
studied,
scrutinized by some cosmic mapmaker
some compassionate surgeon,
lovingly
knitting together the torn pieces of my heart
with this life's splinters of insecurity
filling this vessel full of love
its tiny membranes ready to burst...

his smile beaming (like the sun he created)
he looks over my Raggedy Ann body,
jagged scars and perfectly hidden stitches a masterpiece at his hands
and he says,
"It is good."

I channel David,
vein in my ancient bloodline,
brother of the pen,
how you must have felt these urges
to be known
and examined
and understood too.
For they are evident in your raw, jagged verses,
an incessant howling at the moon
like the rabid wolf that you were
when you thought God had turned away.

Millennia later,
the essence of our primal need to be stitched up
has not become faint in the bluescreen glow of our text message world.
I Sharpie these lines of love
onto my modern day papyrus,
permanence etched on the blank page
with the same frenetic pace that my life unfolds inside my head.

A modern-day woman
desperately pens these psalms
in the Year of the Dog,
with the aid of two beers,
yesteryears tears bubbling up to the surface of this soul's geyser,
erupting into a cry to my God,
mirroring Psalm 143:6,
knowing full well the answer is worth the wait.

Silence

The Wednesday morning sky is overcast. The gray horizon bleeds down, casting a murky pigment onto the grass. Everything is forlorn - even the birds languidly perched in the trees mirror this melancholy morning.

Precariously balancing a bagel halfway inside my mouth, I shift my coffee to my left hand, fumbling in this cavernous black bag for my ever-elusive keys. Aha! Success!

I'm looking forward to a new iPod playlist to help me through the dreary commute. This morning melancholy must be balanced with appropriate music. Emo-rock is out, I think as I spin the wheel, brain searching for something sunny, yet not overbearing when my mood is so delicate.

Ah....Anthony Hamilton. (Smooth R&B always rights a stormy disposition, without beating you over the head with it.) I press play.

Wait. It should be playing. Wait. Why aren't you playing? My mind races.

Not my iPod. Seriously, anything but that. Like a lab monkey, I'm pressing every button on the iPod. It should be working fine.

I staredown my car radio - and nothing is lit up. No radio. No tape. No CD. No power light. Nothing.

Cue the storm cloud over my car.

I'm not comfortable with unrequested silences. I'm pretty sure God knows that, and I'm almost positive that he's behind this little inconvenience of my radio dying.

I adore music, and barely walk around the block without my earbuds in. The thing is, I realize in its absence that I use it to calm myself down throughout the day. I guess God would rather have me tuned in to his melodies.

So, the last three days, I've done everything to create noise in the car. I've gotten on my cell phone during peak hours. I roll down a window to hear the noises of the world. My brain rushes with a flood of thoughts to fill the space. But before I get wherever I'm going, I get really pissed off, and end up talking to God.

The result - these drivetime prayers are yielding some of the most revelatory and real expressions of my faith. I feel more connected than I do in my off time.

I'm looking forward to car rides now. Uncomfortable as they are, they allow me to give praise and my soul stirs. I get perspective and my days are brightened.

I haven't been trusting God nearly enough lately, and I've been filling my free time with noisy crap instead of Him. So, He took my music away in a place where I'd have to be captive.

Sneaky, sneaky, God.

"Be still, and know that I am God;
I will be exalted among the nations,
I will be exalted in the earth."

The LORD Almighty is with us;
the God of Jacob is our fortress.

Selah

Psalm 46:10-11

The woman I'd like to be

is...

kind
wise
vast
simple
hopeful
selfless
content
radiant
creative
thankful
gracious
prayerful
visionary
reflective
energized
comforting
empathetic
wholly present
fixated on knowing God
enraptured with beauty
intimately known by God
someone you can dive into

"You know me inside and out,
you know every bone in my body;
You know exactly how I was made, bit by bit,
how I was sculpted from nothing into something.

Like an open book, you watched me grow from conception to birth;
all the stages of my life were spread out before you,
The days of my life all prepared
before I'd even lived one day."

Psalm 139: 15-16 (The Message)

Ninatoka Iowa

*In kiswahili that means "I come from Iowa"

I read a great article on Relevant yesterday about someone from the Northwest, and it got me thinking - I'm really proud to be a Midwesterner.

Some background for those of you that haven't been following along:

I was born in Lincoln Nebraska, lived there until just before kindergarten when we moved to Des Moines, Iowa. I'm still a hardcore Cornhusker fan, go to a few games each season, and my Grandma Donaldson still lives in Husker-ville.

I grew up in Des Moines (NOT the middle of a corn-field, but an actual-factual city with about 400,000 people) and went to Valley High School in West Des Moines. Great school, but really rich, white and not terribly diverse. I had a blast, and didn't realize what I was missing until I got the heck outta dodge.

After I went off to college in Cedar Falls, Iowa at the University of Northern Iowa, my parents moved to the great white north, and now live in Minneapolis...but will be relocating shortly to Iowa City, Iowa, home of the craptastic Iowa Hawkeyes. (I will cry when I go to visit, but am thankful that they're not in the Big 12.)

You know the rest. I ended up in Kansas City which is partially Midwestern, but definitely more southern than the way I was raised, and I miss certain Iowa traditions.

In the divine words of Olympia Dukakis, "I was brought up right."

1. I love corn on the cob, and one of my first home kitchen purchases were little corn on the cob skewers (The man that invented them was a freaking genius). Some of the best memories with my Dad are as a child, sitting on our front porch steps, husking corn before dinner. We always went outside, paper sack in hand, and he'd teach me how to clean of every bit of silk off the ear.

2. Hanging at the pool during the summer is a simply fantastic thing. After a few mediocre years of swim team, I realized that wasn't for me, but laying out and eating frozen snickers bars...now that's some great sh*t. On the real.

3. I decided to go to UNI when on my campus tour, EVERY person I passed said "hi" to me. This is not atypical. For instance, Iowans wave while driving (most common on two-lane roads). On my routine treks between Des Moines and Cedar Falls, most drivers would make eye contact, lift their pointer finger off the steering wheel and nod. It's a beautiful, beautiful thing.

4. I'm an avid proponent of local food and organic farming. I especially discovered these in Cedar Falls where the campus was surrounded by so many farms. Although we didn't have many markets, there was a great Mexican restaurant in Waterloo that served almost exclusively local food, and noted the percentage of each product at the tables. When farms are being collected by big conglomerates, the impact of just one restaurant supporting the economy is huge. I'm happy to see this trend continue around Kansas City at places like Blue Bird Bistro and Local Burger in Lawrence.

5. The scenery in the Midwest is exquisite. There's nothing more beautiful than an Iowa afternoon in July where the corn fields are emerald green and the breeze blows across the top, rippling the plants like an ocean wave.

Oppositely, I miss snow. There's precious little of it down here, and sledding is the deal. Good, appropriately overcrowded sledding on a golf course was our favorite pastime during a snow day in Des Moines. The governor even got in on it one year and got hit by a kid when they intersected at the bottom of a hill. How badass is that?

6. I love bike rides, and I'm not sure if that's to my father's credit or following RAGBRAI's annual trek. We used bike rides to "go exploring," one of our favorite pastimes. We'd get onto a bike path and go through new subdivisions, walking through houses and plotting which room would've been ours. It was simple and fun.

7. The 4th of July. Fireworks weren't as readily available as they are in Missouri, but the cities always had great displays. We'd haul lawn chairs and blankets and get eaten up by mosquitoes underneath the pyrotechnic display in the sky. I also have a special affinity for this holiday as I seem to recall kissing a boyfriend under the fireworks display...a majestic thing, indeed.

"And that's why I, Ally Moore, am proud to be an Iowan."

So, if any of my homies from back in the day are actually reading this, shout out some love in the comments. I wish I was sitting on the patio with you guys tonight, maybe somewhere like Jimmy's or Drink, kicking back, checking out the drink specials, and recognizing how the best part of an Iowa year is yet to come.

little gifts

I'm amazed by how beautiful life becomes when you pause to be grateful more frequently throughout your day.

There's something humbling about it. It makes you small - takes you out of your self, your impending needs and wants.

I've spent most of my adult life seeking out really "wow" situations. I get fed by them, invigorated, inspired and ultimately, find faith in their majesty. But now, it's really cool to feel the constancy of little moments strung together in their absence. It's giving me a peace that is admittedly, unfamiliar.

I feel like I'm experiencing a whole different type of God. Contentment must tend to do that to a person.

This morning, I was schlepping boxes of programs over to the front of our theatre. When I stepped in our stairwell, a scent crashed into me. The humidity outside had infiltrated our building, and the aroma was particularly salty. For a second, I closed my eyes...and was back on the beach with my family in Panama City Beach, Florida. Eyes closed, I could almost feel the warmth of the sun licking my skin.

I sighed and smiled.

It was the most intensely intimate, perfect little gift from God. It was like he was saying, "Hey, Ally. Remember all those cool times with your family? I did that, and I wanted to make you happy at 10:15 a.m. in Kansas City while you were at work. You're welcome. Happy Wednesday."

These moments are adding up. I have at least a few every day, and I'm holding their secret beauty captive in the sharpie ink of my journal. Just keeping a few things between myself and God - another new thing I'm trying out.

freeze frame

*Photo by Courtney Jeter


I love photographs with the same passion that I love words. As a passionate person, there's something comfortable in the stagnance of a moment or emotion captured - frozen in time to analyze, scrutinize and ultimately, understand.

Lately, I've been thinking a lot about slowing things down. Freezing them - sitting and reveling in a moment for all the "nowness" that it is. I used to call it "being present," and while it's definitely that, I've discovered that it's more about appreciating the exact perfection of the place in time I occupy.

Last night I had about a half-hour to kill (or in my new language, "revel in") before the opera, so I jetted to Coffee Girls, one of my most favoritest coffee places on the Boulevard...and in KC. Enjoying a lovely passion-fruit iced tea (a newly discovered indulgence), I stumbled upon a copy of Kahlil Gibran's The Prophet (complete text here).

Gibran is a Lebanese poet who my Father introduced to me to in high school. In giving me this book, he gave me a wisdom that slows down time. Gibran's words are so simply profound that you could chew on them for hours and they would not lose their taste.

In The Prophet, a man is ready to depart from his homeland, and holds such a burning in his heart that it bursts forth and literally calls people from the city, sea and fields. As the crowds ask him questions, he elaborates on the mysterious passions and whims of life and the realities we constantly struggle with.

Since I've read and re-read his thoughts, I dove right into the good stuff. (I love when I'm familiar with a work and without care, can flip the pages until it feels right - starting 3/4 of the way in.)

(From "On Self-Knowledge")
For self is a sea boundless and measureless.
Say not, "I have found the truth," but rather, "I have found a truth."
Say not, "I have found the path of the soul." Say rather, "I have met the soul walking upon my path."
For the soul walks upon all paths.
The soul walks not upon a line, neither does it grow like a reed.
The soul unfolds itself, like a lotus of countless petals.

I melted. What a lovely thought. On this beautiful spring night, staring out at the majestic wonder of urban Kansas City, I was unfolding.

I think so much about growing and walking, but not about the unfolding or foot in front of foot processes. I like to be ahead of time, thinking about the completely open flower, or the end of the race. The victory achieved.

"I am the true vine and my father is the gardener. He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit he trims clean so that it will be even more fruitful." John 15:1-2

God and Gibran...a team of co-conspirators were encouraging me to notice each step. To freeze frame the flower of my soul as it is...

(click) bathed in rainwater
(click) awash in sunlight
(click) pushing a centimeter taller
(click) burning with a deeper fuchsia than yesterday
(click) tentatively separating
(click) all petals pushed apart at the top
(click) closing slightly when a storm approaches, guarding it's innermost preciousness
(click) opening again as the thunder stops
(click) bursting forth
(click) releasing intoxicating fragrance
(click) exploding in full bloom

I'm not done looking yet

"i search your profile
for a translation
i study the conversation
like a map
'cause i know there is strength
in the differences between us
and i know there is comfort
where we overlap."

"Overlap" Ani Difranco - from the album Out of Range