It's my Friday and I'll do what I want to.

Tonight was the best night.

I walked up to the Whole Foods and grabbed some chicken pesto pizza, then went over to make my own six-pack at the liquor store by my house. How cool is that? I get to try all the newest fall beers AND walk home with them. Consequently, if anyone has not tried the Pumpkin Ale from Buffalo Bill's Brewery, that stuff is good.

Anyhow, after I chilled out for awhile, I ended up finishing my series for the Jacobs Well art exhibit. This is the first time I've worked on something in conscious sequence, trying to interpret a sermon and mix it with my artwork, and it's yielded surprisingly beautiful fruit.

So far I've done a piece that represents earth, another on fire and tonight I wrapped up air. All are on wood that I had cut down at Home Depot (a GREAT story for another post), and each is about 13X17. Because of time constraints with the opera starting, I doubt I'll get to work on water before I have to hang these three on Saturday.

I realize the descriptions mean nothing without seeing the art itself, but here's the jist:

Earth: I used photos, poetry and artifacts from my past to construct a diagonal timeline starting in the bottom right hand corner and reaching up to the upper left hand side. It's pretty much chronological, and each trinket has to do with a pivotal moment where I either became more grounded or ran away from it. I used red strings to connect certain sections and look like the art was being pulled up by some sort of puppetmaster. That was a nod to the "follow the string" title of the blog and the concept I explain in my header. It's green, purple and shades of red and the paint soaked into the wood, so it looks fuzzy - like soil does after it's settled for a while.

Fire: Again, photos and miscellaneous collage, only this time they're layered over each other to look like a fire. The background is magenta, orange and yellow and most everything in the piece centers on moments of purification. I added pages of my writing from old journals and musings and was amazed to see how I've survived some pretty bad forest fires. I went back in later and added black glitter flecks to segments at the top - mirroring the way that a silversmith would melt silver then pull off the impurities that skim the surface.

Air: I formed two focal points at the bottom - one is a woman wrapped in photos and images and the other is Ba, also wrapped in images. I wanted to show how two different people could be engulfed in a multitude of things, yet stretching out through their conjoined breath is something they've created together. At the very top (where their breath merges) is the header of the Daily Nation (Kenya's national paper) fused with the Kansas City Star. It's blue, white and green.

So, if any of you are in KC, please stop by Jacobs Well on the 13th of October (between 6-9 p.m.) for the opening, or any day until the end of November to see all of our work. In all, I think there are 25 of us contributing.

Oh, and since the beer thing worked so well in the comments section the other day, maybe I'd even treat the first person there to a beverage of choice...

Today's soundtrack: Starálfur- Sigur Rós - Ágætis Byrjun

Asante sana, Jesus (totally sick of spelling in swahili)

Why Jesus rocks my face off (reasons 16-20):

16. Rituals.
I love traditions, and I especially love them when they happen naturally and not by someone's annoying insitence (I'm talking to you, Valentine's Day). Kelli, Cass and I have started having dinner at rotating apartments once a week and the break during the work week is so refreshing. I'm blessed to have women to break bread with. And to take 5 minutes to "let all the bad stuff out."

17. Leaves.
I'm cruising in to work yesterday and I see this beautiful tree alongside I-35 that was calling to me like a lone harbinger of fall. It's BLAZING red. I hadn't even noticed that the trees are also echoing my sentiments about fall's delight.

18. Fig Trees.
I've never laid eyes upon one, but yesterday during a prayer session at church over the lunch hour, this proverb struck me: "He who tends a fig tree will eat its fruit, and he who looks after his master will be honored." (Prov. 27:18) Let's just say it helped me go back to work with a little more grace for my co-workers.

19. Getting off the soapbox.
So, I officially have a position on the board of Soulfari Kenya, and I'm going to my first meeting this Sunday a.m. I'm so excited that they still want to include me, and that my vision has some practical application. We're going to do some great stuff, and I'll get to stop talking about all the ways we can change the world and do it.

20. Hats.
Again, the fall weather rocks. I pulled out the old newsboy cap yesterday, and I think it's quite fetching. One of my co-workers made me do a little model pose. I look pissed or indifferent or something, but still....oorah for hats.

I'm totally late

to the RSS party, but if someone would be so kind as to let me know if I did this freaking thing right in my sidebar, I'd appreciate it. I even tried to subscribe through MyYahoo, and while it'll "work," it doesn't show my blog's name or link to it.

Me good with wordz...not tech. You help me out, I'll buy you a beer. I'm sick of messing with it.

Asante sana, Jesus (kumi na moja through kumi na tano)

Why Jesus rocks my face off (reasons 11-15):

11. Sweet Surprises.
I opened up my mailbox yesterday to a beautiful little postcard from one Miss Elizabeth Sue Young. You made me smile…and miss you…and, um oorah and whatnot.

12. His Everywhereness.
It’s pretty sweet that God always listens. I mean, I pray in the car, on a walk, in bed and on the blog. It’s awesome that we don’t have to be in a church to talk to him.

13. Rockstar Brothers.
I stopped by my bro’s new restaurant gig yesterday and it’s awesome. I’m so proud of him. He’s still in school and is working a ton, yet every time I see him in a restaurant, I’m struck by how easily he belongs there. I hope he gets to open his own one day, and I especially hope it makes it. Restaurants are tough, but they’re in our blood.

14. Rediscovered Favorites.
I made an excellent mix a few years ago and lost it on my old iPod. I’d recreated it and found it again last night while I was winding down. It’s called 2:38 and it’s excellent for late nights and reminiscing. I fell asleep during Hiding Behind the Moon by Jeff Hanson and slept like a baby. Everything old is new again.

15. Window Weather.
I have a distinct thankfulness each day for the weather. What can I say, I’m captivated. Yesterday I rocked the drive home from work with the windows down and a little Honky Tonk Woman by the Rolling Stones. That song is not just awesome and funky, but it makes you feel pretty darn hot as you roll around town.

Today's soundtrack: Suntoucher – Groove Armada – Goodbye Country(Hello Nightclub)

The haves and have nots

We are creatures cursed by insatiable desires. We want and want and want and are rarely satisfied. (A mere half hour walk through the mall this weekend had me feeling like I’m not good enough, pretty enough or “with it” enough to show my face in public.)

As a culture, our clichés reflect it – grass greener in other pastures. As a people who seek God, our proverbs warn about it - the fool chasing fantasies and lacking judgment (Prov 12:11).

We can easily spot and number the obvious ways and things we covet. But money, prestige and power are not the only things we yearn for. Smaller things can be just as consuming, preoccupying our minds and slowly stealing our joy. In fact, I’m inclined to believe they’re more dangerous because they’re like a small and quickly spreading crack in the foundation of our being. They provide an excellent foothold for self-destruction and loathing because they’re less obvious. They are the chorus of the “I should be’s:”

Stronger. With a more satisfying job. With just “a little” extra money. With someone. Doing something bigger. Thinner. Reading more. Watching TV less. Trying harder. Smarter. With more friends. Out doing something. Helping someone who needs it.

I thought about my own inner monologue over the weekend, and I was praying last night, I sort of got smacked upside the head by God. It was, in fact, the equivalent of a loving backhand…if that’s possible.

He let me know that when we are consumed by the lack of something in our lives (even something ultimately good) it’s as if we’re telling God that He doesn’t know anything.

Think of it. It’s like saying, “you don’t know how to be God and I do.”

Right now I’m sitting at a computer in the library, my best friend behind me, and this is exactly where God desires me to be at this moment. Not doing extra work to catch up. Not working on my latest art piece. Not sitting on my couch watching last week’s episode of Grey’s Anatomy.

Just here.

There are a myriad of things that I desire for myself that are bigger and more exciting than this, but if I had it my way, I’d be missing out on this sacred, holy moment that God put in front of me.

I know that we don’t think of healthy wishes and desires this way, but I think it must make God pretty sad to hear us always complaining about something we DON’T have, when there’s so much that we DO.

It’d be like spending a week on one of my paintings, giving it to someone who holds my heart, then having them tell me it shouldn’t be red. It would have been better if it was blue. It’d crush me. I’m glad God has a more resilient and forgiving heart, because I’ve laughed and given the finger to His creation a lot.

He has made me a place in this world. He has given me this life in Kansas City with my job at the opera and the money that I make. He has given me this body and mind and creativity and portioned it out. He has blessed me with these specific friends – far and away. He has ordained this time in my life as one of growth and reflection…by myself.

It's no small coincidence that before praying last night I’d read this passage:

Theologically and judicially I know that every believer has everything as soon as he is converted, but experimentally nothing is his until by faith he claims it. 'Every place the sole of your foot shall tread upon, that have I given unto you.' - Hannah Whitall Smith

Just brilliant. We must, in faith, claim all that currently EXISTS in our worlds - not the things it LACKS. God has blessed and purposed all that surrounds us for His glory. When we focus on that, the worries and what-if’s sort of evaporate. We don’t have to “try” to find things to be grateful for. They are plentiful because our lives are led by God.

Recognizing this truth means we have to let go more. This was something easy to do when I first became a Christian, but every year it becomes a little harder as I gradually become more stubborn, and feel entitled to God’s blessings.

But this is easy to shake off when I’m struck by the way that I love the people in my life. I want them to be happy, overflowing with such blessing that they pour out that joy into everyone around them. If as a mere human, fallible and selfish, I can want something so pure for my family and friends, then surely the God that I love and trust must want something much, much greater for each of us. Something freeing. Something that recognizes every bit of blessing and providence in our lives as the manifestation of Him loving us completely and fully.

“Which of you, if his son asks for bread, will give him a stone? Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a snake? If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him!” Matthew 7:9-11

Our lives are filled with bread and stones, fish and snakes.

We must choose to realize what God has given us: bread and fish. These things will feed our souls and leave us satisfied with the world.

Asante sana, Jesus (sita through kumi)

Why Jesus rocks my face off (reasons 6-10):

6. For spectacularly simple advice.
I'm reading Hannah Whitall Smith's The Christian's Secret of a Happy Life (an admittedly horrible title), but it's slowing me down and giving me great perspective. She was a quaker author that mastered the art of being grateful. I'm going post some thoughts on it this week.

7. For strength.
This whole running thing is sort of fun. I went to the gym yesterday and ran for 20 consecutive minutes. I am sore, but my body is capable of things I didn't know were possible. It always feels good to push my limits.

8. For widsom and leisure.
Over lunch yesterday I walked around downtown KC and listened to Rob Bell's brilliant new series - Jesus Wants to Save Christians. Download it. From what I've heard so far, I'm intrigued. Vintage Rob.

9. For promises realized.
The chance to work with these kids at church is the deliverance of a discussion God and I had about how to incorporate Kenyan beauty to KC. That's pretty damn cool.

10. For the cycles of nature.
This weather is popping back and forth between summer and fall (today it's supposed to be in the 80's, Thursday in the 60's). I wore boots for the first time the other day and it got me all excited for fall's slow decline into hibernation. I'm looking forward to sitting around a fire, sipping something warm and opining about the majesty of God revealed in the subtly adult wisdom of fall. (I've always felt like fall was the grownup season.) I think the Were's back porch and Shawnee Mission Park would be excellent backdrops. Call me if you wish to play.

Today's soundtrack: Summer's Gone - Aberfeldy - Young Forever

Asante sana, Jesus (moja through tano)

Yesterday night I reached a summit. I’m not quite sure how or why, but for the first time since returning from Kenya, I feel like myself again.

Whenever my spirit is nicely settled, it seems to give birth to a fountain of gratitude. So, in the thread of posts of olden times, I’m going to spend the next week reveling in thanks. It’s been too long since I’ve publicly declared how superawesomebeautifullovingstellarsparklinghealingredeemingkindgentle
forgivingamorouspowerfulcomfortinganddelightful God is, especially in specific ways in my life.

When I consciously make this effort, I always reflect on the beautiful majesty of God’s blessing at the end of the day (because you never know what’s gonna happen before you go to bed), so entry one is from last night.

Why Jesus rocks my face off (reasons 1-5)
*In no order of importance.

1. My relationship with my Mom is so solid right now. This makes me ecstatic.
2. For the first time in my life, my church feels like it's home. I’m teaching the art workshop for children’s church in October, and I’m presenting some of my artwork at their Elemental Faith exhibit. It doesn’t feel forced, and this place is beautiful.
3. In my prayer life and through recent practical application, God’s teaching me what REAL faith, patience and loving-kindness look like. He has confidence in my ability to learn.
4. I went to Kenya. I did it. I just want to say that again. I freaking went to Kenya. It happened. Wow. It still blows my mind.
5. I’m learning how to handle myself like an adult who possesses grace. I’m pretty damn proud of that.

Today's soundtrack: A New Law - Derek Webb - Mockingbird

Think Long

Tonight I find myself in a state most unfamiliar to me. I’d usually be well into a REM cycle, but it’s already Friday morning, and after tossing and turning, this whole sleep thing just isn’t working out.

This week has been messy. It’s been hard to shut my brain off at the end of the night. That’s what kept me up tonight - a mind that seems to be preoccupied with what to make of the future.

The future seems so gray, mutable and easy to get consumed in mulling over. As I lay in bed, my body tensed up as my mind traversed the hidden landscapes of what was to come in the next few days, months, years. This fogginess, coupled with the curiosity of a mind left to wander the night, and I was left with a distinct loneliness.

That’s what finally got me out of bed. I’m not going to toss and turn over it. So it seemed like this was an appropriate time to write.

I haven’t talked much here about what it’s like to feel lonely, mostly because I hash it out with people that are seriously invested in my life, and let’s be real…these are intensely personal things and some of you don’t know me very well.

But I realized that if loneliness is what’s been keeping me up at night, I assume that there are a few of you out there feeling the same thing too. So maybe it’d be ok if someone gave voice to the chorus.

I wish I could write a Christian song that had the following refrain:

“It’s really hard to know that you’re working so hard on yourself and trusting in God, but He seems to have a really weird sense of humor, and it hasn’t worked out and now you’re tossing and turning alone. Woo-woo-woo.”

It’d be a lot more real than most of the crap they sing about. But I digress…

This ache…well, it’s not for lack of trying. (Even if my Mom seems to think so.)

My past has initiatives that were nobly attempted, went awry and were later put aside. I’m fully capable of recognizing that God’s protected me pretty well against some big mistakes, and held my heart after it got trampled on for a while.

Clarity aside, I can very distinctly feel this all coming to a head. I mean, something’s gotta give. We all have moments of reckoning. Moments where we’re met with the intense reality of our singleness, and as cool as it is to go check out the Nelson with a best girlfriend (and it was a great Saturday, Cass), I can’t help but yearn for the moment when I’ll get to do the things I love with someone I deserve.

In my prayer time lately, God and I have been chatting a lot about faith, and what true faith looks like. I know that for me, especially with regards to wanting a true partner in my life, it’s about endurance. There’s no quick fix.

The New Testament talks a lot about marathons, and I think faith is a lot like that.

I have no experience running. Still, this last Monday I had the strangest urge and decided it’s something I want to try out. It’d be a tremendous victory for me to run an entire 5K without stopping, and I sort of want to do it.

I went in to the Y and talked with a trainer a little bit, inquiring about a sample program that could teach me how to run. (Yes, I did feel ridiculous for asking that question. The obvious answer seems to “just run.”) He surprised me. He didn’t start to counsel me about how to start running in 2 minute segments, gradually decreasing my walking time until it went away all together. Instead, he looked at the strength of my legs and back and prescribed some weightlifting and stretches to build them up before I began.

He told me that as I got stronger, running for an extended amount of time would require less output. Basically, it’d be easier.

It isn’t until sitting here tonight, mulling over my own success in the marathon my brain is trying to run, that his strategy makes perfect sense.

I’ve been trying to run the distance without recognizing my own weakness and building up some strength first. I’ve just been waiting in faith, sprinting the trail, knowing God will deliver something great, but I guess building up my mind's strength would help it require less exertion.

So that’s what God’s been doing. Making me a whole hell of a lot stronger.

These legs aren’t quite tired yet. I guess they’ve still got a few more miles left in them.

And that’s enough to tire me to sleep.

Ba: my little (yet mighty) challenge

I remember the moment I walked into the courtyard at Missionaries of Charity and first saw this little dude.



At the time, he was running toward me like an out of control animal, his arms flailing as he made these crazy, guttural noises, looking like I’d be perfect thing to hit or drool upon. Having no prior experience with special needs children, my heart shot up into my throat and I immediately went into fight-or-flight mode, hands held stiffly away from my body to ward off his swinging little arms.

(Upon further reflection, I am fully confident that Ba could totally have taken me.)

Another traveler out on the playground had worked with a boy that was autistic before and he gave me a few verbal tips while I was trying not to freak out.

“He’s a hitter, so be careful.” Umm…check. The stiff-arm technique was working well.

“Make sure he doesn’t hit his head on the merry-go-round. He likes to push and he gets a little close.” Ok. I can do that…even though this little boy has the strength of an adult and is practically superglued to spot on the ground he likes.

After ten minutes or so of intense playtime, it was time to go. As the van pulled away I relaxed every muscle that had been on guard. The tension flooded out and exhaustion seeped in. I’d been trying intensely to watch out for myself, for Ba, and to disregard the smell of the drool he’d left on my hand. Gross.

I felt completely uncomfortable and every ounce of my being never wanted to set foot in the special needs room again. I even contemplated asking Julius and Sarah if I could just stay at the orphanage in Dandora tomorrow.

That night was busy with reflection (and the breakdown I mentioned in last week's post), so I didn't have time to talk with them.

When we returned on Wednesday, I avoided the special needs room at first. I was unsure that I was capable of a repeat performance. Still, after reading with Grace and dancing with the ladies, I was exhausted and decided to tread back into their room.

I saw Ba across the playground, and without any hesitation, he ran up to me again.

He didn’t remember my discomfort. He recognized me as a friend and clamped on to my wrist, dragging me over to play on the swings with him.

We spent the next week together, and by the end of it, we were good buds. My discomfort was minimized (although still present) and I loved to see him smile. On the last day he followed me all over the playground, trying to steal my balloons.




Remembering back, I’m so proud that I overcame this discomfort. I wasn’t afraid to be loving with children that were different, I just had no prior knowledge of how to do it.

If I hadn’t jumped in to work out my discomfort I would have missed out on this precious time and two precious little habits of his that I loved:

The victory cheer: He’d sit on the ground, pick up a clump of dirt, hold it up to his mouth, reach out his little paw for you to take said grass, then he’d clap his hands together emphatically and giggle. Rip grass, attempt to eat, hold out, clap, repeat. The game could go on for an hour if you’d let it.

The namesake: Obviously his name wasn’t Ba, but the other women and volunteers had named him that after his repetitious behavior. He’d hold his hand up to his ear or face (like he was pretending to be a motorboat), while saying excitedly, “bbbbbaaaaa!” “bbbbbbbbaah!”

Sitting here in America today, I wonder what the next test to my discomfort will be. I pray I’ll confront it head on. Otherwise, I might miss out on some joy that is as pure as this little boy.

Today’s Soundtrack: Fight Test – Flaming Lips – Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots

Identity...continued

This prayer reminds me of why I do the things I do…even though they seem capricious and ludicrous to others. I’m choosing to walk through fire. I've asked to be disturbed. Sometimes, you get what you pray for.

Disturb Us, O Lord
when we are too well pleased with ourselves
when our dreams have come true because we have dreamed too little
when we arrived safely because we sailed too close to the shore

Disturb Us, O Lord
when with the abundance of things we possess
we have lost our thirst for the Waters of Life;
having fallen in love with life, we have ceased to dream of eternity.
And in our efforts to build a new earth,
we have allowed our vision of the new heaven to dim.

Disturb Us, O Lord - to dare more boldly
to venture on wider seas where storms will show your mastery
where losing sight of land, we shall find the stars.
We ask you push back the horizon of our hopes, and to push us into the future with strength, courage, hope and love."

There’s a woman on the other side of this that I’m pretty excited to meet.

Today's Soundtrack: Burning - The Whitest Boy Alive - Dreams

It just isn’t God’s fault.

This week, like everyone who has a computer or TV, I’ve been swimming in the deluge of political punditry, slinging accusations back and forth in recognition of the five-year anniversary of 9/11.

I think some of it make good (albeit heavy-handed) arguments, like Keith Olbermann’s 9 minute rant on Monday’s Countdown. Some of it continues to repeat blatant lies – things the President himself refuted during his Monday night war rally speech.

But I’m not really concerned anymore about who was right and who was wrong and how we got there. I’m beyond that.

I’m just sorrowful down to the depths of my soul.

I’m so sad about the state this world and its affairs. I’m grieved by our arrogance. When I reflect back on 9/11, I still can’t believe that it happened. I can’t believe that someone’s hate would drive them to murder innocent civilians in the first place…let alone in the name of God.

I’m also angered that our government allowed itself to sink into the horror of that day, and instead became increasingly hardheaded towards reasonable discourse.

Instead, it is five years later, and we have made such little progress. There is still no memorial in New York and we are still tied up in a quagmire in Iraq. Shirin Ebadi, the Nobel Peace Prize winner from Iran had this to say: (she) also faulted the United States for using democracy and human rights concerns as a pretext for war in Afghanistan and Iraq, saying, "Democracy cannot be spread through a cluster of bombs." (Read the whole thing here.)

The physical disgust that I feel today reminds me of my second night in Nairobi. I had just gotten back to the guest house and had to make sense of the atrocities I’d seen that day.

I’d held children with AIDS. I’d seen a government that extorts its own people and won’t allow aid to get to those who need it. I’d seen a dump spread out towards the horizon and rise 15 feet into the air. It was in the middle of a neighborhood just behind a newly built orphanage. We almost retched as we walked through the school.

I paced behind the guest house, shaking like an insane woman, weeping so hard that I thought I’d throw up. I stared up at the black sky, hoping to see God peering back down through the heavens at me. I screamed. I cursed. I grieved. In that moment I realized why people ask this question:

Where is God?

I came to the same conclusion that night in July that I reach today.

God has not abandoned us. It is us who have abandoned each other.

We are human beings. We are capable of despicable acts, horrendous atrocities and unadulterated evil. But we are also capable of producing peace, live-giving love and cultivating harmony.

We are capable of feeding the hungry. If we would share our abundance and accurately look at what we need, we could solve this problem.

We are capable of ending wars. If we would seek diplomacy, shed our ego and work towards a compromise…not a no-lose scenario.

We are capable of honoring innocent victims. If we would rightly honor their legacy, remembering them, seeking peace, and holding our government accountable.

Jesus told us to love our enemies and bless those who curse us. (Luke 6:27) He told us the true nature of peace – that those who practice it are the sons of God. He told us that those who mourn will be comforted. (Matthew 6:3-11)

We are the ones who have forgotten the tools at our disposal. These commands and instructions are the valuable things that could create the peace that he promised when he delivered us from the wages of sin.

These are the ways we disappoint and he still shows up.

He is not gone. It is time that we learned to practice his example.

Love both neighbor and enemy. Pray for both Christian and Muslim. Work it out in our communities and watch hope spread.

Maybe then our government might listen.

Finding yourself in the fog

A few weeks ago I wrote about struggling to write since my return from Kenya. Although the struggle has abated in my journal and during my private reflections, during an incredibly honest moment on Saturday I realized that my lack of articulation isn’t entirely about Kenya.

Over coffee at Broadway Café on Saturday morning, Cass asked me 4 well-timed and beautiful questions:

1. What kind of woman do you want to be?
2. What type of woman do people perceive you to be?
3. Who do you think you’re “supposed” to be?
4. What good things from the past woman you’ve been do you want to hold on to?

These questions are incredibly personal, tough to ask, internal and individual. They’re things that my time in Kenya didn’t allow me to focus on because I spent two weeks living in community, then I returned to a life in Kansas City that had moved on without me.

It hit me. I’ve felt like I’ve been losing my identity.

I’m pretty sure that the disaffected nature of recent days is due to the fact that I need to be at the end of the process. I’m not comfortable in the gray, but these are not questions with easy answers…or any at all.

Still, through words of truth uttered by a friend, a few well-timed books, desperate and sincere prayers and abundant life experience, I know that our journey with God isn’t linear like the overused Christian cliché “walk” would imply. It twists, turns, bellies back to look at something again and sits in one place for awhile.

Sometimes the path is too foggy to go on any further. We must acknowledge that fact and wait. It doesn’t mean that we’ve packed up and headed off the trail, but we’re human. Our vision limits what we can see.

But there’s hope that we can grasp tightly. There are moments in our lives where God has given sight, we need only to pause and remember it. There are moments in scripture too.

“As Jesus left the house, he was followed by two blind men crying out, "Mercy, Son of David! Mercy on us!" When Jesus got home, the blind men went in with him. Jesus said to them, "Do you really believe I can do this?" They said, "Why, yes, Master!"

He touched their eyes and said, "Become what you believe." It happened. They saw.”

Matthew 9: 27-30 (The Message)

Will we cry out when we need sight? Will we really believe he can do it?

Today's Soundtrack: Earthquake Weather - Beck - Guero

Aural drippings

Thanks to this music lover and this site, I’ve had some great new stuff spinning on the iPod this weekend.

Most of what I picked up was live and acoustic and paired nicely with the still, relaxing weekend I had. A few gems:

Neil Young’s Harvest Moon as sung by Pearl Jam.
Admittedly, I'm late to the Pearl Jam party. They're growing on me, but I still prefer their slower acoustic stuff. They touch brilliance when they team up with Neil.

Be Be Your Love - Rachel Yamagata.
I'm also late to find her. (I had other stuff to get to, I guess.) It's hard to believe that someone this beautiful could ache so badly. I love this song because it's so simple. We've all been in this place - watching from afar, wishing time would speed up and push us together with someone.

The Headlock – Imogen Heap.
Sort of like Bjork, this vocalist from Frou Frou intrigues me. I don't know that I’m totally sold on her individually, but I'm willing to sit with it for awhile.

Arms of a Woman – Amos Lee.
“A thousand miles from the place I was born, but when she wakes me she takes me back home…” This song beautifully merges the freedom of being completely safe with the sacred femininity of a woman’s soothing embrace.

Hold You in My Arms – Ray LaMontagne.
“When you kissed my lips with my mouth so full of questions, it's my worried mind that you quiet…” What can I say? I’m a words girl. I can’t get enough of this guy and his raspy steadfastness. It makes me wonder what he’d be like in person.

Paperweight – Joshua Radin and Schuyler Fisk.
The perfectly fluctuating harmonies in this song sound like the humming sound rain makes when it changes intensity on your roof.

True Love Waits – Radiohead.
Radiohead is especially great acoustic, and there’s just no band that offers up a better soundtrack for your sadness.

Harbortown – Josh Ritter.
This track is reminiscent of a beautifully simple 70’s folk song. People easily compare him to Nick Drake, but I think he sounds like Cat Stephens here.

I’m going after a few things pretty hard right now (more details to come) and music shall soothe the savage beast while I wrestle with them and create.

Anything you’ve heard lately that gives birth to inspired output?

Tryin' to dance

There's a scene in the hilarious movie Blind Date, where Bruce Willis starts shooting at John Larroquette's feet and telling him to dance.

I feel a lot like John Larroquette.

This week and next are flinging things at me that I can barely handle at work. It's flying by at such a dizzying pace that I want to find the nearest cave and hibernate for a few weeks. I seem to have forgotten that the ramp-up to our season opener is like this.

So, a few caveats for a little while:

1. I'm not ignoring you if I don't call or email back.
2. My Kenyan resolution to "show people that I cherish them" has now morphed to "try to remember things about your friends...like that they exist."
3. The phrase, "Never allow yourself to complain about anything," is taped over my computer. I promise that I AM trying to implement its method.
4. Random gifts are accepted.

Thankfully yours,
Stressy McStresserson

A labor of love

The best thing about family is how easily it fits. Sure, they're aggravating when you've been away for a while, but they seem to slip on easily, like a pair of slippers you've kept at home since you were in high school (mine are blue and fuzzy).

My weekend sojourn to Minneapolis has lasted a day longer than I'd planned on, thanks to a failing oil pump and a red warning light that made me believe my Passat would blow up before it'd get me back to KC. I'm sure that it will be ridiculously expensive, but for now, it's bought me the best day with my parents.

While there was a lot of frustration and anger today, there were redeeming moments:

- I woke up and came upstairs to a beautiful moment - my Dad was sitting in our sunroom, reading the paper and listening to Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young. The sun was shining and we ate bananas and sipped orange juice while sharing the paper and an ottoman.
- While we ate lunch, my Mom and I got sort of heated over some of her brother/sister family drama. She got teary-eyed and I realized how much I love her delicate, caring, easily wounded heart. She's such a great woman and it was the epidome of how much we value family...broken as we might be right now.
- My Mom and I watched Law & Order for 3 HOURS today. She pretended to cross-stitch and I pretended to read my NT Wright book. It's like crack.
- Dad and I went on a walk in the beautimous Minneapolis humidity. Thankfully, we did not run across the state bird (the mosquito) and we had the best talk about happiness. It was holy, and reminiscent of the post I did earlier this week. I love it when God ties up the strings.
- College Football has begun. Thank you, 8 1/2 pound baby Jesus. Nebraska won this weekend, and right now, I'm watching the Miami/Florida State Game with a glass of Syrah. I've almost forgotten that tomorrow's going to be a rough day.

Moments like these are rare. I'm lucky to see my parents almost every other month, but when I was out of the country, I realized that I'm not in the majority. Most people my age have parents that are divorced, too far away, or may have already passed away. But I have this great family - neurotic, fiercely committed and crazily confrontational...but definitely loving.

Life is good.

"a walking tour of one's own headache"

In an attempt to properly celebrate the end of one beautimous summer, I'll be roadtripping up to Minneapolis to see the folks today.

Free food, wine with my Dad, and MOST IMPORTANTLY, skyrides and hot dogs at the Minnesota State Fair. Hooray for Labor Day weekend.

For some company on the long drive, I just had to create a new playlist. Enjoy yourselves on this nice little break.

Almost Fall
Nicotine - Ani DiFranco - Reprieve
Sad, But Endearingly So - Say Hi to Your Mom - Impeccable Blahs
One Place - Everything But The Girl - Acoustic
Looks Good (But You Looked Away) - The Helio Sequence - Love And Distance
Burn One Down - Ben Harper - Fight for Your Mind
Fire Eye'd Boy - Broken Social Scene - Broken Social Scene
A Message - Coldplay - X&Y
Two Step - Dave Matthews & Tim Reynolds - Live At Luther College
So Here We Are - Bloc Party - Silent Alarm
Neighborhood #2 (Laika) - The Arcade Fire - Funeral
Love Song - Death Cab for Cutie - Good Music for UNICEF Tsunami Relief Fund
Put You to Sleep - Dolorean - Violence In the Snowy Fields
Honey and the Moon - Joseph Arthur - Redemption's Son
Magic in the Air - Badly Drawn Boy - The Hour of Bewilderbeast
Burning - The Whitest Boy Alive - Dreams
One Of These Things First - Nick Drake - Bryter Layter

*Update: I was directed towards a brilliant piece Slate magazine did. Yup. That's pretty much going to be my Saturday.