hooray for junk!!!

Pardon my shameless lack of thinking for myself tonight, but when I came across this on Nichole Nordeman's website, I just had to copy it here. It so simply and yet so eloquently sums up everything that I feel about my writing and all the many moods it encompasses... thank you, Brad O'Donnel!

"Christians are somehow prone to talking more about where they've been instead of where they are. Very few people want to speak up while they are in process.... They'd rather wait until their junk is resolved, so they can give a "testimony" about the happy ending. As it relates to your writing, please don't feel the need to tie it up with a bow at the end."

This has been very true in my life -- feeling the need to present some vibrant before-and-after testimony. Many of you know how long I felt my testimony was incredibly dull and boring. So what if I've been a Christian my entire life? So what if I grew up as a goody-goody in the eyes of the world, never turning my back on God and even saving myself for marriage? That certainly doesn't mean my life is perfect! I have many struggles (a lot of which are finding their way into blah-blah-blog land!), but maybe that's the point... to not wait to share our lives and our experiences with others. After all, life is a journey, not a destination.

So here's to all the junk waiting to be resolved!

random quirks of happiness

The snow piled on my mailbox looks like dryer lint.

I got two straws with my drink from McDonald's yesterday, without having to ask.

The sunrise this morning was purple.

I tried a new flavor of oil with my pesto sauce, and it worked.

There are no more little round Band-aids in my house.

Of all the empty seats in the movie theater, I picked the one with 25 cents under it.

My nieces love to read.

My flannel sheets just came out of the dryer.

(Hmm... the snow on my mailbox even feels like dryer lint.)

Dr Pepper -- the perfect drink, and the perfect shade of lip gloss.

Jesus loves me!

is loneliness a sin?

I've heard various answers to this question over the years... and sadly, most of them seem to say, "Yes, it's a sin to feel lonely." And even sadder still are the extremists who say that, because I feel lonely, I must not be a "true" or "real" Christian, because if I were then I'd know that I'm never alone because I have Christ within me.

Of course, being a Christian for 27 of my 30 years on this earth, I am fully aware of that! There has never been a time in my life when I did not know that God loved me and had a plan for my life (pardon the Campus Crusade flashback). The thing is, as I contemplated in a previous blog about Adam and Eve, "it is not good for man to be alone."

So where does loneliness fit into our Christian lives? Personally, I do not believe it is a sin -- after all, wasn't Jesus lonely and longing for companionship in Gethsemane? (I can certainly relate to His letdown of finding His companions asleep!) And as Jesus was completely without sin, there must be some other reason for loneliness. Draw us closer to God? Undoubtedly. There is no person on earth that can fill that God-shaped hole. But I'm inclined to think we have another hole within us... certainly not as large as the void of a God-less life, but just as real and valid.

"It's not good for man to be alone." Okay then, we know it's not good. But the fact is, several of us (myself included) are alone. Some people are called to live a single life, which I think is amazing -- I sometimes wish I were one of them. But I know what my calling is, and waiting for its fulfillment often seems extremely unfair. Yet wait I must. Clearly there's some purpose for going through this period of loneliness. Perhaps it's simply to reiterate the point that, however much I may long for love and companionship on this earth, my ultimate love is my Savior and Redeemer. Or perhaps there's something more....

I haven't really fleshed this all out. Any thoughts?

before my adam awakes

God knew it wasn't good for man to be alone. So Adam went through all the creatures on earth to find his perfect mate. No doubt Adam was struggling with loneliness -- the first imperfection of Eden. He tried all kinds of things, and even noticed a few beautiful or enticing creatures on his search... "the horse is so enchanting"... "the eagle is so magnificent".... But nothing was good enough. Being an impetuous and somewhat stubborn man, though, Adam kept trying on his own for a long time, until he finally gave up in frustration and asked God for some direction. And God's directions weren't difficult. "Close your eyes. I've got a surprise for you," He said. And so Adam fell asleep.

Then came Eve.

God had the giggles as He crafted this work of art. "Wait till Adam gets a load of this!" He thought. He took His time, no question. He had to get her just right. No mere speaking her into existence... she could only be hand-crafted with all the love in the universe, because she would have no other purpose in life but to be with Adam. She came from him, was fashioned from a piece that God took from him so that no one else could make him complete again. And when He was finished with her, Eve opened her eyes....

Eve's first moments with her Father were gentle and exciting. And then He revealed to her His plan. "I've made you for one special purpose," God said. "You're going to be with Adam." It didn't matter to her that she had no clue who this Adam guy was... she knew nothing but her Lord and Maker, so she just trusted Him that this was a good plan, and agreed to go along with it. God took her by the hand, and with a smile and a wink said, "Are you ready for this?"

As they walked, many imitators crossed Eve's path. A rhino, a giraffe, a hippo, a gorilla, a frog.... She wondered aloud about each one, "Is that the Adam You told me about?" But God just smiled and said, "Wait, you'll see."

And then she saw.

Adam was unlike anyone or anything she could have ever imagined. He was like her! He took her breath away, even while still asleep. And for the briefest of moments, her pulse raced and her palms grew sweaty. What would he say when he awoke? She looked to her Maker for confirmation, and He just smiled and nodded, and nudged Adam on the shoulder.

Now Adam was not a morning person. No one would claim he was the sharpest tool in the shed when first aroused from a deep slumber. He was groggy, and his back was a little sore because God had not made pillowtop mattresses yet (those came just before the seventh day of rest). He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, glanced up.. and saw the rhino. "God, this isn't funny," he yawned. "You know I haven't had my coffee yet." He couldn't understand the proud-papa smirk on God's face, and it took him a minute to register the glances and eyebrow twitches He was making over his shoulder. Then it sank in that the surprise was behind him, so Adam turned around...

And the words had not yet been formed to describe all that Adam felt when he saw her. In her eyes, Eden was perfect once again.

Eve knew Adam before Adam knew Eve... that has to be my consolation while I linger in this limbo. I'm surrounded by elephants and kangaroos and alligators, but I only have eyes for my Adam. I know God is leading me slowly toward him, and sometimes I imagine that those are his toes I'm glimpsing curled up in the warm grass just ahead... but I know that my Adam is not awake yet. He still sleeps, somewhere, and yet my pulse begins to race and my palms are getting clammy. How long before God nudges him, before he opens his eyes and turns around? Will he be as speechless as I will be?

"mother doesn't like me playing beethoven"

It's probably the most overplayed piece of piano music in the world... and yet it gets me every time. A moonlit like tonight was made for Beethoven. I cherish the sad little antique instrument in my living room, wishing I could afford to have it tuned... but the sagging pitch seems to add to the music somehow. One touch of the ivories and I'm a little girl again, dreaming of reaching that moon, of romantic walks in its afterglow, of silent reveries under the most amazing not-quite-black skies....

The moon has always been my friend. Beethoven has always been my friend. But I play it tonight and I can barely breathe for all the hope and longing and despair it stirs up in me... I try to escape but it follows me everywhere. It's too bright. There's nowhere I can hide.

blame it on louis l'amour

So I finished re-reading Conagher last night (or should I say early this morning), and I hold the ending of that book directly responsible for the existence of this blog...

The widow Evie has spent the entire book tying small letters to the tumbleweeds and letting them loose. When finally confronted about it, she responds, "I was lonely. I had to talk... to write to somebody, and there was no one."

The answer she received to that confession is the exact same answer I long for someday...