This weekend...

I

went here with Julie.

I

refurbished my desk.

I

can hardly

believe that

I

FINISHED a project.

New knobs.

New paint.

And a new top.

Very musical.

Not perfect, but just right for me.

It reminds me of this...

And the best part was on

SUNDAY

I drove to a local park, plugged in my ear buds and jammed out to

Mumford and Sons

while SWINGING my heart out. For the oddest reason this brought immense

Peace.

Contentment.

I was sure of my place and identity, there was no doubting the hand of God

cupped around my life.

And then my pants ripped.

Life is so comical.

A weekend with friends.

Tonight I was disappointed. Selfishly.

I was graciously awarded both a Silver and Bronze for excellent video pieces. But

what

is

it

about second place that let's us down?

I am absolutely afraid of the

"B"

team.

I want to be praised for my talent and creativity.

I prepared speeches of acceptance and had the walk down.

Oh

sweet humility.

What an honor to be recognized. To remember that my tiny talents are simple offerings. Because ultimately I will never be the whole, the 'it'. I am a tiny piece of a community, a component of the whole.

Praise be to the giver of

t

a

l

e

n

t.

Turkey Day 5K....The Video

The Art Show

Sing Winter | Jonathan & Melissa Helser

If ever there was a worship song...

I love the UNIQUE descriptions and praises. Here is just that.

Dear generic Christian music,

step away from the word "awesome" and put down the capo. Throw out the endless strumming and pick a little. Put aside culture catch phrases about us making a difference, quick mimicking Katy Perry and the Black Eyed Peas...and just worship.

Sleeves.

Today I was

G

R

U

M

P

Y. My boss made a very strong suggestion that I visit the Abilene Jail tonight for Pioneers jail ministry. I didn't understand what kind of business I was getting into and was sure I had no potential to influence criminals in orange jump suits with orange crocs. And of course, because of a volunteer shortage I was told to go onto the Male side. YIKES.

B

U

T

G

U

E

S

S

What?

As all ministry goes, they rocked me.

a BUNCH

of

old men

young men

bearded men

baby faced

tatted all over

strong jawed

weak kneed

people who were looking for just a little something.

Jesus? maybe.

Relationship, freedom, love, grace, community, belonging, an escape? Absolutely.

So hear is the beauty, they did not know it, but Jesus is

A

L

L

of this and more. Papa scoops up every goodness and light we are scrambling for and dumps it on our heads. I looked into the faces of those hard men as I stumbled through old hymns. I saw my fear melt in a tidy puddle on the floor and dry up. Nothing but sons of God, Boet, Papa.

Oh how he loves them.

Oh how he loves me.

Heaven meets earth with

a Sloppy

wet

kiss.

Oh how he loves.

Under Water.

The

O

N

L

Y

thing that keeps us under water is pride.

If I dive thinking there is a way to breath without oxygen

I

am

a

fool.

I will flap my arms in distress and cry out to

God

for a little

Grace

and a lifejacket

and then ignore the able and willing Bodies looking on in shared distress.

"Hey!" they cry out.

"Can W

E

help?"

I can only ignore them for so long before

my lungs begin to fill with salty water; reality.

A purple face and tears that squeeze out and float

away

just as every other self provision.

And then I plead with

God

one more time for a little

Grace.

Help.

Something.

And then God sighs and loving,

gently,

taps a Body.

They respond in obedience and complete knowledge

of flesh/pride keeping us underwater.

The Body know the importance of responding when

I, like the Body, refused to recognize stubbornness and pride.

So in absolute desperation

I surrender

and am

overwhelmed by

Grace.