A while back I hung out with a zillion people at a friend’s house and I spent a majority of the evening people watching and allowing my mind to wander as I went from conversation to conversation with friends, both new and old.
I love people.
I love watching the timidity of first introductions, the covert second glances fueled by attraction, other people abandoning themselves to bursts of joyous laughter and the look of triumph on someone’s face as their joke is understood and reveled in.
There are always quiet people in corners listening to loud people telling stories, best friends in deep conversations acknowledging their familiarity in a touch on the shoulder or a pat on the back. It’s a jumble when it’s all happening at one time, but when you pay attention to the details it’ll teach you a lot about the people you’re around and it’s better than any reality show in the world.
If we pay attention, it’s like watching scenes from a real-life performance on desire, trust and intimacy being acted out right in front of us. Who has earned it? Who is seeking it? Who is terrified?
Every person desires that intimate connection with another person… even if they don’t know how to ask for it, what to do if they get it, or if it even exists…
We all want that person we can wave at from across the room and go sit by and just let out a deep breath because they KNOW us. Our true selves can be at rest around them.
It takes time to establish that familiarity with another person. Time invested in communication… a desire to know that person, and in turn, to be known by that person as well. After all... to know and be known... that's the definition of intimacy, right?
“Communication leads to community, that is, to understanding, intimacy and mutual valuing.”
-Rollo May
Value the people in your life. Value them to the extent that no encouraging word goes unsaid, no insecurity is left to grow in silence and no one you love is left to wonder if you truly SEE them for who they are.
Let's value one another...
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
the price of our tears
we studied Luke 7 tuesday night at my home church.
the whole night i was so filled with emotion i couldnt talk. its so hard reading the story of Mary, the harlot who visited Jesus and in the middle of a crowd of people who loathed her for her lifestyle, knelt at his feet and covered them with her tears. her vulnerability is inspiring.
it's so important to remember that this story is meant to help us realize that WE were once the harlot running to His feet, washing them with our tears... his kindness, mercy and patience led US to repentance (Romans 2:4).
we don't know the cost of the oil in someone else's alabaster box, but we know what was in OURS... what our past and our sin and those "treasures" we stored up, were...
we know what we accumulated, only to willingly pour it out at Jesus's feet when we realized HE was the only treasure worth keeping.
what sadness he must feel as he watches us -even now- fill our lives with so much pointless gargabe, not focusing on eternity and his Glory. what abundant joy he must feel when we see our sinful state and run to his merciful arms...
it's so beautiful to think of how Mary poured out the oil and spices once used for her trade... once used to allure and seduce... upon his feet.
perhaps she was given them as a gift from a customer or purchased it with money earned in her prostitution... and Jesus isn't revolted. how beautiful. all of her past and all the things that gave her meaning before are why she was compelled by his patient mercy and love to lay herself at his feet and worship him for who he was to her. her saviour. the one who showed her what her worth TRULY was.
he gave her back her beauty in front of those who saw her as filth.
we may not understand the way someone worships God, but that's because it's only for Him. he's the only one that counts... and if we don't understand why that is, we need to go wash his feet with our tears again so we remember what if felt like when he was all we needed.
the whole night i was so filled with emotion i couldnt talk. its so hard reading the story of Mary, the harlot who visited Jesus and in the middle of a crowd of people who loathed her for her lifestyle, knelt at his feet and covered them with her tears. her vulnerability is inspiring.
it's so important to remember that this story is meant to help us realize that WE were once the harlot running to His feet, washing them with our tears... his kindness, mercy and patience led US to repentance (Romans 2:4).
we don't know the cost of the oil in someone else's alabaster box, but we know what was in OURS... what our past and our sin and those "treasures" we stored up, were...
we know what we accumulated, only to willingly pour it out at Jesus's feet when we realized HE was the only treasure worth keeping.
what sadness he must feel as he watches us -even now- fill our lives with so much pointless gargabe, not focusing on eternity and his Glory. what abundant joy he must feel when we see our sinful state and run to his merciful arms...
it's so beautiful to think of how Mary poured out the oil and spices once used for her trade... once used to allure and seduce... upon his feet.
perhaps she was given them as a gift from a customer or purchased it with money earned in her prostitution... and Jesus isn't revolted. how beautiful. all of her past and all the things that gave her meaning before are why she was compelled by his patient mercy and love to lay herself at his feet and worship him for who he was to her. her saviour. the one who showed her what her worth TRULY was.
he gave her back her beauty in front of those who saw her as filth.
we may not understand the way someone worships God, but that's because it's only for Him. he's the only one that counts... and if we don't understand why that is, we need to go wash his feet with our tears again so we remember what if felt like when he was all we needed.
Sunday, August 14, 2011
a mattress flipped me off... into the river
my alarm went off at 7am this morning and i genuinely wanted to wake up. truly, i did. my roommate saprina and our friend mike were running in a 70s themed 5k at 8am and i had every intention of going and watching them compete in their neon 70s outfits... until my alarm clock went off.
then i decided sleep sounded better.
upon deciding to sleep more, i realized i technically committed to going tubing down the truckee river with friends at 12pm so i set my alarm for 11. when it went off again, i decided i didn't want to go tubing. sleep just sounded better than anything else today. after all, i hadnt really PROMISED to go tubing... or had i? my phone buzzed and a friend was asking details about the trip. dangit.
well, i got up and stood in the middle of my room deciding what to do. to go, or not to go... that was the question. how many events today could i get away with NOT going on when people wanted me to?
i decided that if i didn't like how i looked in my bathing suit, i wasn't going. that would be it. i hadn't had my coffee yet, so i wasn't in a good mood and so chances are, i'd hate what i looked like and it would be my excuse and all my friends would have to understand. i'd just pull the "i didn't look good in anything i tried on" card and no one would be able to question me... girls are allowed to pull that card every now and then. ;o)
i changed andi checked myself out in the mirror, and decided i looked good. damn.
okay, plan b: if i didn't have sufficient river gear, i wouldnt be able to go. wouldn't you know, i found all the river gear i needed and after a few more failed excuses, i was headed with everyone to the river. awesome.
of all the mornings for me to get myself together in a half hour, it had to be today... the one day i've wanted to just sleep the day away?! freakin geez. whatever. i made the best of it.
we got to the river and had a few laughs since i'd decided to carry on my tradition of floating the river on an air mattress. it looks comical, but when the river goes from 7ft deep in parts to 8 inches deep (if that) in other shallow parts, riding it on tubes is quite an ab workout. i prefer to relax and float rather than hike my butt up and go straight as a board to avoid getting bruised from rocks on my butt or tailbone. it can be quite brutal.
today, my brother who is 6'7 took his scuba flippers with him because he had the genius idea for he and i to sit on opposite ends of the double inflated camping mattress and power down the river at great speed. with him propelling us through the rapids and shallows with his flippers, we laughed at everyone else exhausting themselves by hiking their butts up out of the water every time they saw a rock ahead.
it was great fun... until i "pulled a hope" and fell off the mattress backwards in some rapids, slamming my head on a rock. the cracking sound your head makes underwater when slamming into a rock is almost worse than the pain.
the next time my friends saw me, i'd flung myself dramatically over my end of the mattress and my brother was propelling us as fast as he could into shallow water where i could get out safely and situate myself before we through any OTHER rapids. it was quite the drama, especially when my contacts started falling out and i had to get them back in while floating down a river! i'm awesome. not accident proned at all.
i fell off the mattress a couple more times throughout the day, but none as bad as the first and thankfully, no more rocks connecting with my skull.
i am now a deep shade of tannish red and quite enjoying the thought of cruising the river again even though it may mean death. knowing me, next time i'll get strangled in some kind of fishing line or something... it would just figure.
much thanks to nathan for keeping me alive and making surfing the truckee on an air mattress a heck of a lot of fun!
then i decided sleep sounded better.
upon deciding to sleep more, i realized i technically committed to going tubing down the truckee river with friends at 12pm so i set my alarm for 11. when it went off again, i decided i didn't want to go tubing. sleep just sounded better than anything else today. after all, i hadnt really PROMISED to go tubing... or had i? my phone buzzed and a friend was asking details about the trip. dangit.
well, i got up and stood in the middle of my room deciding what to do. to go, or not to go... that was the question. how many events today could i get away with NOT going on when people wanted me to?
i decided that if i didn't like how i looked in my bathing suit, i wasn't going. that would be it. i hadn't had my coffee yet, so i wasn't in a good mood and so chances are, i'd hate what i looked like and it would be my excuse and all my friends would have to understand. i'd just pull the "i didn't look good in anything i tried on" card and no one would be able to question me... girls are allowed to pull that card every now and then. ;o)
i changed andi checked myself out in the mirror, and decided i looked good. damn.
okay, plan b: if i didn't have sufficient river gear, i wouldnt be able to go. wouldn't you know, i found all the river gear i needed and after a few more failed excuses, i was headed with everyone to the river. awesome.
of all the mornings for me to get myself together in a half hour, it had to be today... the one day i've wanted to just sleep the day away?! freakin geez. whatever. i made the best of it.
we got to the river and had a few laughs since i'd decided to carry on my tradition of floating the river on an air mattress. it looks comical, but when the river goes from 7ft deep in parts to 8 inches deep (if that) in other shallow parts, riding it on tubes is quite an ab workout. i prefer to relax and float rather than hike my butt up and go straight as a board to avoid getting bruised from rocks on my butt or tailbone. it can be quite brutal.
today, my brother who is 6'7 took his scuba flippers with him because he had the genius idea for he and i to sit on opposite ends of the double inflated camping mattress and power down the river at great speed. with him propelling us through the rapids and shallows with his flippers, we laughed at everyone else exhausting themselves by hiking their butts up out of the water every time they saw a rock ahead.
it was great fun... until i "pulled a hope" and fell off the mattress backwards in some rapids, slamming my head on a rock. the cracking sound your head makes underwater when slamming into a rock is almost worse than the pain.
the next time my friends saw me, i'd flung myself dramatically over my end of the mattress and my brother was propelling us as fast as he could into shallow water where i could get out safely and situate myself before we through any OTHER rapids. it was quite the drama, especially when my contacts started falling out and i had to get them back in while floating down a river! i'm awesome. not accident proned at all.
i fell off the mattress a couple more times throughout the day, but none as bad as the first and thankfully, no more rocks connecting with my skull.
i am now a deep shade of tannish red and quite enjoying the thought of cruising the river again even though it may mean death. knowing me, next time i'll get strangled in some kind of fishing line or something... it would just figure.
much thanks to nathan for keeping me alive and making surfing the truckee on an air mattress a heck of a lot of fun!
Thursday, August 11, 2011
a fight with skinny jeans
By some form of magic that I can only describe as divine intervention, I am currently wearing a pair of skinny jeans.
That's right, they are now fastened to my body and hugging me in a way that –at times- has made me feel downright scandalous today.
It all started with Lindsey Lohan and her freaking leggings… and then the wear-pants-so-tight-you-just-look-naked trend migrated to tiny little hipster girls and emo boys until somehow it freakishly got to us adult women, too.
They’re on… and they’re staying on. Literally. I doubt they'd move an inch.
It was not easy to get into these jeans, though… no, no. It was not.
I’m pretty sure now that I got them on, I’m just going to live in them. Even the thought of having to peel them off is enough to make me work up a sweat.
I’m not a morning person, as you all well know… so when I picked up the skinny jeans this morning in an only half awake state and dozingly pulled them on, imagine my surprise when I stood up and they were still only halfway up my shins.
I not-so-amusedly bent down and pulled again, but the fabric was fastened there like grappling hooks. It’s really a wonder that my feet even fit through the tapered legs of what can only be described as pantyhose, fashioned out of jean material.
There’s really nothing quite as visually comical as imagining what we girls look like as we hook our thumbs through the belt loops of a pair of jeans and jump in the air, all the while, perfectly timing erratic kicks that look like a mid-air combat routine... and all of this, simply to pull a pair of jeans over our hips so they fit right!
Nothing feels better than winning that mid-air judo match when you’re able to button those jeans and zip em up!
I looked at myself in the mirror and approvingly smiled. I grabbed my toothbrush and took a step to head to the bathroom… and almost tripped. I could barely bend my knees.
I set my toothbrush down, grabbed the belt loops again and threw myself into a good five minutes of pulling, stretching, cinching and lunging, to stretch the fabric in all the right places. My aerobic workout produced a very successful end result and I was thrilled.
On my way into work today, I felt like a runway model. Ironically, I had no makeup on because half my morning routine was used on getting into my amazing jeans, but who needs mascara when you’re wearing hott heels and a pair of jeans that you LITERALLY paid to get into with your blood, sweat and tears?
The End.
That's right, they are now fastened to my body and hugging me in a way that –at times- has made me feel downright scandalous today.
It all started with Lindsey Lohan and her freaking leggings… and then the wear-pants-so-tight-you-just-look-naked trend migrated to tiny little hipster girls and emo boys until somehow it freakishly got to us adult women, too.
They’re on… and they’re staying on. Literally. I doubt they'd move an inch.
It was not easy to get into these jeans, though… no, no. It was not.
I’m pretty sure now that I got them on, I’m just going to live in them. Even the thought of having to peel them off is enough to make me work up a sweat.
I’m not a morning person, as you all well know… so when I picked up the skinny jeans this morning in an only half awake state and dozingly pulled them on, imagine my surprise when I stood up and they were still only halfway up my shins.
I not-so-amusedly bent down and pulled again, but the fabric was fastened there like grappling hooks. It’s really a wonder that my feet even fit through the tapered legs of what can only be described as pantyhose, fashioned out of jean material.
There’s really nothing quite as visually comical as imagining what we girls look like as we hook our thumbs through the belt loops of a pair of jeans and jump in the air, all the while, perfectly timing erratic kicks that look like a mid-air combat routine... and all of this, simply to pull a pair of jeans over our hips so they fit right!
Nothing feels better than winning that mid-air judo match when you’re able to button those jeans and zip em up!
I looked at myself in the mirror and approvingly smiled. I grabbed my toothbrush and took a step to head to the bathroom… and almost tripped. I could barely bend my knees.
I set my toothbrush down, grabbed the belt loops again and threw myself into a good five minutes of pulling, stretching, cinching and lunging, to stretch the fabric in all the right places. My aerobic workout produced a very successful end result and I was thrilled.
On my way into work today, I felt like a runway model. Ironically, I had no makeup on because half my morning routine was used on getting into my amazing jeans, but who needs mascara when you’re wearing hott heels and a pair of jeans that you LITERALLY paid to get into with your blood, sweat and tears?
The End.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)