Lots and lots of love!

I meant to write about this when it happened, alas, it is a glory of the past, nevertheless, one to be shared. Last Saturday my best friend Charlene and I waltz over to University Hall in our little dresses (only mildly chilled by the unusually temperate February weather.) We see some scrambling commotion as we reach the doors, the first magically opens, and the second is opened magically - by a handsome gentleman (alias Ricardo) with a bowtie, are eyes are also riveted by the blond, bow-tied "waiter" to our left(alias Harold. We are seated in our places (reserved by exquisite name reservations) given menus, and can't help but notice the "1967 vintage" cover on a bottle of (what we are assuming was) sparkling grape juice and the cornucopia-style arrangement of apples, oranges, and bananas (a white carnation, edges tinged with lavender poking out). So, our socks were knocked off. Our orders are taken, and the most delicious pasta, salad, and sandwiches are brought out. The next, and equally wonderful, to arrive at our table were Trevor Tracey and Jimmy Haslam - dressed quite sharply, out of breath, and with huge grins on their faces. "Sorry we're late -- we got stuck in traffic." Us girls get the giggles, because no matter how different a bow tie makes someone look we'd recognize the faces of our loving and mildly mischievous friends anywhere!

Charlene and I both agreed we'd never felt so wooed (not woe-ed, but woooooo-ed). I wish every girl would have the chance to feel so absolutely loved, but the sad thing is, many of them don't. Even on a Christian campus I see girls in relationships they'd be better off free of - ones that they must learn to compromise their values, standards, and hope for a brighter future. They long for guys who can carry on those thought-provoking conversations, have fun and be honest with each other, they long for a guy who isn't ashamed of them and is romantic - without wanting to use them for something. There aren't very many guys like that out there - or people in general... But both Charlene and I have been blessed to find that (rather, given it by God). I've never felt like they were being kind just to get something out of us - it was clear to see that the love we felt was a love that comes from God and is for His greater glory.

What is seen has restored our hope in that which is unseen.

Possessed?

"I was a dismal mess, along with every other soul who is chained to the things of this life. When we lose the things we're all torn to pieces; then we realize we were miserable even while we had them." St. Augustine (The Confessions, book four)

I've been reading The Confessions for a while now (thankful that it's the type of book one can set down and come back to) it is both shameful and encouraging to read how similar I am to Augustine in my shortcomings. (I am nothing near to the "Saint" others claim he is.)

"Chained to the things of this world" that makes me think of a spiritual formation class I took - we talked about how one of the church "fathers and mothers" practiced simplicity as a spiritual discipline. Well, what's so spiritual about simplicity? I got an image, inadequately drawn on the back of some old test, of how each earthly thing traps us in this kingdom. Maybe that's why it's harder for the rich to get into the Kingdom of God than a camel through the eye of a needle - the rich have little threads (or are they chains) attached to each thing they have. You just can't drag all those things into the kingdom of God.

Possess the things of the old life and the world of sin and that is the kingdom which possesses you.

Thirsty Thursdays

The things that matter

white tights to cover unshaven legs
ones that will not likely be razed
red, silken shorts to cover up
the female's demonized body
rubber and plastic - one's trash
represent freedom: my treasure
wheels, and away I go
to the places I'll live someday...
melted snow puddles shimmering
delighted to muddle the ice
a rocky road is no deterrent
spring's first gentle current:
a breeze - balmy and beautiful
(as the unseen can always be)
kissing my hands, though days ago
it ripped and ravaged
rolling of clinging blouse -
is this allowed?
the same wind grazes my stomach
and tickles my fancies
of flying free

a leather glove three fingers clenching
nothing
the index pointing at the sogging swamp
honks of geese clatter cumulus clouds
clashing and colliding with falcon screech:
these are the things I love
three puppies, quivering with energy
the old and relaxed restless loose
wet tongues speak to ungloved fingers
the snatch of spring soars also
through the laden air
America's black and white leopards
feasting on grain (through metallic bars)
that will soon feast on their flesh

Another weekend to remember

Friday and Saturday February 11th and 12th: two more of the best days of my life.