Spider webs and suffering

It's the complexities of suffering that trouble me the most, I think. I walked into a public restroom last night and there was a fairly large beetle hanging upside-down in a tiny web, just above the floor. It was flailing around trying to get free. I was mesmerized immediately, until the bug was completely still and I saw this tiny spider creeping down to the point of its caught leg and then he flailed again, as if he knew his fate. And I thought, "How cruel." Being removed from the situation, I could rescue the giant beetle, but then my only inclination would've been to stomp it a few minutes later. Now on the other hand, letting the beetle remain left a colossal meal for the tiny spider, just trying to make its way in the world. Right? I also considered stomping them both, but then what good is that? I thought about the bug hanging there waiting for its slow death, already creeping down its leg. Was it afraid? Was the spider excited to have baited its prey? Was there suffering there? Can bugs feel? I couldn't stop thinking about it.

So many around me are suffering. I have a close friend, my age, suffering intense physical and emotional pain from cancer, her life has been paved with trauma for years now, attacking her family where it hurts the most. My little brother has been taken off the payroll where he is employed now, voluntarily, as a youth pastor and has now taken a secular job in sales. This week we met them at a prestigious Children Hospital where his brand new baby had to undergo angioplasty on his tiny heart. I have numerous friends that have prayed for years for a baby, seemingly to no avail. Their wombs lie dormant while their arms and homes yearn for a child. I am acquainted with two people, a man and a woman, serving time in prison for whatever their crime or innocence, who every moment are surrounded by "terrible evil" surviving only minute by minute, with years left to serve. Each of these have resigned their soul to the savior for life and yet suffering seems to ride the current of their wake. Who can explain the mind of God? And how can I justify the complaints in my own life when it seems so miniscule in comparison to the real terror and heartache of those in true suffering now?

And yet I do, we all do. We all suffer secret hurts and pain from past lies, jabs, and cuts. It is scarcely ideal for a Christian not to suffer, but can't it be an even spread? Why does my sister suffer so heavily when my I am riding high in the universe? These questions haunt me. I am at a loss for what to say, everything in me is inclined to defend our Father and His allowance of these things as He is truly sovereign, but how can I defend His ways when I know them not? I can only cry when you cry and hurt for your loss, and pray when I don't know what to say. It's the way He rolls, and if we are His, it's the way we roll.

In the ever-present Orthodoxy, that I believe I will never finish, as I accidentally re-read an entire chapter with only vague familiarity because of its complexity of language that confuses my feeble mind, there is an important segment that talks about how one can never fully appreciate good until he endures the bad. And the degree to which the good can be regarded is directly connected to bad that they have known. My marriage has suffered intense, critical pain; we have battled almost to the death for its life and here I stand on the other side of the mountain, completely content and in love every morning that I wake up next to the hero I married. Is that the justice of God; that if you suffer so deeply, you can relish the true abundance that is life in Christ? Or is it just the way of life in a fallen world, that some suffer real bad while others skip through through the days, occassionally skinning their knees, band-aid the booboo and keep on skippin'? These are the thoughts that plague me today.

And then there are the days

when the dichotomy is all around and none on the inside. At about three o'clock in the morning the last night I worked, I had to fight down this overwhelming rage that has been simmering for a couple of months now. It was terrible. Everything that I want to be and sometimes claim to be, and really try to be on good days, was exactly the opposite of what I was, what I am most of the time. I'm becoming less consciencious of being a vocal testimony for Christ and more obviously a hypocrite in the walk. Used to be the other way around. Isn't there ever a middle road? Who is this awful human being that possesses me when I am opposed to the path I am directed to walk? I'll show up, but I won't like it. And if I have to keep showing up for too long, no one around me is going to like it either. It's such a juvenile methodology, but it's the way I roll. God make me like You somehow, Lest I perish!!

There are perks

I have never craved the quiet, small town life; my parents met in the ghettos of New York. However, there are perks to life in the slow lane. And here is one. Kennedy has been begging for roller skates for weeks, so while we were vacationing at the Great Wolf Lodge, we stopped at Target and she spent her allowance that she's been saving for six months, on a new pair of roller blades, which she has not removed except to shower, since she got them. I want to call her Tootie! It's so funny that she skids to a stop when I call her to the kitchen.
So Jas went into Target with what was left of her savings and she didn't have enough money to buy herself some- the only ones in her size were several dollars more and I thought it was an important lesson in saving for her not to get the big prize when she piddled her money away on little stuff. Naturally I felt guilty regardless of the lesson, so this weekend, we headed to the Salvation Army on a whim that they would have some skates. Not only did they have three different options in her size, there was a huge tote overflowing with skates for the rest of us. And not only that, they were marked $3.99-$.99. So the kids take their wallets bulging with coins to the counter and the lady says, "Two dollars," to which Jasmine says, "TWO DOLLARS???" Ladies and gentlemen, they were half off. THE SKATES WERE HALF OFF! It was like a treasure hunt with huge jackpot find at the end. We bought a pair for every kid and two for me for $5.00. Dale worked at the Salvation Army for about six months and said they hadn't changed the Thrift Store prices for years. SO, HAPPY DAY TO ME! Gotta love life in the slow lane.

These are a few of my favorite things:KC

We are all lovers of the city, we've instilled it in our children. The irony is in that Dale and I both grew up in smaller communities. When we first started dating, I had already lost my heart to Chicago and he told me he also loved Chicago, I remember thinking, "Well that's weird," because we had so many other things in common. I think we asked each other if we could live anywhere in the world where we would live or something like that. Well, we've yet to reside in the city as a family, but I showed the kids a lakeview of the skyline and they all said, "Wow..." (that breathless, unbelievably wow) and have not stopped asking when we can go there.

We have been fortunate to live within an hour of a big city from every place we've lived. It's one of my favorite things just to be familiar with the drive to freedom. Our outtings are not generally extravagant. When we lived in Nebraska, we set the tradition on our Friday night family nights to go eat at King Kong, a little hole-in-the-wall Greek food restaurant, to the toy store to perruse the new stuff and usually purchase nothing, and then to Krispy Kreme donuts. Those days were so fun. Our lives were completely bombarded with busyness and, often times, turmoil, but it seemed like as soon as we were loaded in the car on our way out of town, it was just us and life was good. There were a lot of things I loved in Omaha, but King Kong was my number one favorite thing. The thought of a gyro platter... wow... *breathy unbelievable wow* If you've never been it's worth the trip.

All that to say this, we love Kansas City. It's a beautiful city full of culture and entertainment and rich historicity. First stop, the Westin Crown Center. My first choice for our vacation this year was the Westin. When we are there, I feel like I am in the lap of luxury. Needless to say, we are not there often. As a matter of fact, I could count the times we've been on one hand. It's this spectacular hotel that is stacked, who knows how many stories high, and there are glass elevators that eject you to the top in nothing flat The lobby is vast and there is a lot of seating where we love to sit and have conversation. Connected by a corridor is a three story mall full of shopping, food, a movie theatre, live theatre, and children's entertainment. Across the street is a wide open patio complete with fountains in the summer and an ice skating rink in the winter. At Christmas time they set up an enormous tree and and decorative cutouts that you can walk through. It is just a remarkable place to frequent.

Missouri would not appear to have a lot of offer; it's reputation kind of a backwards state is not altogether true. There are perks to living in this not quite northern, not quite southern place. Let me just spell it out for you; FOOD! I have never known southern cooking quite like they do it here. And what's more, I had never tasted soul food until I moved here. Dale heard about a soul food buffet on the radio and insisted that we go there. So we hunted out the Peach Tree Buffet and found ourselves in a glutton's paradise. I can't even think about it without my senses responding. Fried chicken, fried catfish, mac and cheese, greens, cornbread, sweet rolls, black-eyed peas, fried potatoes, bread pudding like you've never tasted, peach cobbler like you've never imagined... the works. It's my favorite place to eat in the universe.

We also found a little old school cafe called Neice's. They had the most delicious sweet potato pie that I've ever tried. It's small, and cheap too, but the food is top quality.

Being that I (kind of still) believe we won't be here, I wanted to share these places. KC seems to be kind of a general stop for travellers from all places so if you are in the area, they are definitely worth visiting!

At the Great Wolf, at the Great Wolf Lodge, at the Great Wolf...

After an unbelievable three years of racing through life and all of it's beckonings, we decided it was time for a much needed vacation, just us. Dale announced that we were going and that we should pack. He was treating us to a day in the life of leisure.The hunt for the perfect place was on while I was at work Thursday night. The plan was for us to leave as soon as I got off work Friday morning, destination: surprise! Daddy's specialty- we all love them!He found an amazing internet deal and booked us a room. This place was incredible. There is shopping, a restaurant, a bakery, an arcade, indoor and outdoor water parks, tons of activities for kids including a bedtime storytime...! It was just incredible. The room was so cool with a gas fireplace and a seperate bunk room for the kids.We were only there Friday and Saturday morning, but we all felt like we'd been gone a week. It was so much fun. The whole area is just a blast. If you're up for a trek, everything is within walking distance. All over Kansas City there are shopping plazas popping up- it's kind of like the Country Club Plaza, but a little more geared for family and the restaurants are more economical, but no less quality.So the one over there is called Legends, with big cutouts of legends like Amelia Earhart. still under construction, but it is going to be so cool when it's done. It's There is a huge fountain with seat all around it. As the sun went down, people just kind of congregated there. It was so relaxing. We weren't able to stay and enjoy it with it being so late and the kids completely exhausted, but it was worth mentioning. This whole place was so great. If you're looking for a vacationing spot but don't want to go too far, I felt like we were far from home, but it was within two hours. SO fun. Thank you, my sweet prince, for treating us to such a fantastic family memory!

dichotomy

I stood in the trash and laundry foyer at 6:43 this morning and found myself standing hard in the midst of a precious dicotomy. In my left hand I held a garbage bag full of used depends and globs of ham salad sandwiches that people spit on the floor and I picked up; in my right hand, another bag heaped with dirty clothes and bedding. I stood in that dingy basement hallway- not uncommon to that of a scary movie and all of it's delicacies- affronted by every horrible stench encompassed in the necessities of my job. The air is thick and musty before I enter with my bundles, my addition to it is overwhelming.

It's a minor detail of the job, it takes only a few minutes a couple of times a night. I run back, dump the stuff, and it's done for the next four hours. However, I hate being back there especially in the night. Being such a small portion of my time, it remains one of the greatest grudges therein.

Upon entrance this morning, and somehow for the first time in three years, I caught a glimpse of the landscape outside my world. It was breathtaking and managed to arrest my senses despite the place my feet stood. Missouri is beautiful country. Where we live, from any point in town, you can generally see outside to the rolling hills and hordes of thick green trees and wild flowers. It's mesmerizing. I looked out the window past the parking lot and there was a thick fog rolling over the hills and I was instantaneously transported to the summers we spent vacationing on campgrounds in the mountains of Colorado. All the feelings came rushing in and reminded me of my early discoveries of true beauty in this extraordinary canvas we live on. I snapped back and proceeded to dumped the linens and the trash and headed back up the hall where I smiled and said, "Good morning," to the oncoming shift, who all looked at me with disdain and said nothing.

I walked out to my car just minutes after all of this transpired and took a deep breath and felt totally alive. I am the dichotomy. My life is the dichotomy. I am the living, breathing, testimony of the resurrection of Christ. My life in a fallen world is the separation of that which is wrong and that which is right. It's me. I walk the path to Eden everyday. It's called sanctification; a process of returning to that which is untainted and good. Christ in me, the hope of glory, amidst the crass wickedness of this Sodom and Gomorrah. Run, Christian; the days are short.

lessons

Last night I was reading about Adoniram Judsam, they call him the father of modern missions, and his wife, Anna. Along their journey to Burma, she sent long letters back home chronicling the adventures they had encountered and the life they were leading. It was presumably because of her letters home that their legacy even exists. She died early, but she left her trail in print.

I can't get it out of my head. Everytime I sit down to write here, I stop and erase because I don't want to be too forward or share too much. I'm gun shy because someone left me a comment that this should be a private blog- which in haste I deleted- because it embarrassed me. It made me second guess myself and my writing, whether I really should keep my sacred things private or share my guts for the sake of another. But while I was reading a plug for GK Chesterton's autobiography, I discovered that there were hundreds of books, articles, and stories that he had written in his lifetime. I want to read every single one of them because he is a phenomenal writer. I want to know everything about him.

It's because of something I read in Orthodoxy that I have even come to this point. He says that we need to not take ourselves too seriously; that birds fly because they are soft and light, they can fly above everything in their world. Rocks sit still, in the same spot, accomplishing nothing because they are hard and heavy.

We have a breakfast meeting this morning and after I dressed for it, I stood in the mirror twisting and turning and adjusting for about fifteen minutes. I was so concerned about this little roll around my middle right above the waistband of my pants. Seriously... I care that much. No one else cares about it, but I almost changed because someone might notice this imperfection. Listen, for three months I've been working really hard to whittle down the remnants of five pregnancies and have had enormous success. I'm not there yet, but pleased. And still I twist and turn and wiggle. I take myself way too seriously.

In an interview with Jill Scott, the interviewer asked, "Are you nervous about singing and following Erykah Badu?" She laughed a hearty whole belly laugh and said, "Have you ever seen me perform?" The scene cut immediately to her singing her first song and it was-- yeah. It was like that. I don't know that anyone reading this blog even knows either of them, but Erykah Badu is beautiful and eccentric and tiny and has this really specific style about her music. Totally confident. Jill Scott is pretty and not small and smiles a lot- and then you hear her sing and she is- she's in another dimension.

I have hidden behind this wall of insecurity my whole life and while, like my waist, I have worked hard to whittle it away, I am pretty sure I have landblasted it in my head with these recent confirmations of myself.

When I write, similar to when I run, I feel like I'm flying. It's the thing I was born to do. So I'm writing and running with all my might. Who knows how many days I have left. Anna was 37 when she died. God grant me the mercy to share my life for the sake of a soul.

Everyday is a winding road... I get a little bit closer

Most days I have something to write about, but I'm sort of flustery in my head, blast that sleep deprivation. We have had such a torrent of emotion in the past weeks. What can I do but let the tears fall down? I have fought them at times when my body needed them and now I give way if it is even remotely appropriate, and sometimes when it's not. Tears are cleansing.

I read something really beautiful last night that I have to share. The amazing A.W.Tozer writes in "The Pursuit of God" a quote from author Nicholas of Cusa in "The Vision of God".

Life eternal, says Nicholas, is "nought other than that blessed regard wherewith Thou never ceasest to behold me, yea, even the secret places of my soul. With Thee, to behold is to give life, 'tis unceasingly to impart sweetest love of Thee, 'tis to inflame me to love of Thee by love's imparting, and to feed me by inflaming, and by feeding to kindle my yearning, and by kindling to make me drink of the dew of gladness, and by drinking to infuse in me a fountain of life, and by infusing to make it increase and endure."

I know, it's almost too much all at once. Read it again. Take it apart piece by piece and make it personal. Read it again; it's so rich. Squeeze the juice out of these precious words. I love it. It arrested my soul, it ran down like a balm... that life eternal is the place where God never ceases to behold me... I love Him so much, and to be able to express the reciprocation of God's love in my life is beyond what I am capable of writing, so to find this trinket thrilled my soul.

All that thrills my soul is Jesus, He is more than life to me; And the fairest of ten thousand, in my precious Lord I see...

Happy Birthday to me!

Woke up this morning and I wrote down this song, just can't remember who to send it to...
My mom asked me on my birthday, "How's it feel?" and I said, "Feels the same." But I gotta tell you, it feels a little weird all the sudden; overnight 40 doesn't seem that old.
Last night I was walking a little lady down the hall and told her that I was a spring chicken and didn't realize how fast I was walking... now, to the person I was talking to, a 102-year-old woman, I am. But my mind cha-chnk-ed after I said that, like the gears were grinding; 30 isn't a spring chicken. It's just not. What's more, I really can't remember. It's the worst thing about me. I forget things. I don't know that it's 30, but it might as well be something.

On the brighter side, we are just starting the early chapters of our career in chaplaincy, our family is huge just like I always wanted, and I've moved five times in ten years and on the brink of number six, something else I've always wanted. I'm not 125lbs though, and I've yet to be published, unless you consider this... not quite what I had in mind. But time is the framework, not the boundary. I am certain that the things that matter on my list of things to accomplish in this life will come to life and the things that are pipe dreams from the eighth grade (125) will fade just like that fuzzy hair did.

Graduation

Graduation Day! Yes, here are some pictures of the fun filled weekend. We had tons of family here, my mom and dad came, Dale's aunts, uncles and cousins all came from the St. Louis area, and of course, all our family here in the area made the trek to Liberty for the commencement ceremonies that must have been at least six hours long... but whatever we had to endure to see him walk that line, it was worth it!


Here is Dale with some of his good buddies and fellow graduates.


After the ceremony, Dana hosted the big graduation reception, which consisted of a huge barbeque and the remainder of the afternoon we spent outside in the gorgeous weather eating, playing baseball, and talking. Because the shade was scarce, the men sat in one area and the women sat in the another. The kids were in heaven with both sets of grandparents in town for such a long stretch of time.


This is Dana in the playpen; I think the stress got to all of us, it was time to LET LOOSE!


Here is Lonnie with two brothers and his sister. We were SO glad they made the trip. We all loved getting to spend some time with them.