Busyness

The simple truth of the matter is that I am a homebody. I love being in my own quiet space, maybe cooking a meal, doing something creative, or just being with my family. When life gets busy, I am known to lament about how many days it has been since the last quiet day (or weekend at home).

The past few Saturdays have been a case in point for me. It started with many hours at church for the 30 Hour Famine. Last weekend we went to a fabulous rummage sale in Oakland. Yesterday we went to see my sister and her family to celebrate a slew of spring birthdays.

On the hour-plus drive to my sister's house, I started to get that anxious feeling that I get when we haven't had our home time. I feel behind on things...a touch disconnected. And then I realized something. The past three weekends were full of things that make my life rich...of the things that give me memories. They were times shared with people I want to mentor and people whom I love. They give me stories to tell. The stories about the laundry getting done (while they give me satisfaction) are just not compelling.

Then I started to think about my faith walk. I think I tend to be a homebody there as well. It is easy to be safe in my practices and sharing. I think though, that what I heard God saying to me as we drove was this: "Our journey will be richer if you are actually doing things." I winced a bit. Nobody likes to get a butt-kick from their Heavenly Father. I could protest that I am doing things--but I suspect the voice was suggesting I take more risks...reach out more, love more, and yes, be willing to leave my house on a weekend or weeknight.

For all I fight against the busyness of life, I am reminded that in the moments of activity blessings come. Often when you least expect them.

This sign greeted me near the beginning of yesterday's ramble through San Francisco. Sent out to taste, observe, listen and explore. I felt lucky to be on such an adventure. Sent out to look for what God might see, how he might feel, and what he might be doing here. We were asked to write a poem, looking back on our experiences of the day. I wrote mine in Dolores Park, surrounded by people, with the warm summer sun beating down on me. It captures a piece of what I saw and experienced...but not the hunger to try to keep seeing my world through the lens of the Father's love.

among those who seek

do they know they are pilgrims?

                surrounded by riotous color

                by images and icons

                demanding we remember...or learn

"doing it against your will," she said,

isn't that kind of the point?

                and yet so much points

                to seeking or own will

                or happiness

the toddler picks up the ball and throws it

following wherever it leads

                our lives much the same

she has stories to tell

                if you are willing to learn

she seeks to help you find peace

                but is still seeking herself

surrounded by those seeking meaning

                clusters of friends

                united by stories and beer

looking for a cause to rally behind

                or a way to feel happy

the toddler so busy at play

                that he runs

                past his father's open arms

reflections on SF mission day, j.weinert, 6-27-12

19 years...

Celebrated 19 years married to my love yesterday. Definitely still happy with him. In looking for a picture of us to post I discovered that this one was the only one I had from this year...and it's not that great. It does however conjure nice memories from an overnight together in March.

i LOVE this place...

We were out to dinner last night at a noodle place, nothing fancy. A family came in and a child's voice exclaimed, "I LOVE this place!" It made me happy. I imagine it made the restaurant workers happy. Who would not love to hear this kind of joy?

It reminded me of going for a car ride in December with my sister's kids. As we pulled onto the freeway, my then four-year-old niece yelled out, "The freeway! I LOVE the freeway."

Kids get joy better than adults do. We seem to spend an awful lot of time complaining, but not much time celebrating or being thankful. I want to be more child-like. Maybe the next time we visit the coffee shop we adore in Fort Bragg I can be bold enough to loudly proclaim my love. The regulars might think I am nuts, or maybe they might quietly smile in the agreement that they too love this place.

How Great

We had a baby blue jay in our back yard. It's parents had pushed it from the nest before it could fly and the bedraggled creature spent several days hiding in our yard before it could fly. It was so helpless. I was helpless to help it. (I read that this was actually part of the learning process and the bird needed this time on the ground in order to learn how to thrive). I was reminded that God knew the whereabouts of this bird and cared for it.

Our worship gathering this weekend focused on the traits of God. We considered his creativity, his mercy, his patience, and many more. Since it ended though, I have been pondering his hugeness. There are so many needs pulling at my heart right now. I think of family members who are sick or in need of jobs. But that is only the tip of the iceberg. I think of all those who have lost loved ones or homes in the multitude of natural disasters this spring. Then I think of the war-torn, the hungry...the list is so HUGE. It is absolutely more than I can wrap my head around. Yes, as I recall these things I pray, but I seem so insignificant to the problems. And yet, my God knows all of these needs. He understands the cries of the hurting. He sees each and every heart.

How does it all fit together? There is so much I can't fix. I know I am called to love, and to serve, and to give. I also know that this amazing God who calls me is big enough to take care of both the bird and all these other things that come to my finite mind. The most incredible part is that it is not too much for him. I keep coming back to the fact that this God is HUGE. It is only my belief that is small...

rough around the edges

I spend a lot of time working with youth. As a high school teacher and volunteer for my church's youth group, as well as as the mother to a couple. I suppose the lesson I relearned the other night should've come as no surprise then. Our youth group had just spent the evening talking about relationships...and how human relationships often seem to fall apart and what causes that. After the lesson ended, one of the girls who I spend time with in a smaller group setting came and sat down near me. This girl is usually loud. The focus needs to be on her. She will interrupt, poke her friends, play with her phone...almost anything other than be present in our discussions. And yet, this same girl sat before me now quietly. When I asked if she wanted to talk she shook her head no. Before I could prod much further, tears started to slide down her cheeks. I moved to where I could put my arms around her and let her cry for a couple of minutes as I realized that she was hurting over her parent's divorce. This divorce happened about 8 years ago...and it is still tearing her apart: her heart, her loyalties, her time, and...I realized, her whole self.

As I held this grieving girl and we talked about the Love that doesn't fail, even when human relationships do, I was reminded about brokenness. Often the loudest people we know, those most difficult to get along with, are the ones going through deeply painful things. I knew this. I had just forgotten. It is easier to go through one's day avoiding the painful people. And yet, being able to reach out to them and make a connection gives a day a whole new meaning. Being willing to reach past the thorns to make a small difference--not an easy thing, but the lesson I relearned the other night.

Silliness

Take one superhero spirit day and one strange and artistic teen and here is the result. Her friend was octopus girl (but squid girl was much cuter!)