Once again, husband and I are entering a season of transition. It seems to be a regular thing for us, so I wonder whether or not I can even call it “again” – or if I should just call it “still.” We have been with friends here in Seattle, but now that time is drawing to a close, and we are caught in a little bit of limbo. It’s about timing right now. It’s time for us to leave, but then there are others we’re praying about being in community with, but the timing isn’t quite right. There’s also a chance we will wind up in a new place all on our own, but we aren’t sure what the timing is for that either. We are hoping and praying that in this next season, we’ll be led into the right place for our family in this season, in this time – for us and for the little light of our lives that is our daughter. But it’s never just that simple, is it?Read More
I have dreams about packing.
Suitcases, boxes, again and again and again.
I take things out, I repack them. I make things fit better. I simplify, I clean, I pack, I sort.
Over and over and over again. And I’ve been having these dreams for the past two years. For one of those years, I was settled in a place that I thought would be home for years. I never thought I’d have to leave. And then things began to change. We began to get a sense that God was calling us away from the ‘home’ that we knew. And now, we’ve been on the road since November.
We’ve been practicing Peregrinatio, or holy wandering, to a certain extent. But mainly, we’ve been going through a process of having everything stripped away from us so that we come even closer to the promises that are being whispered so quietly in our wilderness. We are having to leave things behind in order to press even deeper into the mysteries that are being prepared for us.Read More
When I was just out of high school, this play was one of my favorites. It’s dark and dreary and a horrific tale of life and family in the modern age. There’s addiction and suffering and insanity.
All the things I thought I understood – I was convinced that I was living them, after all.
I had friends who smoked! And DRANK! And some who even did unmentionable things in unmentionable places with unmentionable people. I was such a pretentious 18 year old. I can laugh at myself now, recognizing that I was even worse than the guys on Dawson’s Creek who seemed to have everything sorted, yet their lives kept going so horribly, horribly awry. And then something even more amazing happened.
Joss Whedon’s Buffy the Vampire Slayer began. And I had a whole new world of dark and dreary and horrific and pretentiousness – and this one written infinitely better. At so many points in time, it seemed as if finally someone understood.
Life wasn’t always sunshine and daffodils and roses and happy joy joy. And it also wasn’t all darkness and depression and insanity. There was this strange symbiosis of life and death and darkness and light.
We’ve been driving across the country. We started in California, stopped in Phoenix and Carlsbad, and arrived in O Fallon, MO. It’s been an incredibly journey. We’ve had heaps to time to spend in reflection and dreaming about the future – the kind of people we want to be, the dreams we want to pursue, the community we want to create and help to thrive. And we’ve met lovely people along the way.
We’ve entered a season of “Night.”Read More
It’s 4:26am in Los Angeles.
I’ve been “home” just about nine hours.
I can’t sleep, but that’s pretty normal for flying back in this direction.
I haven’t posted recently because the last two weeks have been 100% devoted to packing, shipping, and moving our lives back to the United States from Dublin. And those are just the practicalities.
I got an email.
Hey, I have a friend who needs a place to stay in Dublin. You got anything?
From this particular friend, barring death and dismemberment, the answer is almost always ‘yes.’
So we made plans. We had already scheduled something with some other good friends for the same evening, so it actually worked out quite well. We gave her the keys to the house, she drove us to our friend’s, and we haven’t ‘seen’ her since. She left us soymilk and various other products.
When I look back to this story, I realize how strange it sounds. After all, we let her into our house, sight unseen, and then actually learn that she is only passing friendly with our friend. But this is just how our friend works. He believes – and we do as well – that when the church is what it is supposed to be… The Church Works.
So the lovely guest arrıves a bit late, but to be fair, getting lost in Dublin is a given. I do it on a regular enough basis. First of all, most streets are not labeled, so you can’t follow maps perfectly – and map directions from websites are worthless. Directions from a local are more helpful…if they know the brightest possible landmark near the turns. Otherwise, the directions become a litany of missed pubs and bizarre petrol stations. So the directions that I tried to give were designed to identify landmarks, especially those (like pubs) that would not be easily recognized by a non-local. Unfortunately, she got trapped in the same mistake that I dıd… taking a slight turn instead of a full turn or a full turn instead of a slight turn. It’s really quite a normal thing, but since the roads here are most often paved cowpaths, it’s never easy to get turned back the right way round. It’s always a necessity to retrace your steps.
So, she arrıves and we deliver the keys, and she offers to drive us to our friends’ house, which is AWESOME because public transport there would have been the DART to the city and then a bus for 90 minutes to their neıghborhood – before our junker of joy. And…
we got lost.
First, I got us off on the wrong exit, then we wound up very confused and lost up Ticknock Hill. Eventually we found our way, she dropped us off, and off she went. When we arrıved home from church the next day, our house was clean and tidy, the key was in the mailbox, and all was well.
And it became a great lesson to trust friends and trust instincts. After all, we only had our friend’s word that this person was reliable, and for many people, that would not have been enough. Yet it becomes a simpler matter when you make the conscious decision to value people over property, to trust instead of fear.