Tuesday, November 30, 2010

Sobriety.

This was a product of my life as a college kid. I wrote it before marriage and the settling that tends to bring. Back when I lived in the dorms of a secular school, surrounded by sweet people who wanted to live life fully and not miss a moment, just as I did. We attempted to achieve that goal in different ways, but I longed for them to know my heart regardless of the differences of our choices and convictions.

It's not that I'm "religious".

Oh, I hope I am not religious!

The dreadful things that go along with that word!

Routine.

Judgement.

Mindless comfort.

Works mentality.

Guilt.

No.

I don't want any of that.

I want to know God's heart.

I want to learn to love like Him.

Relationship is a beautiful word when one remembers what it means.

He is the King who would wash my feet?

Really? I mean, He is God...

And I?

I am a blunderer.

I blunder into everything!

Into danger.

Into safety.

Into trouble.

Into friendships.

Into class.

Into diversion.

Into life.

So there's that.

It's not that I'm religious.

I love Him.

He loves me.

And He has been forever showing me how beautiful life is.

When it's easy and when it's hard.

In the sun and in the rain.

The joyous moments of friendship and laughter...

And the times no one wants to mention

because they hurt so deeply.

And the closer He takes me into His heart, the more I crave to know.

And that is why I would rather sit quietly in the living room,

and doodle in my journal

than drink with you guys.

It's not that I think I'm better than you.

No no no no no.

It's that I adore being sober.

Because I don't know what's going to happen,

but I sure don't want to miss it.

And when I live it, I want to know that I will remember it in the morning.

God never told me to make a decision about whether you are living like you should be or not.

That's not my assignment.

Why do Christians take that on?

I don't want that responsibility.

Its a beautiful thing that it has nothing to do with me.

It frees me up

to attempt my actual assignment.

And that is to love.

Deep and genuine and for real.

I don't claim to have it right.

Or that I find it easy to get a heart for every imperfectly beautiful human that crosses my path.

But I am learning.

And I can tell you right now that it wasn't hard to be endeared to you.

You and your accents.

You and your curiosity.

You with your nose scrinched up making faces at Aquene

as she sleeps snuggled in her bandana,

tail curled around her for warmth.

And you appreciate it.

That's what I see when I see you.

So don't mind me.

I'm content.

I'm sober.

Friday, November 19, 2010

The Queen of Third Grade

This is a story that was shared with me in a conversation on a message board that I enjoy immensely. I know the author who lived this story and who wrote it down for us as Cherish. I am so grateful to her for guest blogging here by allowing me to post her words. Cherish can be contacted at: stories.from.my.heart.@gmail.com

When I was a child, I was a bit of a misfit. In those days I was too skinny, a know-it-all, I had coke bottle glasses and wore all the wrong clothes. I was not what you would call one of the "in crowd" and yes, there's an "in crowd" even in the Third Grade. One thing I did have was a wonderful relationship with Jesus. That's how I recognized Him in other people.
One afternoon, a little girl in my class did something amazing. We were all about 8 years old. She was the prettiest girl in the class, maybe even the school. She was very well off, and very popular. (She had multiple birthday party invitations every week!). One day, she asked the teacher if she could rearrange the tables and change the seating around. For some reason (popularity, maybe?) the teacher let her.

Everyone snickered as she started gathering up the "misfits" and putting them at one table, having other people trade seats with them. I was already at that table, and she didn't move me. Then, the most astounding thing of all...She took the last chair at the table. Even as young as I was, I knew that I'd just witnessed some sort of holy, defiant act. We would have crowned her queen, but we never got the chance.

The first thing she did was tell each one of us why she wanted to sit at a table with us. She told a little boy (named James) that everyone picked on that he was the nicest boy in the school because he never did the same mean things back that other people did to him. She told me that she always wanted a smart friend who was as kind as I was. She told one very chaotic little girl that she was so creative and picked beautiful, fun things to wear. (This little girl started the trend of mismatched everything! )

The funny thing is, I don't remember her name. Just her honey blond hair and her sweet smile, and the most incredible act of goodness that I'd seen up to that point in my life. I decided then and there that if I was ever "popular" or "one of the good kids" I would do exactly what she did. She had God's heart. Later on, I realized I didn't have to be in the "in crowd" to love people, to include them, and to tell them exactly how wonderful they are.