Learning to Be Fully Present

Something about coffee out on the patio
always helps me focus and be present

Monday was a hectic day. First of all, my foot was throbbing from an injury from vacation (not the kind of souvenir I wanted). Then there were a few stressful moments with coworkers. On top of it all, the missional event my women’s small group had planned for that night seemed to be unraveling before my eyes.

Every couple of months, my Monday night women's group serves together by heading to a local residential ministry for homeless women. We make dinner and play games with the women and children. It’s always a bit chaotic but really fun, and the women really appreciate it.

But Monday I was really wondering if we’d pull it off. I wasn’t sure if we’d have enough food. And then someone unexpectedly had to back out. Another person in our group hadn’t responded to the group messages, so I wasn’t sure if she’d be there. I didn’t want the event to be a bust.

New Hair

Long hair when I actually styled it :)

Almost two weeks ago, I cut about five inches off my hair.

Five inches.

I know that may not seem dramatic, but it certainly feels dramatic. Especially when I wash my hair and realize there’s so much missing.

The truth is, I was just tired of the length. How it blew in the breeze and got stuck in my lip gloss, got caught in the car door, and took forever to dry.

I did like braiding it. And when I did dry and straighten it, it looked pretty great. It felt young and sexy, to be honest. And I felt I’d accomplished a feat of some sort because it was the longest my hair had ever been.

Messy Monday Tears and Laughter

Monday nights are great because I have a women’s group at my house. We were all strangers when we started meeting in September. We’ve added a few since then, and a few have moved on to other groups. But we’ve grown together. One night we’re discussing a broken relationship, and there are tears in our eyes. Another night we’re laughing hysterically at Minute to Win It games. Another, we’re having an in-depth conversation on baptism after reading John 3.

The thing that makes it so refreshing is that we’re all living authentically, sharing our good and bad sides. They get to see my messy house, dog toys strewn about. They get to see my scattered brain at the end of a crazy Monday at work. They also see my tears. And my struggles. And my heart for God’s Word. And how much I love to laugh. And it seems like that’s what matters.

Vacation and Rest

Lounging on the beach in Key West

Aaaaaah . . . vacation. :)

This year my husband and I decided to take an entire week off from everything and explore Key West. It’s been a while since we took such a long vacation. In fact, the last time we took an entire week and flew somewhere was our honeymoon nearly six years ago. So, it was long overdue.

Now I’m content to lay on the beach all day every day for a week’s vacation, but Jim . . . not so much. First of all, he doesn’t like sand. He doesn’t like to feel dirty, and the salt water can have that effect when it dries on your skin in the sun, leaving microscopic granules of salt everywhere. He doesn’t like how the sand seems to follow you off the beach—in your shoes, on your clothes, in your hair, and the strange bit you can’t get off your ankle.

But the worst part of a beach vacation for him is simply lying on the beach, doing nothing.

Magic Under Paper Lanterns

A taste of our dinner party

This past weekend we hosted an outdoor dinner party, a garden party if you will. It was a beautiful night of feasting on tangy hoisin pork, crunchy Asian slaw, fresh Israeli salad, still-warm bread, and more. Our guests showed up in festive summer clothes, happy to be in airy dresses rather than thick sweaters after a seemingly unending winter. We sipped wine from the other side of the world and danced under paper lanterns to a playlist made just for the occasion. It was all so beautiful.

A few times during the evening I found my eyes tearing up, my throat tightening in utter thankfulness in the midst of a perfect night with amazing friends. We laughed and joked and sang and swatted mosquitoes. We smiled appreciatively, knowing the hard week so many of us had faced. It was truly joyous, and I could feel the fleeting nature of it all, even as we sat enjoying spoonfuls of avocado mousse.

As we all took to instagramming the evening, I knew others felt it too. This was a rare, beautiful event, and we all wanted to drink it in as deeply as we could, to capture it somehow in pictures.

When We Forget Who We Are

A meaningful passage from my Lent devotional
by N.T. Wright

Sometimes, when we’re hurt and tired and fearful and fed up, we forget who we are. We forget our identity and who God created us to be, who he calls us to be. In the midst of our humanness, we forget we are God’s children.

In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus calls his followers to claim their rightful identity—the identity God chose for us when he created us. He calls us to be people who are different from the societies in which we live, different than the fearful, cut-throat cultures we know. He calls us to be loving, peaceful, gentle, forgiving, humble, merciful. But he doesn’t just say to do the right things, to act the right way. Instead, he tells his followers, he tells us, about identity—who we are as his followers.

We’re salt and light. We’re not from here; we’re from heaven. We are valuable to God. We are God’s children.

It’s in light of this identity that Jesus lays out the way we’re to live—a lifestyle that reflects who we are.

Fair-Trade, Fair-Wage, Upcycled . . . and Taking Risks

Our small group throwing a
birthday party for our new friend, Allan

There was a fascinating article posted yesterday by This Is Our City called, “You Can’t Buy Your Way to Social Justice.” It’s an article written to my generation of American Christians who are focused on saving the world by buying fair-trade coffee, fair-wage clothing, and upcycled accessories. The author, Rachel Pieh Jones, not only speaks to my generation—she speaks directly to me.

I am conscious with my shopping. I care about buying organic cotton to protect the farmers in developing countries. I avoid certain stores and brands because of their mistreatment of workers. I prefer fair-trade coffee and go out of my way to purchase it. And I do it in the name of Christ.

I do it to love my neighbors far away—even in a small way. Because I believe that in a free market country, in a world where money speaks louder than anything else, the choices I make with my money matter.

But that said, Jones makes some excellent points, namely that these actions alone don’t count as living a life of social justice.