Grazing

Today, I want to be a sheep.

I am all about goals. Thanks to my parents, I've grown to love lists and goals and having a "next" dream for my life. But sometimes all my dreaming gets in the way of living, and more importantly it gets in the way of listening. There are so many voices in my life, some amazing and uplifting and others debilitating and deceptive. More often than not the world's voice is shouting one thing in my ear while the wise words of loved ones are in the other, and then my own desires and fears are shouting at me from inside my head. Sadly I often believe whoever is loudest and ignore the one voice that I really want to hear--the Lord's. I am in the midst of an exciting season of growth and change in my life. I feel like God is preparing me for a new venture or at least moving me forward in a few ares that have been rather stagnant for awhile. And while I'm pumped for the adventure, I also know myself all too well. Starting out on a journey is fun and exhilarating, but not too far down the line fear, confusion, and obstinacy sets in. I drag my feet, I get confused about where I'm supposed to be, I start to wonder if I ever should have set out at all. But you know what? I don't need to worry. I have seen and lived and experienced God's provision, grace, and unfailing love. I know that he will lead me, and all I need to do is let him. So today I am a sheep and he is the Shepard. I love control, but I've also seen what a mess I make when I have it, so today I am content to be a simple happy sheep.

Psalm 23
The Lord is my Shepard, I shall not be in want
He makes me lie down in green pastures
He leads me beside quiet waters
He restores my soul
He guides me in paths of righteousness for his name's sake
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death
I will fear no evil
For you are with me
Your rod and your staff they comfort me
You prepare a table before me
In the presence of my enemies
You anoint my head with oil
My cup overflows
Surely goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life
And I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever

This is Gross

Oh bloggy world, how I have missed you! September went by in a whirlwind--I can't believe I didn't do any posts--but I'm back, and starting things off with a somewhat questionable post. I went on a walk a few weeks ago, and walked past a little sign that said in all caps: THIS IS GROSS. Obviously, I took notice. The sign was carefully placed (on a wooden pick) in a pile of dog poop. Lovely! Underneath it said--Pick up your poop. The sign made me laugh, gag, and think all at once (some might say I looked like a choking duck...). One a purely logical scale, I think the homeowners had every right to put up their little sign--it IS gross not to pick up after your dogs (honestly, how do they cope with the shame? don't they wonder if the people can see them through the windows??? I mean...(Rachel Zoe reference #1)) It was funny to me, though, that instead of just putting up a pick up after your dogs sign, they chose to leave the mess in their yard, and call attention to it with a sign. Somehow I doubt that the kind of person who would leave it there in the first place would be significantly shamed by the sign into becoming a person of character and considerate nature. Which brings about my deeper thought: Wouldn't it be nice if we could put up little "signs" like that in our lives. Like a big THIS IS GROSS in the middle of a friend's passive aggression or a in the face of some random guy-in-car cat call (seriously, what do they think is going to come of that? Bananas! (RZ #2)). That way, you don't have to pick up other people's messes and you are essentially calling them on their, well, poop! But in the end, as with the errant dog walker, if they are OK with leaving their ish on the sidewalk, is there any point to making a little sign, or should we just suck it up and pick it up? Ahhh, life's little quandaries!

Star Sighting

This weekend I went camping in Big Sur with some dear friends. I was really looking forward to seeing all the stars up there in the clear, non-city-lighted sky. The last time I was up there it was really clear and so majestic. Needless to say, this time the sky was overcast and not a star was in sight. Obviously I still had a great time, but I went to bed a little sad that I had missed out on the rare opportunity to see what I consider to be one of the most magical sights in nature. I'm thankful that my knowledge of exactly what those twinkly little lights are hasn't lessened the impact of just how glorious the night sky is! It makes me think of the conversation that Timon and Pumba have in the Lion King--are they fireflies stuck in the big black thing, or large balls of gas and fire millions of miles away? I find that the answer doesn't really matter to me. Just like staring at the endless ocean stretched in front of me, seeing the star-filled sky inspires me to think of what is beyond, what is out there, and what is possible. It reminds me of the knowledge that God "determines the number of stars, and calls them each by name" (Psalm 147:3) It takes me out of my tiny little world, and reminds me of the vastness of space--which simultaneously delights and terrifies me!

That night, I woke up and couldn't sleep. I was restless and longing for some fresh air, so after about 40 minutes of debating I ventured out of my safe little tent into the middle of the night, despite all the little rustlings I could hear outside and the knowledge that the skunk who had run towards our fire only a few hours earlier was still out there, desperate for vengeance from the evil flashlight wielding humans. On my way back from the bathrooms (don't worry, it still counts as camping!) I happened to look up. I didn't have on my contacts, but I could still see the BILLIONS of stars, shining overhead. It was like a little gift. I stood outside my tent for a few minutes, enjoying the solitude of being alone in the dark, the only witness to the brief moment of a clear middle of the night sky.

The next morning it was completely cloudy again, as if it had never happened. And I couldn't help but think that if I hadn't forced myself out of my safe, cozy tent into the "dangerous" night, I would have missed out on all those stars...

A few days ago my mom sent me this picture while she and my dad were sailing to Catalina. It's a picture of the dinghy that is mounted to the back of the boat. Can you see the teeny tiny little bird sitting on top?

I found this image really poignant. My mom titled the email "hitchhiker"--one tiny bird, in the middle of a vast ocean, finding a brief respite on whatever "island" she could find. Lover of metaphors as always, I couldn't help but feel like this bird is a kindred spirit. All too often I find myself out in the middle of an seemingly endless ocean with no land in sight. I start to despair, feeling the aching in my wings as I try to stay in flight. And then, out of the clouds I see a sailboat. Not what I expected, but a welcome landing place all the same. And honestly, oftentimes what I think to be a random landing place turns out to be better than what I would have planned. Would I rather sit in a tree, or on a 50ft sailboat, riding the waves and watching the dolphins chase the wake? Much like this bird, I am sitting pretty on an amazing ride. Not where I expected to be, or where I seemingly might belong, but I am resting and I am thankful.

Life Lessons from a Purse

My mom bought me an amazing surprise purse present (sounds like a weird my little pony name...) and on the inside it had this chic little paper booklet of information about the brand, the purse, etc. Part of what they wrote is the following, and I loved it because:

1. It is a genius way of saying "hey that expensive purse you just bought? when it starts to look beat up, don't worry, that just means you are even cooler than you were before"--very smart

and

2. You know how much I love a good metaphor--I think it is self explanatory how my new little purse reflects my life. Enjoy!

"The foil, originally glossy, becomes increasingly opaque with wear and time, providing the object with an appearance which is beautiful and unique. It may be said that leathers treated in this way offer low resistance to scuffs, scratches and repeated rubbing, losing their shine especially on the corners and parts subjected to wear. However these characteristics should be considered as the assets, rather than the defects of craft products. Appreciating the product in this light and experiencing its natural evolution makes for a product which is unique, authentic and personal."

Oh Babs, you teach me about life even when you aren't trying to...

There is a fine line

There is a fine line between

"Absence makes the heart grow fonder"

and

"Out of sight, out of mind"

and I think that difference is reciprocation of affection...

This week's musings...

This week I have been feeling extremely grateful for my 26.5 years. I'm in that really comfortable, exciting place in life where I am still young and have so much to hope for and dream about, but I've also passed by some years of awkwardness and insecurity that I don't miss at all! I think the mid-twenties bring a new feeling of peace and comfort in your own skin that early twenties in all it's glorious uncertainty and arrogance just can't compete with. Sure, I'm not just out of college, but I look better, feel better, and react more sanely to things at 26 than I did at 22. Ironically I haven't really answered any of those big life questions I was asking myself when I graduated college, but I've lived A LOT of life and learned even more about relationships and myself than I did in the self-indulgent years of college (not self-indulgent in a bad way, college is a great time to focus on figuring out who you are and what you are about). I think our current culture puts SO much emphasis on getting it together right when you leave college--what is your career, where are you going to live for the next 10 years, how much money will you have--and I know very few people who are still on the same path they were on at graduation day. Just like people tend to change their major a couple times in college as they settle in and the voice of their high school guidance counselor fades into the distance, so do the first few years of college bring a lot of changes and surprises to what you thought adult life was going to be about. I for one do not miss being 22 or 23, and I think that these next few years might just end up being the best I've had yet. Thank you Lord for growth, perspective, and the mercy of change!