bsg @ emp|sfm

Who's going to see the Battlestar Galactica exhibit at the EMP|SFM? ME. That's who. You're invited if you want to come along. It will be frakking awesome.

Battlestar Galactica: The Exhibition at EMP|SFM 10.23.2010 from EMP|SFM on Vimeo.

fabulous friday video goodness—weird

Weird but good.

thankful on a thursday—struggling

On the last Wednesday of the month my church has a prayer meeting. We gather together and pray individually, in small groups, and corporately. We confess. We praise. We cry out. We intercede.

Last night, before a time of individual prayer and confession, one of the pastors challenged us with this: If you are in the midst of a certain sin, you are not struggling with that sin. You have already given yourself over to that sin. It in only when you turn away from a sin and are tempted to return to it that the struggle occurs. He went on to quote Hebrews saying, "In your struggle against sin, you have not yet resisted to the point of shedding blood."

None of us are perfect. I am not perfect. Sin will always tempt me. This isn't about being convicted to "live like a Navy SEAL for Jesus". This is simply about conviction. This is about the discipline of a Father who loves His children so much that, where we have given in to sin, He has persevered, even to the point of bloodshed in our place. His strength, his ability to struggle, is made perfect in my weakness, in my inability to struggle without Him calling me, guiding me back Home. For that I am eternally thankful.

1. A long run, off the pavement, with a running partner, and incredible views.
2. A weekend of quiet with nothing to do but cook, bake, and knit.
3. A last minute ticket to see The Avett Brothers in Portland.
4. Late night brainstorming sessions over microbrews.
5. For friendships, new and old.
6. His strength is made perfect in my weakness.
7. Free laundry.
8. The way He reminds me that He is always with me.
9. A long drive all to myself.
10. Digging into a new book I can hardly stand to put down.

a weekend away

This weekend I am going away. I will leave work on Friday, stopping by Extracto for an iced late and A Close Knit for a new set of knitting needles (square and metal and divine), before heading out along Marine Drive. Upon arriving in Glenwood, Washington I will lug my laundry, my rolling pin, my knitting, a bag of groceries and several books inside.

There are a few things on my to do list for the weekend, and I am looking forward to each of them. A weekend away with a to do list? Yeah, but check out this list:

• Laundry [that doesn't cost $1.25 per load]
• Make shaved asparagus pizza
• Knit
• Run 12 miles [with a running partner and without being chased by dogs...or cougars]
• Bake chocolate pudding pie
• Watch a movie...or two

thankful on a thursday—post script

One more bit of thankfulness to add to yesterday's list:

11. Nish lent me her shoes for most of the walk back from Lady Gaga last night because my usually comfy and oh so cute black heels were killing me. She shuffled along in my too-big-for-her shoes and I wore her TOMS. SO thankful!

thankful on a thursday—all over the place

Today I feel all over the place. Almost every item on my to do list is only partially completed [except for planning my outfit for tonight, that I finished around midnight last night]. As soon as I start something I am distracted by some other thing, partially done, sitting on my desk asking me, "but what about me? Aren't you going to finish me?"

Perhaps it's because there really is too much to do. Maybe it's the Stumptown latte coursing through my veins. More likely it's trying to do everything all at once.

In the midst of the excitement of seeing a dear friend, attending what is sure to be an EPIC Lady Gaga concert, getting back into the groove of normal life after a crazy July followed by two weeks of vacation, and processing what it means to trust, believe, and accept God's unconditional love, I find myself—my feelings, thoughts, and life—all over the place.

That's what I love about Thankful on a Thursday. I get to pause and focus. Even if the things I'm thankful for are totally random and disconnected, this exercise in intentional gratitude brings them all together.

1. Seeing Lady Gaga in concert.
2. Five days with my high schoolers in Southern Oregon, hiking, rafting, and swimming.
3. All the conversations and things that took place between the hiking, rafting, and swimming.
4. Friends to run with on my long runs for the next TWO weekends.
5. Adventures and conversations with Katie on Sauvie Island.
6. Belonging to a church that lives out honesty, transparency, and grace even when it is hard.
7. A few quiet moments of gratitude and grace at His table.
8. Lounging around on familiar furniture, beds, and beaches with family.
9. Last night's voicemail from Erica Sue.
10. His love is present and true no matter what.

they toil not

It's tattooed on my arm, so why doesn't it live in my heart?

I have food to eat.

I have clothes to wear.

I have friends and family and so much love.

Why doesn't it feel like enough? Why don't those things and those people feel like blessings? Why won't this wanting, this needing, this loneliness be quenched?

What is left undone? What is misunderstood?

Grace.

LOVE.

What does it look like to rest? To trust that it doesn't matter that I'm not enough, that I don't have it all figured out?

How do I JUST LIVE in this place? No striving to make it better / easier / prettier. Just live. Just be. How do I stop trying when it's all I can think of to do?

missing the chaos

After two weeks away from home, it was nothing short of amazing to shower in my own shower (sans flip flops), climb into my own bed, and fall fast asleep. It was incredible to wake up without an alarm and know I could just lay in my big, comfy bed without worrying about who I was supposed to wake up when or wonder if I'd be able to grab five minutes to myself to just be.

In the midst of enjoying my self-imposed solitude I noticed the quiet, the lack of laughter, the absence of birds and river water. No one was challenging anyone else to escape from a camp chair after being tied up. No one was attempting to do any sort of awesome jump off a rock into the river. No one wanted to know if they had time to go to the bathroom / shower / river / frisbee golf course before our next activity. I miss that.

I miss the chaos. I miss the laughter. I miss the silly contests. I miss driving a Suburban full of kids who are singing, dancing and air guitarring their hearts out as I drive us through the windy back roads and secluded state highways of southern Oregon. I miss seeing the stars from the window of my tent as I fall asleep, separated from the ground by a quartern inch of thermarest, wrapped up in my caterpillar green sleeping bag. I miss the joy of the water finally boiling and passing out oatmeal and french press to sleepy students and leaders. I miss the brief moments where I see this chaos for what it really is—love and grace lived out in the midst of the messy lives we live.

These kids are the best. Those five days in southern Oregon will go down as some of my favorite. While my introverted self is still a little tired, I cannot wait for Wednesday and the chance to relive even just a bit of that holy chaos that's become so dear to my heart.

fabulous friday video goodness—how He loves us

In the midst of anger, struggling with resentment and a self-imposed, stubbornly narrow-minded understanding of blessing, I know He loves me.