Restaurant Wallpaper, Sidewalk Friend

 To the couple hunched over minestrone and penne, leaning close in the corner booth, the crowd of the restaurant is wallpaper. background. a setting and a picture frame for the enjoyment of the table and the togetherness.

 But to the man who, alone, eats the caesar salad and sandwich in the open air of the restaurant patio, the crowd of the sidewalk is a lost and found. a train station platform. a card catalog where he searches the passing faces for some glint of recognition that they both are people, people together. He looks at the hurried men and fussy women and distracted children with a hungry wish: to be acknowledged, to be made vulnerable, to be close, to share a meal together.

 No, no one is sitting here. Please, sit down. You have to try the lemonade here; it's a specialty. And let me buy you a glass. Now tell me, what's your name?

Blessed in Your Emptiness

Maybe you've had a hard week. 

Your spirit feels worn out and overspent. 

(Blessed are the poor in spirit.)

Perhaps behind that Happy Sabbath smile is a broken heart. 

(Blessed are those who mourn.)

Maybe this week you've been humbled by a mistake at work, 

(Blessed are the meek.)

or you find yourself spiritually empty. 

(Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness.)

Maybe you've been wronged by someone this week,

 (Blessed are the merciful.)

or tempted above what you thought you could bear. 

(Blessed are the pure in heart.)

Perhaps your home life is filled with conflict, 

(Blessed are the peacemakers.)

and maybe even your religious faith is under attack. 

(Blessed are those who are persecuted.)

*

Maybe you've been blessed this week: blessed in your emptiness to receive of God's fullness, blessed in your pain to receive God's comfort, blessed in your need to receive God's provision, blessed in your hurt to receive God's healing. 

Whatever the "blessings" you've received, the words of David are fitting:

"I love you, O Lord, my strength."

(Psalm 18:1) He becomes our strength when we are weak, so 

thank You, God, for my weaknesses. 

thank You for not telling me yet how I'm going to pay my rent this month.

thank You for the pain of living apart from my husband. 

thank You for my engine leaking oil.

thank You for the uncertainty in my future. 

thank You for the evenings of loneliness.

thank You for giving me these opportunities to need you. 

I love you, O Lord, my strength. 

*(Jesus spoke these blessings in Matthew 5:3-12.)

My Thirtieth, Intentional Year

This week I turned 29.

...  (I'll pause while you sing me Happy Birthday.)  ...

The 366 days that I lived as a 28-year-old were kinda rough. Not

horrible

, not close to

tragic

, just kind of

sad. and angsty. 

It involved a lot of sitting and wishing, not very much doing.

If I honestly evaluate the year that passed, it was kind of a waste. Some things were learned, experienced, enjoyed, accomplished-- but so much more

could have been

.

But

birthdays come around every year to remind us that we're getting older all the time, and all the time we have time to start anew.

I have completed 29 years, and now I begin my thirtieth: 365 days of the rest of my life. So I am considering the question: What do I want this year---this life!---to be?

What would my life look like if I dedicated this next year to a focus on physical fitness?

What if rocking an Ironman triathlon was my goal? What if calories and carbs and lean body mass were the foci of each day? My schedule, my diet, my routine, my finances---all would be servants of my goal of ultimate physical fitness.

What would my life look like if I dedicated this next year solely to academic accomplishment?

What if getting published in a prestigious journal was my goal? What if acing all my classes and amazing my professors and colleagues was my primary focus? Books, books, books. All library all the time. My sleep schedule, my social life, my Amazon purchases---all subservient to this goal of impressive academic achievement.

What would my life look like if I dedicated this next year to my savings account?

What if putting a down payment on a big house was my big goal? Interest rates, coupons, and penny pinching would be my daily obsessions. Everything in my life---from the thread count of my sheets to the number of times I used the same paper towel---would be affected by my single-minded goal to save up as much money as possible.

BUT. 

But

what would my life look like if I resolutely dedicated this next year to Christ?

What if being formed in His likeness was my driving aspiration? What if bringing Him pleasure and dwelling in His company were my measurements of success? My schedule and activities, my diet and my finances, my words and my relationships---all intentioned for His glory. I would seek for ways to be useful to Him. I would saturate myself with His word. I would earnestly learn from Him in the school of prayer.

And I would know that this year---this life!---was not a waste.

And

I will know

that this year---this life!---was not a waste, but awake! My thirtieth, intentional year.

"Teach us to number our days, 

that we may gain a heart of wisdom."

[psalm90.12]

me thinking about the church. part 4.

During my time in Seminary, I felt ever more keenly the great weaknesses of the church: our apathy and worldliness, our troubles and tensions, our administrative and theological shortcomings, and blah blah blah. It can sometimes be difficult for me to believe that this church---this group of failing disciples---could turn the world upside down.

One morning I asked my professor, "With the apparent fall of denominationalism, what do you foresee as the future of our denomination?"

His reply: "This church started as a movement and it will end as a movement."

I never could figure out how that made me feel.

generic church. wah wah.

if you'd care to read >>  

part 1.

part 2.

part 3.