traveling rays & bouncing mercies

I wrote this entry this past weekend, so it’s being posted a bit late. Enjoy!
________

“I'm holding my heart out but clutching it too
Feeling this short of a love that we once knew
I'm calling this home when it's not even close
Playing the role with nerves left exposed”
- From Reasons Why by Nickel Creek (yes, Nickel Creek again!)

Last week was hard. If I’m honest, this past week was hard too.

So many good things have been happening. I’ve met folks around the neighborhood with similar hearts, and it’s neat to finally make connections. To have my soul fed by people whose life goals parallel my own. I hope that friendships continue to form … into whatever shape that is sweet and life-giving. And I hope that I develop a community in which to rest my soul.

My summer stint is nearly over. One more week actually. Four more days. 40 more hours.

I’m ready for it to end.

Though I’ve met some beautiful people, most of whom I hope for friendships to continue, my spirit is anxious for a new beginning. Trans-Mountain down. Mt. Everest to climb.

Back to why the past two weeks have been a bit difficult: I just haven’t been feeling like myself. Small reminders here and there have sustained me. Meeting people from Sojourners (not related to the title of this blog or the tattoo on my foot (hi Daddy!) – just a cool group of folks with a heart for justice). Meeting folks from the Servant Leadership School (a place where Henri Nouwen once stayed). And folks from Potter’s House (a progressive coffee shop/venue/church, etc.).

I’ve also had small reminders of who I am from consistently beautiful friends. Dear friends have spent tremendous amounts of cell phone minutes and gchat messages reminding me of who I am. They’ve provided me with wise words and encouraging book recommendations. They’ve devotedly returned S.O.S. phone messages and have put up with bellyaching on the other end. Even Abigail has endured a number of phone calls right before sweet Elly swept into this world (I had to get my Abigail-time in before little Elly took her away!). And, of course, my beautiful sister has hilariously persuaded me out of hormonal hysteria.

All that said … I suppose these kids aren’t really small reminders … rather HUGE mirrors within which to view my intricately textured past and present. Thank God for them! (And for the technology simulating their close proximity.)

But, I’m not sure where this subtly pervasive feeling of not completely being “me” has begun. I’m sure it’s all a matter of becoming familiarized with unfamiliar sidewalks and street corners and metro stops and faces and voices and personalities. Transition takes a while. As does the growth within and through the process.

I’m looking forward to returning to Texas and New Mexico for a few days after a Boston-detour. To plug into a community of family and friends who love me in spite of all they know of me. I’m ready for my Mama to hold me in her arms, make me laugh like a hyena, and let me whine to her as I have been doing successfully for the past 20-some-odd years. I’m ready to see my brother and his latest tattoo and have him remind me that I’m his little sis so he can pray for me as much as he wants, no matter how much I plead for him not to. I’m ready to see Mary Beth’s new house, have her remind me of where I came from, the good and the bad, and reminisce over childhood delinquency and escapades while we drink smoothies and watch Freaks and Geeks.

I’m ready for Austin-town. To drink some tea with matt graham, a beloved friend, so we can catch up on life … our failings and adventures. He’ll probably let me cry (yeah, literally cry) and he won’t judge me too bad. He’ll just give me a weird look of, “Holy shit, she’s crying. What do I do?!” And I’m ready for him to knock some sense into my puny brain and heart and spirit with his poetic frankness and his empathetic mercy. He’s good at that, he is.

I’m ready for B/CS. To randomly show up at Chris and Bill’s steps and beg them to take me in so I can overstay my welcome after a home-cooked meal. Because their home makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside like a comfy couch will sloppy, goose-feathered pillows to sink into and soothe my soul. And because I love their company. I miss Chris a lot. I miss random Blue Baker runs for soup in a bread bowl. And her random phone calls simultaneously filled with angst and joy and intellect. All three at once. And I’m ready to meet Lenny (her long-awaited labor-doodle!).

And I’m ready to hug and kiss my sweet and beautiful Gramma. Man, that woman is beautiful! I wish you could meet her. She’d lure you in with her frijoles con chorizo and never let you go after that! The two of us are taking a road-trip a la New Mexico. It should be a grand adventure, just the two of us. An abuelita and her nieta and the open road!

I transgress.

Anywho, that’s about it for now. Good days. Bad days. In-between days.

Days where God bounces beautiful rays around as reminders of eternal purposes … and I actually take notice.

Days where God bounces beautiful rays around as reminders of eternal purposes … and I don’t take notice at all.

To close, I’ll leave you with a funny yet poignant quote from Anne Lamott’s Traveling Mercies: Some Thoughts on Faith. May you notice bouncing rays today. And may they fill you with blessings of peace and solace and reminders you who you are.

“It’s funny: I always imagined when I was a kid that adults had some kind of inner toolbox, full of shiny tools: the saw of discernment, the hammer of wisdom, the sandpaper of patience. But then when I grew up I found that life handed you these rusty bent old tools – friendships, prayer, conscience, honesty – and said, Do the best you can with these, they will have to do. And mostly, against all odds, they’re enough.”
- Traveling Mercies, Anne Lamott, page 103

Peace.