I’ve been a busy bee working away on wedding edits from New Years, which are now all done (you might get another glimpse of them soon), and haven’t been at the cinema much lately.
Today, I rectified that.
I went to see Up In The Air expecting it to be just a fun, slightly cheesy rom-com. Turns out it’s actually quite a thoughtful look at individualism and relationships. I’d recommend it – really enjoyed it.
I’ve finally got into gear & signed up to use a reading plan on YouVersion.
I’ve been using the YouVersion Bible app on my iPhone for a long time now, but have never really paid much attention to their website or the reading plans. It seems like Christmas & New Year encouraged a lot more people to sign up and start using one of their reading plans – lots of people I know have been talking about it.
I, of course, had to wait several weeks before really looking into it. But I’m here now. I’m using the Old Testament & New Testament plan, which you can check it out by following the link.
Needtobreathe have been rocking my ears off for the last few weeks…
I am chosen, bought out and broken by the light, I have inside
Our love is greater than I could ever give to you, I must confess
If this song is all I have now it would fall way short of youI am more than
I am more than tonight
I am counted, called out by the lightYou heard we were playing our songs tonight and you thought you might stop by
Your eyes opened and cried out to get back
All the time you took to find
If I wouldn’t sing so softly
Would those stars be in your eyesI am more than
I am more than tonight
I am counted, called out and alive
I am more thanI am more than
I am lost without your love
I am lost
I am more than
I am more than
I won’t ever leave you now,
No I won’t[More Than – Needtobreathe]
Yesterday I received a lovely little email from Vicky Beeching with a pre-release of her new EP, which I’ve been listening to a lot today. In my opinion, it’s a slight change of direction that really suits her. Very guitar driven as usual, but more electric. The EP is out on Feb 9th.
[Always nice to see Daley’s work as album covers too.]
“To live in the past and future is easy. To live in the present is like threading a needle.”
[Walker Percy]
11:15. Coffee in hand, I find a seat in the auditorium and watch friends mill in across the room.
“Turn your eyes upon Jesus…”
The refrain fills the auditorium. My friend is on stage, leading us in worship. I’d forgotten how amazing her voice is. It’s beautiful. The music is low, peaceful; we sing the words again and again and I find my thumping spirit slow and still.
Our songs wind their way through waiting & drawing close, on mountaintops and in valleys. Words of hope, words of encouragement.
“This is my prayer in the desert
When all that’s within me feels dry
This is my prayer in my hunger and need
My God is a God who provides”
As we share communion, I meditate on what it means to break my body and pour my life out on behalf of the people around me. I feel weak. I wonder why God would choose to use us in his plan to redeem and restore the world.
My friend is back on stage, singing a love song. I’ve got tears in my eyes. She is lost in awe; surrendered to what the Father is doing. There is a tenderness in her voice, and I can’t help but think of all that the Father has brought her through. All the pain & suffering in her life, and here she stands on stage singing,
“When all of a sudden, I am unaware of these afflictions eclipsed by glory
and I realize just how beautiful You are and how great your affections are for me…”
Emotion overcomes me. I desire to sing those words with the same tenderness she does, yet so often I feel far from it. I speak harshly to those around me; I act rashly. I desire mercy yet speak judgement. I am a bundle of paradoxes.
I’m thankful that there is grace; that I don’t have to live with regret…
If grace is an ocean, we’re all sinking
So heaven meets earth like a sloppy wet kiss and my heart turns
violently inside of my chest
I don’t have time to maintain these regrets when I think about the wayHe loves us,
Oh, how He loves us
Oh, how He loves us
Oh, how He loves
And so I turn my eyes upon Jesus, thankful for my friend’s example. What are you thankful for today?
These two crazy kids finally got married yesterday!
This song reminds me of them…
I made the arduous trek up the street (all 3 minutes of that l-o-n-g drive) to visit my grandparents this evening. We’ve always lived near my grandparent’s, and I was very close to them while growing up. Granda was always out on the farm with dad, even when he shouldn’t have been. I still have vivid memories of watching him tip the tractor over one year, and crawl out with a broken arm – all while already in his 70’s!
Grandma often looked after us during the summer holidays and after school – treating us to all the things grandparents do. Animal bars and Creamola Foam and jelly straight from the packet. Things you’re parent’s are far too sensible to ever indulge you with.
We slowly grew apart as I got older, and since moving to Glasgow I obviously see them a lot less now. It get’s harder each time to talk with them, and I find myself shying away from it, rather than sitting with them and finding mutually acceptable conversation topics. Tonights ditties on dog euthanasia, Haiti, and marriage among others covered a vast array of interesting opinions.
As I’ve been on this journey of discovering and exploring all the ways story shapes us, I’ve been contemplating what that looks like in families. What it might look like in my family.
My grandparents have their stories. Stories I know nothing of.
Ten minutes after I arrived (unannounced, I might add), my grandparents had (planned) visitors arrive. It was fascinating to watch how the conversations unfolded. Two elderly couples sitting around a fire, with me acting almost as a fly on the wall. I didn’t know most of the people or events they were talking about, but they had an understanding with each other that showed they did.
Sweltering from the heat of the blazing fire, and I noticed two things in particular.
One: Almost without exception, every conversation was framed around a person they knew, a specific relationship. This person’s granddaughter now works here; this mans father passed away; this woman’s dog disturbed the sheep. Perhaps as we age we will gain a greater sense of community, or perhaps it’s growing up in a rural community where everybody knows everyone and everything. Sometimes good, sometimes frustrating.
Two: The stories didn’t resolve. There wasn’t always a clear ending, or even a comma, in many of their anecdotes. Again, I wonder if this is something that we become more comfortable with over time, or is it a memory loss issue?!
Either way, those two observations are leading me to desire a greater ability to sit & learn from my elders. Remember, we’ll need people with grey hair and white hair and no hair at all.
I want to get better at learning to sit in the silence with them, waiting for the right words, or simply embracing the quiet with them.
This series had been recommended to me what feels like a gazillion times by numerous friends, but I’ve only just managed to get my hands on a copy to watch. I finished the series off today, and… I loved it as much as everyone thought I would. Amazing.
A glance at the phone told us we’d been sitting here for almost 4 hours. Time flew past, and it was only because the barista dragged the milk bar out to block off our section that I even thought to check the time.
Something happened in that time that opened up my heart again. There I was, hanging out with a friend I didn’t even know that well, and I was talking about things people who’ve known me for years don’t even know about. It felt safe, and I knew I could trust her. It was unhurried.
There’s something in me that wonders if we are losing ourselves in todays pace of life. Maybe I wonder if I’m losing myself sometimes. I mean, when was the last time you found yourself so caught up in the present moment that you totally lost track of time? And were happy about it? When I look back on how my life looked when I was 17/18, it was crazy. I was so busy. Even now, I see I still have a long way to go with finding the right balance for my own sanity. For me it seems to work best in seasons – seasons of intensity and busyness, and seasons of rest and reflection. But it’s undeniable that my heart opens up more when I’m given time to stop, to reflect, to rest. Maybe it’s why I love those words Pico Iyer once wrote, that “ultimately, movement is only as valuable as your commitment to stillness, and vice versa.”
In the quiet this week, I’ve needed people. I’ve needed someone to be a living breathing screaming invitation to believe better things.
We don’t like needing people, do we?
Our independent, self-sufficient selves come out and fight it. I knew I needed my friend this week, and yet every time I’d send her a text or lie on a sofa watching DVDs with her, my head was fighting it. Telling me I was imposing. Telling me I’m too much.
I think that has to be one of the Enemy’s greatest achievements: convincing us that we shouldn’t lean on others. That we have to face our demons alone.
And yet it is still a struggle to admit that I need people. One of my favourite theologians sang that “we get to carry each other”. Get to. Are privileged to. It always seems easier when you’re on the other side, when you get to carry your friends. It’s much harder when it’s your turn to be carried.
“A good editor draws out what is not said in order to give life to what was aborted before it saw the light of day. We need friends who will name what is unnamed in our story, so that the truth is told. A good editor also helps to ensure that we don’t edit out the truth. And a good editor helps us consider the implications of what our story tells us about ourselves.”
[Dan Allender]
That four hour coffee trip turned into many more conversations, in person and via text message. My friend put words on the turmoil in my heart this week. Spoke words I fear, but needed to hear (and still need to). Don Miller says that conflict is the only thing that ever really moves a story along. Our job is to just hold on, and wait for the master storyteller to reveal the rest…
I know you’ve been going through some things
The pain you hold inside’s written on your face
I know you’ve got tired of the rain
Well, baby, so am I, but I know things can change….
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