Colorado

This past weekend Ricky and I made a quick dash up to Colorado. Neither of us have ever been to our northern neighbor state, and we had a long weekend and grandparents who wanted to spend time with the littles (God bless them, seriously.) Denver is definitely on the "places we would love to live" list, and lately we're keeping our eyes open for Possibilities.

It was lovely, as expected. Colorado is beautiful in a similar way to New Mexico, actually. Lots of high desert in the southern part. And then, more mountains and snow, but the same big blue sky and wide views. I re-discovered the joy of night driving on the way up (thank you, This American Life, the Lumineers, Mumford & Sons, and Ray LeMontagne, for that) and we made it to Pueblo late, got some sleep, and then drove up to Denver the next morning. I have to say, I think Denver is the friendliest place I've ever been. I think NM is pretty friendly, but we felt downright rude in comparison. Everyone seems to have time to talk. We had fun exploring downtown Denver....went to the Denver Art Museum (they had a Georgia O'Keefe exhibit that was interesting, and the whole museum was super kid-friendly), checked out the Colorado State Capitol, and went to see this play. We both enjoyed it--it dealt with a lot of universal themes, like grief and being stuck, and the slow process of moving on, and I was, as always, so impressed with what theater actors can do with a small space and very few props, and how we can find so much of ourselves in someone else's story.

On Sunday morning we ate crepes at a cute restaurant next to the City Park, then drove north to Boulder (the happiest town in the U.S., apparently.) We wandered around the university, walked downtown (very crunchy-outdoorsy, very happy-looking). Everyone was out and about--reading books, drinking coffee, watching their kids play on kid-sized climbing rocks (Nicky would be in heaven.) It was colorful and interesting. I didn't see a single overweight person, and there's kind of a dress code.  North Face jacket or vest, khakis or long flowing skirt, Minnetonka moccasins (want), hand-knit beanie, cute dog, kids in adorably mismatched clothes, bicycle, vegan snacks in your backpack, etc. I guess if you have to have a dress code, that's not a bad one. We had just a little time to drive up into the mountains, then headed back to Denver.

(Not pregnant, no sir. Just standing like it.)

Sunday night was really special. We went to a service at House for all Sinners and Saints, an inclusive Lutheran church that I've been interested in ever since I saw a video of their pastor here. She was actually out of town so we didn't get to meet her, but the service was beautiful and nourishing, and I'm so glad we went.

It was a group of 50 or so, gathered in a parish hall, with chairs set up in an oval formation. I loved the simplicity and humility of the liturgy, the acapella singing, the depth of the songs, and even though I have differing theological views on the Eucharist, I loved that part too (I doubt I'll ever find a church that I completely agree with, and I'm working on being okay with that.) I loved the quiet, the reverence, the poetry, the opportunity for stillness and reflection. I could have easily been a shaky mess the entire time, because I was so hopeful, and because it was so, so good, but I mostly kept it together. Church has been complicated for a long time; this was just peace. Just. peace. What a gift.

Afterward, we walked around in the cold, got some Thai food, and processed the experience out loud. I'm still processing inwardly.

We drove back in a straight shot on Monday, and picked up the littles late that night. They all looked bigger. I want to go back, and take them along next time. Maybe this summer.

the littles, right now

Nicky will spend a few minutes describing to you the "features" of whatever weaponized Lego spaceship he just built, then run off to watch Tinker Bell on Netflix. He's well-rounded like that ;). He's a bit more emotional these days. I read something once about a six year-old developing more of an internal life, and I think that's happening with him. This is the part of parenting where kids start to need their own tools, it seems, more than before. I can't climb inside his head and fix things, but I can try to help him express his feelings and adjust his expectations (bedtime often comes as a harsh blow, when he's trying to squeeze 17,000 things into one evening.) He can recite his times tables like a pro, and play his chords and scales on the piano more easily and in time with the metronome, thanks to lots of practice with Papa. He comes home from school talking about girlfriends and break-ups, and generally has no idea what he's saying, but it's leading to some Conversations. We're trying to balance maintaining his sweet innocence with not throwing him to the wolves at school. He loves pizza and a movie night, usually Friday, and I love how he reminds us of it and takes joy in picking out a movie. He's still so little, but getting so big. 

Silas says "beedy" for really. As in: beedy hot, beedy cold, beedy good. He's putting lots of phrases together, like can I see this? and singing his abc's and counting to ten; it's the magical memorization stage.   He's all about Youtube toddler songs, playing swords with Nicky, reading books before his nap, and saying "I say" before letting us know just what he wants. He's mastered the art of being a cute scoundrel (how do toddlers know these things?). When we pray before dinner, he covers his face and whispers something like thank you for this food and then Amen! and looks around smiling. He breaks into song here and there throughout the day. Itsy Bitsy Spider, Twinkle Twinkle and BINGO are favorites. 

Little Miss loves baths these days. She and Silas have that in common; it's a source of entertainment some days. Another development: she's a squealer, especially when she sees Ricky. She's scootching around on the floor a bit more, and looking bigger too. She has two bottom teeth, holds her own bottle, and loves to stand while holding onto things. She also doesn't mess around when she wants something. The girl is loud when she wants to be. She's more of a snuggler lately. She cries to be picked up, not necessarily just because she's hungry or tired or needs something else. I love that she misses us, and how much more connected everything feels these days.

plans for Lent

Observing Lent is something I've wanted to do for several years. Here's what seems right and needful this year:

• letting go of Facebook and Twitter. It's fairly obvious I guess--I need more time in my day and I spend a lot of time mindlessly checking them. I love keeping up with friends and laughing at witty banter, but there's a darker side too. There's a temptation to see the worst in people, and I would really like to resist that. Not sure about long term solutions, but this is a start.  

• Reading just one blog post per day, and taking some time to reflect on it. I read a lot of blogs, and some of them are really quite profound, encouraging, and inspiring. For this season, I want to focus more on letting their messages really sink in, and maybe taking a little time to engage in conversation there, instead of just reading one after another. 

• Reading through the whole Bible. I'm following this plan. (Life may happen, I may not finish. But I will try.) Here's why: the Bible is an old friend, but because of various readings with various lenses, I've been pretty allergic to it in recent years. I've all but thrown it across the room at times. These days, I'm learning to look at everything through the wide and generous lens of Jesus, and oh, how that helps. If something doesn't line up with the character of God as revealed to us in Jesus then I get to question it. I've been tiptoeing into this freedom for years. This Lent, I want to dive into it; to read the entire Bible through the lens of Jesus, for the first time in my life. It's kind of a celebration of this new-found freedom, and rightly so, because it's been a big deal for me. (Maybe I'll have new or different thoughts about this when I'm done; we shall see.)

I was hoping to attend an Ash Wednesday service, but we'll be watching Little Miss' big sister and another sweet girl for the evening, so that will have to happen another year.

Here we go!

while making my bedtime rounds

Weekend Reading

So, I haven't posted any Sunday Reading links lately because I've been doing my darndest to stay off of social media on Sundays (one of my resolutions for 2013).  I do love to share posts that have meant something to me, or made me laugh, or made me cry (or even made me mad) or made me see something new....so how about Weekend Reading instead ;-) Here we go!


I read Come Weary, and then I breathed a huge sigh of relief and cried a few grateful tears. And then I took my weary self to a patch of sunlight and prayed. There's nothing like raw honesty to draw me close to Jesus, to remind me what this is all about.


Daddy Loves You, a post for the One Good Phrase series was a simple but powerful reminder for me. I found myself whispering Mommy loves you to my littles more after reading it, and how those words calm everything down a bit.


I've been pondering the phrase love your neighbor as yourself quite a bit lately, and really liked Kathy Escobar's take on it. We do so often fall into the trap of exceptionalism.


Jamie the VWM makes me laugh, and she does it while making a really good point about the kingdom of God and getting low. And, while we're talking about her, she wrote a brave and blunt post a while back about some weird ideas concerning depression that you run into sometimes in church culture. Also, missionaries who cuss just make me happy.


There's very little that Rachel Held Evans writes that doesn't make me want to shout Amen and wave a white hanky. Her post (and the one she references) on gender roles is no exception. I love the freedom she describes; the mutual servanthood. It took Ricky and I some time and tears to shed pre-conceived expectations and just be ourselves, and our marriage has been so much better for it. Trying to be someone you're not is so depressing, so frustrating. (I may need to write about this at some point. I'd love to spend some time reflecting on what we've learned so far.)


And finally, I hope to have this attitude as I get older. (I turn 30 in a few months, and yes, I'm expecting my 30's to be better than my 20's, to really get comfy in my own skin, to say goodbye to all those constricting things that just don't fit. Yay for getting older and hopefully wiser.)


Happy weekending to you! I have big plans to mostly stay out of the wind, snuggle with my loves, make Valentines, put something involving ginger and curry in the crockpot, go out tonight (we have a babysitter!), make some plans for Lent, and get in some quality reading time. Wishing you a deep peace and joy as you do what you do. And, if any of these posts meant something (positive, negative, whatever) to you, I'd love to hear about it.

Saturday hike

*Little Miss had a playdate with her big sister. One of these days we'll attempt a hike with all three littles.

another way

Be careful when you fight the monsters, lest you become one. -F. Nietzsche

What exactly are we supposed to do with our anger? A good friend of mine once called it the healthiest emotion, which I think it certainly can be. Be angry and do not sin.

Feeling angry on a regular basis and not sinning is fairly exhausting in my own strength. Placing people into categories puts a band-aid on anger; making it easier to dismiss those with whom I disagree. Underneath, though, the wound festers.

Facebook, that great reveal-er of the human heart, helps us right along with this, doesn't it? So many broad proclamations; so many opportunities for subtle jabs. And so it goes: oh, you voted for President Obama? You must believe in abortion on demand and want to see churches stripped of their right to teach what they believe. You're a liberal elite. Obviously, you don't care about what the Bible has to say. Oh, you voted for Governor Romney? You must want all women to be barefoot and pregnant, with no agency of their own, and believe that everyone on Medicaid is lazy. You're a conservative, completely unaware of your own privilege in this society. Obviously, you don't care about the poor. (I've hyperbolized this a bit, but not too much, as you probably well know.)

My own personal Battle of the Categories has been largely internal. I feel compelled (Holy Spirit, is that you?) to let some light in. I want to see people for who they really are: a great many things.

I am thankful for the everyday prophets who call me out of the false dichotomies I have railed against and find myself slipping into. Categories make us feel safe, but they also kill any chance for relationship. In real life, people defy those categories. In real life, we have to find ways to champion justice and mercy. So many people talk about the straight and narrow road in terms of salvation, but these days I think of that phrase in terms of my interactions with other people. It is hard to be kind out in the open and in secret; not to think of anyone as ridiculous. (Because, if you hear their stories, you'll know they're not.)

My husband does something that I love: he wanders the halls at church, and talks to people. He's brave and curious enough to ask the good questions, and talk about the real things. Back when we first met, I used to think man, he makes a lot of eye contact. It's disconcerting to be noticed when you're trying to hide, but don't we all need that? He is a listener, in a world of people who just want to be heard.

Here's a thing: as I've moved from a place of struggling with the nature of God to a place of struggling with evangelical culture, as I've come closer to conclusions about questions I once didn't have answers for, I find it much easier to place people in categories. I find I've become less interested in the stories of people I don't agree with. Yikes. That needs to stop.

Here's another thing: I like having a few more answers these days. I like it that when I hear something that misrepresents who I've found God to be, a voice in my head firmly says no. There is so much more peace in my heart this way. But at the same time, I don't want to ever be comfortable with writing people off.

Something I love about Christianity, in its purest form, is that it offers another way. The only agenda we have to cling to is that of Jesus.

Hearing that Jesus had silenced the Sadducees, the Pharisees got together. One of them, an expert in the law, tested him with this question. "Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law? Jesus replied: "'Love the Lord your God with all your heart and all your soul and with all your mind.' This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: 'Love your neighbor as yourself.' All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments."

Matthew 22:34-40

(Oh, Jesus. I love you. You cut right through all the noise.)

Loving God with all my heart means I stay vulnerable, sensitive, open to the idea that I may be wrong.

Loving God with all my soul means I keep a sacred space for Him to work on me, with me, through me. It means I'm careful about what ideas about Him I let in.

Loving God with all my mind means I get to ponder, deconstruct, find the holes, imagine, and rejoice when He reveals new things to me. It means I get to grow at my own speed.

And loving my neighbor as myself? That means other people get to grow at their own speed. It means they get to protect their treasures from the harsh light, too. It means I should strive to create a safe space for them to be vulnerable. 

There's a beautiful line from one of my favorite poems: I Ask the Impossible by Ana Castillo:

...love me as you always have:
not as admirer or judge, but with
the compassion you save for yourself in your solitude.

Admiration isn't necessary; neither is judgment. There is another way.